#i wanted to shout out bc it’s was such a good feeling to make something tat made me so happy

[confiaenanaa]

Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.

needed - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?

warnings: cursing, drinking

A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!

-Fuck you! 

-Oh, piss off!

Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 

…

He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.

He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 

That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 

-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 

-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 

-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!

- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!

- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!

-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!

-Fuck you!

-Oh, piss off!

-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 

-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 

-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.

-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!

Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.

But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.

Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 

Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 

She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 

She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 

When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 

She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.

She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 

The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 

She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.

“hello?”

“babyyy??”

“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”

She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 

…

The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 

As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 

Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 

-Wait, look, I gotcha something.

He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.

-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.

Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 

A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 

He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.

Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[sevretalien2]

inspired by @/starbanmk ‘s recent biker au post i picked up my pen and did a crunchy little doodle (rambles in the tags) not that the golden gorilla thing has anything to do with their au but that’s not the point

[candyriku]

finally getting a chance to work on chapter 15 today :-)

[lesbiten]

anyways jennafer newberry was a very cute glinda and lissa deguzman was an absolutely incredible elphaba and i love this musical so much

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[lovelettersfromluna]

Wasted Summers

Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.

an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!

You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.

You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?

“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.

“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.

“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.

She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.

“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.

Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.

She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.

And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…

You couldn’t help but want more.

Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.

“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.

You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.

A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.

Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.

You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.

“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.

But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.

“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.

You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.

“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.

And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.

“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.

Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.

But she doesn’t.

She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.

You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.

You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.

Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.

“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.

“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.

She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.

When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?

That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.

Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.

Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.

Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.

While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.

Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.

You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.

You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.

However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.

You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.

You didn’t even text Ellie.

And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.

So now shes worried.

Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.

And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.

Ellie is a coward.

She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.

That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.

You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.

The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.

And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.

It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.

You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.

Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.

As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.

She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…

To….

To tell you how in love with you she was.

For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.

And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.

In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.

So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.

The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.

Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.

When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.

“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.

Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.

You were sick.

And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.

“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.

“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.

Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.

“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.

She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.

“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.

A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.

You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.

There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.

She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.

“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.

“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.

“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.

She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.

“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.

She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.

Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.

She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.

Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.

She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.

The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.

“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.

Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.

Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.

“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.

Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.

You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.

“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.

Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.

It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.

Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.

Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.

So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.

Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.

Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.

Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.

When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.

It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.

Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.

You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.

Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.

“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.

“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.

“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.

“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.

“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.

She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.

“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.

And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.

You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.

“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.

“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.

A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.

But you don’t.

“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.

“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.

Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.

She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.

You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.

Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.

The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.

And so, she begins to panic.

“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.

Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.

“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.

“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.

“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.

“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.

After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.

“My throat kinda hurts…”

[amazinglyashy]

HI I LOVE ur lads headcanons ‼️ idk if u do angst but im feeling some angsty/hurt/comfort........... can i pls request the lads men's reaction to the reader rejecting their confession bc we think they deserve better...... someone who doesn't have a heart condition (like the mc) or something........

Oh my gosh, thank you so much!! And oh man, I love angst and hurt/comfort, as long as I get to give it a tiny bit of hope/a happy ending! I felt this one though, I've thought about it before with my own MC…….. a few dozen times- Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request! <3

Love and Deepspace Li’s reactions to you rejecting their confession due to feelings of inadequacy

Rafayel -

Rafayel is… surprised, to say the least.

Not only do you not have any memory of him or the things you did together- the things you did to him- but you also are straight up turning him down when he finally realized that he needs to confess to you all over again.

He's pretty upset.

It'll definitely turn into an argument, and you know he's hurt. Damn, you're hurt too, just having to turn him down. He makes you feel something, like you're special. Like you're everything to him. Like you're not…

Broken.

And it'll come out eventually. Maybe not blatantly so, but in small ways, your feelings of inadequacy will start to leak through the cracks that are forming in your resolve as you try to refuse a man who has already been refused his love by fate and prophecy for far too long.

And somehow, that makes it so much worse. Because he can fight fate, he can go against the currents of time and the ever evolving cruelty of human nature. But he can't do anything about the feelings raging inside your own head.

He's sure going to try though.

Angrily but calmly, he will start firing off things he has done for you, just because he's loved you so much, throughout all of your time together and even before. He doesn't know if it'll make it worse, make you feel like he already does too much for whatever it is you see yourself as, but he's going to do it anyway. And slowly, it'll start forming into the things you two do together- the things you've done for him when he needs you.

And you're going to be there a while, because until you start to realize, until he starts to chip away at that dark feeling in the deepest reaches of your mind and heart, he's not going to let up.

Not now, not ever.

Sylus -

He's a bit taken aback, but he's not particularly surprised. He had seen this coming, mentally prepared himself for it, even. He knew after his treatment of you when the two of you had just met again for the first time, that any sort of official relationship between you two would be tricky to get to. Especially putting an actual label on it.

He'll be a lot more surprised when he reads between the lines at your words, and realizes it's not because you're still scared of him, but because you don't think you're good enough for him.

"You can't be serious, sweetie."

He's not going to force you to accept his confession, but regardless of how timid or aggressive you become, whether you escalate it vocally or try to exit the conversation, he's not arguing with you. He pretty much refuses to, as he instead begins to state snarky facts as he crosses his arms, watching your reactions as he does.

"When you patched my wounds a month ago, was I not deserving of your hands caring for me because they were shaky and belonging to you? How about that girl you muttered about that we saw at the café who was mad at her boyfriend to the point of shouting, when he didn't get her the right cake she wanted? Are you saying you're worse than her? Helping me on jobs simply because you want to exist near me is… not good enough for me?"

"Sylus, that's not what I'm saying-"

"Oh don't worry sweetie. I know exactly what it is you're saying. I just know it's a particularly misinformed, self loathing thought for you to be having. Don't you think it's insulting for you to decide who I give my love to? After every calculated decision you have witnessed me make?"

He'll finally soften, reaching out a hand to gently rest on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle back and forth.

"You don't need to be concerning yourself with what I deserve in a partner. You should have faith in my opinions, if not for yourself, but for your confidence in me, sweetie. After that, the rest is up to what you truly want in your heart."

Zayne -

His reaction is definitely the most reserved initially, especially until he realizes why exactly you're turning him down.

He definitely has the passing thought that maybe you're just misunderstanding him again, just like back with the snow seals when the two of you were still kids.

When he realizes that's not the case, and instead, it's your own internalized feelings, he's first a bit relieved, and secondly- pretty perturbed.

"It's interesting to know that's your perspective, given how much you enjoy those fictional stories with ironic pairings. I would think that it would be the most romantic thing for a heart patient to be in a relationship with a cardiac surgeon.

His biting but well-meaning quips aside, he's not quite sure how to break it to you that he used to be in a similar boat, and still is to some capacity. Which is partly why he's a bit upset to understand your perspective.

He's genuinely surprised you haven't processed the timeline of the two of you and your lives. Your accident that caused the state of your heart, his leaving to study medicine and become a specialist in cardiology and a renowned cardiac surgeon- are you not able to see that it's not an inadequacy for him, but his own lack of knowledge when you first started having issues made himself feel inadequate? Why he left without a word for years in the first place?

And not just that- it also applies to other fields too. He has no issues helping you where you need him, because he knows the extent of your capabilities, much like he knows his own. And he will spend forever if he needs to, to show you that loving is not about who does more. It's about doing what your partner needs, no matter how much or how little that is, and loving each other through every hard moment.

And you're about to hear every ounce of his convincing, opinions, and own feelings, until you start to see. Until you finally see.

Xavier -

Unless you tell it to him straight, he's not going to know why you rejected him. He'll be hurt, but he'll accept your rejection graciously and politely, before trying to figure out just how to get you to accept it.

There's an increase in claw machine dates, movie night invitations, and how much he helps you with missions or even just around your apartment. Eventually, you process the weird behavior and you're all but forced to confront him on really truly why you rejected him.

It's Xavier, so you try to play it off as a lighthearted situation or a joke, but you can see his expression darkening, and you're not sure if it's because of him being upset at your words, or realizing just how much time he has sunk into you with how... broken of a person you are.

Turns out, it's the former!

It's hard to not realize such, as he's pulling you into the tightest hug he's probably ever grabbed you into.

For a while, it's just you and him standing there, with him squeezing you tightly and you not knowing what to do with your hands or the lump rising in the back of your throat. He doesn't really know what to say, but he does know he needs to say something.

"I'll definitely make you see that you're more than enough for me."

"Xavier- that's not how this work-"

"I know, and I don't care. I- I need you to know that you're everything to me. You're not inadequate, or broken, or anything you've been telling yourself. You're more than enough. You're more than everything to me. And I'm not going anywhere until you finally understand that."

[felixknow]

Hi! Can you do Hyunjin 39

39. "I moan your name when I masturbate."

gn!reader, not edited, drunk hangout, truth or dare, poorly written bc we're just playing around and having fun ok let's goooooo

“Channie, truth or dare?” Felix asks, breaking the momentary silence in the room. Chan chuckles and puts his phone down, stretching his arms over his head and his legs out in front of him, letting his lithe body form a line as he slides down the couch cushions and onto the floor.

“Mm… dare,” he settles on.

“I dare youuu… toooooo…” Felix drawls, trying to think of something good. “Send a selfie on Bubble and say ‘oops, wrong chat’.”

Chan chuckles while Seungmin scoffs.

“Good one,” Seungmin says.

“The hardest part is going to be finding a selfie to send them,” Chan says, picking his phone back up. A few minutes later, after the messages are sent and the boys have a good laugh at the reactions coming through, Chan puts his phone away again.

“Is it my turn to ask then? Y/nnah, truth or dare?”

You startle and scoot a little closer to the group. You’d been sitting to the side, mostly keeping to yourself since half the boys had gone out to pick up dinner, including the two who tied you to the rest of the group in the first place.

“Um, truth.”

“Are you nervous to be around us without Hannie and Minho here?” He smirks and you scrunch up your face like a kid who’s being teased, because that’s exactly what it feels like.

“And so what if I do?” you playfully retort. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself. Also, it’s a little odd being left with my friends’ friends before we in this room have become friends.”

“You don’t think we’re friends?” Felix asks, giving you a dramatic set of puppy dog eyes. “I think we’re friends, Y/nnie.”

“I think we are too, Lix. At least I hope so!”

The game continues on for a couple more rounds until Han, Minho, and Hyunjin come back with dinner and alcohol.

“Let’s make this a party!” Han cheers, and Minho rolls his eyes.

“You’ll be drunk in half an hour, jagiya. Eat your dinner first at least.”

Han bashfully responds with a “yes, hyung,” never quite the fan of being called a lightweight.

Han’s not the only lightweight in the room, though.

“Oh my god, we should play truth or dare again,” you say excitedly, an hour after dinner and several shots in. “Hannie, we played truth or dare earlier! We should do it again! Truth or dare?”

“Dare!!” he responds excitedly, matching your bubbly and drunk-dazed excitement.

“I dare you to get Minho to kiss you.” You giggle, while Han whines.

“Noo, that’s the worst because you know he will! He’s all over me at home, I can’t get a single night’s sleep without him trying to give me a bedtime kiss first!”

“Someone has to tell you goodnight and sweet dreams, otherwise you’ll have nightmares,” Minho says simply. Then he smirks as Han turns toward him. “Now come here and give me a big, juicy kiss.”

“No!” Han exclaims, struggling and squirming, trying to push back against his roommate’s chest as the stronger of the two slowly reels him in. The group gets a good laugh in before Minho finally wins out and plants a kiss to the corner of Han’s mouth.

“Ew,” Han says over-exaggeratedly, wiping his mouth, and Minho rolls his smiling eyes.

“Your turn now, Hannie. You ask someone.”

“Okay. Changbinnie. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Put on the underwear I got you for your birthday,” Minho quips.

“Hey!” Changbin shouts, ever so easily worked up. “It’s Han’s turn to dare someone, not you! Stop being a creep!”

Minho laughs hard, throwing his head back and cackling until he has to turn and lean on Han for support.

“Ignore him,” Han says. “Changbinnie, I dare you to take two shots back to back.”

“Jesus,” Changbin scoffs, widening his eyes. “Damn. Okay. Someone’s annoyed he isn’t the only drunk one,” he says, watching as Jeongin pours him a drink. One shot goes down. Then a second one, less smoothly.

“This shit is disgusting. Alright, husband of mine. Truth or dare?”

“Hm?” Hyunjin sits up, rejoining the group. He’d been laying down on the ground, somewhere between food-coma and introvert’s recharge. “Truth.”

“Are you crushing on anyone right now?” Changbin asks, smirking. Hyunjin scowls at him, and the two make a show of switching expressions, trying to make the other laugh. Changbin winks cheekily, acting cute, and Hyunjin huffs and pretends to gag. Changbin makes kissy faces and holds up a heart to his cheek, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes and bluntly says “no.”

“That’s so not true,” Chan chuckles.

“No to Changbin. Yes to the question.”

“Damn,” Changbin sighs. “My husband is cheating on me.”

“Never, baby. You know who I go home to at the end of the night.” Hyunjin winks at him, finally play-flirting back, making Changbin and several others laugh.

“Okay, okay. Y/nnah. Truth or dare?”

“Hmmm,” you hum, long and drawn out. “Truth.”

“Didn’t you do truth earlier?” Seungmin asks.

“Yes, soooo?”

“Sooo.” Hyunjin draws out the syllable, thinking of something to ask. “Oh! What were you doing when you butt dialed me that one time?”

“Huh?”

“You butt-dialed me! Didn’t I ask you about that? I think it’s because you were doing something but you were saying my name, or something like it. I just heard, like, shuffling and your voice a little and I was like, ‘hello?’ and you didn’t answer so I hung up.”

Your face is burning in embarrassment by the time he’s finished his spiel. 

“Um… Dare…”

“Noo!” several of the boys chant and insist. “You can’t change your mind now!” Jeongin says.

“Answer the question!” Minho insists.

“Yeah, I’m curious now,” Han agrees.

“I really-- I can’t--”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin says, shrugging. “I told Changbin about it and he said you could have been having sex. I thought maybe you were looking for your lost phone or something… until you moaned.”

“I WHAT?!”

The group laughs, Han and Felix both turning toward you and hugging you.

“Ohh, Y/N. Don’t listen to him, he’s just messing with you!” Felix insists.

“I never said that!” Cahngbin insists. “He’s joking, Y/N, I swear. Please don’t be embarrassed. Guys-- stop! Don’t laugh!”

“It’s okay, it’s fine, I’m totally fine, I’m totally not about to die of embarrassment or anything.”

“I really was kidding,” Hyunjin says, bowing all the way to the floor in front of you. “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me. There was no moan. I just thought it would be funny!”

“Please get up,” you laugh, patting Hyunjin’s shoulder. “It’s fine, really. I could tell it was a joke,” you lie. “You’re a dumbass, though, by the way.”

The group bursts out in laughter once again, and the night moves on, the incident almost forgotten, until…

The night is winding down, the group is cleaning up the mess they’d made, putting Chan and Jeongin’s furniture back where it belongs, cleaning dishes, taking out the trash.

You pass Hyunjin in the hallway as you’re leaving the bathroom, and he stops you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“It was what I thought it was, right? When you called me.”

“What, the phone…? Yeah, I was, um… looking for my phone,” you say nervously, unable to meet his eyes.

“No, not that… you were… moaning.” His gaze locks onto yours and your heart feels like it’s going to drop out of your ass.

“Well…maybe…”

“So you think of me? When you play with yourself?” He asks so quietly you almost don't hear him. You can only nod to confirm.

A slow smirky smile grows on his face.

“Call me next time. You don’t have to play by yourself, if you don’t want to.”

[norrizzandpia]

Showing You My Love (LN4)

Summary: McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

Warnings: language, a condom, angst, a sort of break up, but happy ending

Note: not a request IM SORRY this one isn’t as slay as i can do but i just rlly wanted to get something out bc I haven’t posted in a while and miss yall 🫶🏻 this one’s storyline is quite complicated because Lando is in a PR relationship whilst also having an actual gf sooo have fun? ALSO SMUT FLUFF AND ANGST FOR BOTH LANDO AND OSCAR WILL BE COMING SOON I HAVE LESS THAN A WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT SO JUST BEAR WITH ME 🙏🏻

“Lan?” Y/n shouts as she walks through the door of his apartment, a large smile on her face as she prepares to ask him a question that could set anew relationship.

She hears a soft sigh before he responds, “In here.”

She travels to the living room to find her boyfriend sitting on the couch, his head buried in his phone.

She sits hesitantly next to him, newfound nerves erupting in her stomach.

“Can I talk to you?” She whispers, his blatant disregard for her presence told her this might not be a good time to breach this particular subject.

He nods nonetheless, waving his hand slightly to signal her continuation, “Sure, what’s up?”

She takes a deep breath, the fact that his eyes aren’t on hers makes her want to back out. She perseveres, although, hands clasped in her lap as she asks, “Do you think we could go public? With our relationship, I mean.”

At this, he freezes. Lando’s fingers stop flying over his phone’s keyboard and he slowly turns to stare at her.

The words try to fall from his lips, but they stop right at the cusp. Lando watches as she retreats into herself, a reality check that cuts deep in her heart as he looks to be rejecting her proposition.

“I…” He hesitates, “I can’t.”

Her eyebrows contort, “Why?”

His phone raises to her face, his hand shoving it in her eyeline to see the text conversation he had been having with Zak before she had sat down. Her gaze floats over the blue bubbles for a moment before she understands and her heart sinks.

“I don’t understand.” She does, though. She just can’t bring herself to accept it.

Lando forces her to, “They want me in a relationship, but a PR stunt. A girl named Olivia, they said.”

Her nails rips at the skin of her thumb, “Why not me?”

“It’s good for the team, baby. She’s a big name, her dad is a big investor. I have to do this.”

It hurts too much to ask, “What does that mean for us?”

He nods, “I knew you were going to ask me this. This doesn’t mean anything for us. It just means that we have to stay quiet for a little while longer. I’m still your boyfriend, Y/n.”

She huffs, “Just in private.”

His arms slithers around her shoulders, a touch so cold she wants to shove it away, “I’ll always be yours. Anywhere. Anytime.”

Sure, let’s see if that proves true, she thought.

—

Olivia is a woman of many things. Kindness is not one of them.

From the moment she steps foot into Lando’s life, Y/n is her main target. From backhanded compliments to obvious jests at her, Y/n watches as Lando lets it all go unsaid.

“Y/n?” Olivia’s voice rings in Y/n’s ear as she stops her staring at Lando.

Turning her head, Y/n smile is strained, “Yes?”

Olivia cocks her head and the sinister look looms beneath her blue eyes, “You’re sitting too close to Lando. Remember, he’s my boyfriend outside. Anybody could see you eyefucking him right now.”

Y/n analyzes the situation. At a lunch table in the paddock, Lando sitting to her left, Olivia to her right, fans and employees scattered amongst the ground below them, Y/n feels her tolerance break a bit more.

She slides her chair across the ground, a dry screeching ringing her ears and drowning out the anger toward the two people sitting closest to her.

Olivia, the woman she loathes, and Lando, the man she hates that she loves. Since the beginning of their act, Y/n has understood where her place is, or at least she has understood from the constant reminder from all people involved. Lando, Olivia, Zak, and Jon have made it their duty to remind her of her image as Lando’s best friend, nothing more.

In the beginning, she felt as though she meant a bit more than just nothing, but, as she sits between the couple as they share small talk, she feels to be falling behind.

A sort of feeling that plasters her heart on the wall and spreads it around until its pieces and bits are left on the ground.

A sort of feeling that forces her to grab her purse and leave the table, mumbling an excuse of wanting to find Oscar, the only other man she knows throughout the paddock.

The feeling worsens when Lando smiles at her, nodding his head along as if there’s no problem.

There’s a wetness pooling in her eyes that begs to differ, that counters Lando’s implications.

🏎️

Y/n finds Oscar in his driver’s room, his body hunched over the bench as he texts Lily on his phone. When he hears the creaking of the door, his eyes lift and begin to soften when they take in Y/n.

“Hey! What’s up?” He cheerfully says, the tone making Y/n draw in a breath as she plasters a smile on her face.

She plops down on his massage bed, “Nothing! Just bored.”

At that, he seems confused, “Where’s Lando? He isn’t free? I feel like it can’t get boring with him.” He chuckles.

She smiles softly, head falling down to stare at her hands in her lap, “He’s with Olivia. Thought I’d give them their space.”

She raises her eyes when she hears Oscar let out a scoff. He stares at her blankly before groaning, “I’m so sorry, I know she’s Lando’s girlfriend and all, but, oh my god, Y/n, I can’t stand her.”

Her teeth shine from her giggles, “Ah, she’s okay. She’s not that bad.”

Oscar deadpans, “Y/n, she asked you how much your Chanel purse was and then told you hers was more expensive.”

Y/n shakes her head, eyes falling back down to her lap, “Yeah, that wasn’t her finest moment.”

“It would make more sense for Lando to date you.” He whispers. Whether he meant for her to hear it or not, Y/n doesn’t know. Regardless, she acts as if she doesn’t, not wanting to have to create a situation where she has to genuinely lie to one of her friends.

As if she hasn’t been doing that for the past year she’s been with Lando.

Lying to every person she cherished most was the worst thing to ask of her. There was a resentment that brewed below the love she had for Lando because of the things he made her give up for him.

“Are you staying for the race? I know it goes pretty late into the night.” Oscar pipes up when a silence encompasses them.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m going to go back to the hotel after this.”

“Oh, too bad.” Oscar sighs as he gets up from his seat, walking over to her and peeking in her bag.

Y/n’s eyebrow inches up, “What are you doing?”

Oscar plants a sly smile on his face as his hand lightly pushes the bag open further, “Got any gum in here?”

She laughs loudly as he continues to search through her bag, less ashamed now. She’s keeled over when she hears him cackle. Y/n looks to see Oscar clasping a small package in his hand, a large smile on his face as he stares in disbelief.

“A condom?! Why do you have a condom?!” He screams, which warrants Y/n to slap her hands over his mouth.

She whispers, “Shut up!”

Oscar's mouth slobbers over her palms as he continues to laugh, “Who are you planning on sleeping with here, Y/n?”

She draws a blank, saying the one thing that comes to her mind, “He isn’t involved with F1.”

Another lie added to the pile she agitatedly sits on.

Oscar draws back, “Oh? There’s an actual man in the picture?”

She grins slightly, grabbing her bag and moving toward the door, “And you wonder why I’m leaving early.”

Oscar stays there, still chuckling at the leftover condom in his hand.

🏎️

Hours later, Lando is running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping random strangers to ask if they had seen Y/n.

Oscar stands off to the side when he hears Lando’s frantic voice behind him, petrifying an innocent fan asking for a simple photo. He waltzes over, hand coming to clasp Lando’s shoulder before saying, “Why don’t you just take the picture, mate?”

Lando turns his head, eyeing Oscar before fully moving his body the other way, “Do you know where Y/n is? I haven’t heard from her at all.”

Oscar looks at Lando blankly, “She left. You didn’t know?”

Lando steps back, “Left? No? What?”

Sensing that there is more to this discussion, he leans around Lando and grabs the fan’s phone. He shuffles Lando and the fan into the frame before snapping the picture, ushering the fan away gently.

When they’re left alone, Oscar questions, “How come you didn’t know? It seemed like a set plan when she told me. She’s going to meet some guy, she said.”

Lando’s eyes bulge, “What?”

The tone is low, intimidating and it makes Oscar doubt the platonic dynamic of the two.

“She hasn’t answered your calls? Have you tried to call her?” Oscar changes the subject, not wanting to realize something when Lando actively has a girlfriend.

Lando shakes his head, “No. Who’s this guy?”

“I don’t know, Lando. She didn’t say anything about him. Ask her about it later. After the race.” Oscar tries, knowing Lando’s presence is direly needed in a few minutes when the lights go out on the track.

Lando huffs, “Fine.”

He walks off, clearly irritated at Y/n’s disappearance.

Oscar watches the scene play out in front of him.

Lando’s figure vanishes from sight.

Then, out of the corner of Oscar’s eye, Olivia’s eyes stay on Lando’s distress before he goes out of sight. She leans against a wall, a smirk on her face that reads something dark.

She shakes her head, tapping away at her phone, as she snickers to herself, seemingly satisfied with her boyfriend’s response.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to witness her behavior.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to see Lando’s and Olivia’s relationship in a different light.

In the sea of people, Oscar is the only person to question what really goes on behind closed doors.

—

“Shit fucking race. Shit fucking day. Shit fucking year. Jesus fucking Christ.” Lando whispers to himself as he unlocks the door to his hotel room.

When he enters through the threshold, the lights are completely out, the only light being the soft sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Y/n’s body lays cuddled under the blankets of the bed and the sight melts Lando’s heart, no matter how disappointed he is in her lack of support today.

He checks the clock, noticing the blaring 7 that makes him feel more comfortable waking Y/n up.

“Baby,” He says lightly, hands shaking her body softly, “Love, wake up.”

She groans under his touch, body crouching further under the bed sheets before her eyelids flutter open.

She looks at him in a raw way that makes him feel exposed, her piercing gaze striking his soul permanently.

“Where’d you go?” He asks as she sits up, blankets still wrapped tightly around her cool body.

She sighs, “I left, Lando.”

“So I heard. To go meet a man, might I add.” He says. Although, this time, it continues to be soft, but there’s a passive undertone that communicates the feeling of abandonment.

She shakes her head, “No, that’s a lie. Just like we are.”

He rears back, “Excuse me?”

His hands are wound tightly across each of her arms and they flex under her skin as the truth lingers in Lando’s ears.

Y/n groans as she pulls herself away from him, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What? Me? Us?” He adds, his body standing up and towering over her.

She mimics his movement, the sheets falling from her shoulders as she extends her limbs, “Everything, Lando. This whole situation! I was so fucking stupid to think that you being in a PR relationship while we were together was something that could work.”

Lando shrugs, “What are you talking about?! You’ve never told me it wasn’t working!”

Her jaw drops open, “You thought this was working?! You thought I was fine with you parading around outside with another girl? Something I’ve wanted for way too long!”

“Y/n, this is bullshit! It’s on you for not telling me how you were feeling!” He remarks, hands being shoved inside his pockets as they bicker back and forth.

She rubs a hand over her forehead, “No, it’s not bullshit, Lando! You’re bullshit! This whole fucking relationship is bullshit! It’s been a fucking lie from the moment it started! I don’t want to be a part of that.”

He sits back down, head in his hands as they pull at the strands, “I don’t know what to tell you, Y/n.”

She stands, vulnerable and helpless, before him as she whispers, “Do you know what it feels like to feel like the other woman when you’re supposed to be the main one? Do you know what it feels like to feel like a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of and hide from prying eyes? Do you know what it fucking feels like to feel so incredibly alone next to a man who is supposed to give you the world? It feels like shit, Lando. You make me feel like shit. You and Zak and Jon and Olivia and everyone else tied to your name. You all make me feel like shit.”

There’s a tear that falls from Lando’s eye as he wills himself to look her in the eye, “I still want to give you the entire world.”

“You can’t.”

The weight of her statement and the hard way she says it breaks him. She stopped living in delusions long ago and he stayed in a land where having her was possible.

“I’m sorry,” He says, watching her put clothes on and grab her suitcase.

“I know you are.” She responds, a beat passing before she whispers back, “I’m sorry too.”

Her definitive statement achingly stays with him as he watches her gather her things and call an Uber.

“Where are you going to go?” He says softly, almost as if breaking the silence will break them further.

“My sister’s house. You know, you remember cause I told you, she lives a few hours from here.”

He nods, “Text me when you get there?”

She stands at the door, he stands with her, and she shakes her head, “No, Lando.”

She walks out the door, Lando grabs her arm, “Is this it? I don’t understand. Are we…” He can’t bring himself to say it.

She breathes, “I’m not sure either, to be honest. I know I said I couldn’t do this anymore with you, but it’s not that easy and I know what we have. I’ve never felt this before. I just need some time and space from you, from this world. I need to decide if staying is really worth the situation I’ve been put in.”

She walks further down the hall and Lando watches her, a few more sentences lingering in his brain that has him wishing he had said them to her.

He doesn’t get a chance to say them, however.

The elevator doors close before he can get them out.

—

There’s loud cheering and sounds of yells as Lando throws off his helmet, a large smile on his face as his first race win seeps under his skin.

He throws his body into the group of his mechanics, hugging his favorite people, and when he turns, expecting to see his favorite girl, he sees Olivia instead.

He tries to hide his disappointment as he hugs her, her body not fitting the way Y/n’s had.

There’s a silence that falls upon him as he gazes upon the thousands of people yelling his name and he’s hit with a deep wave of grief.

Grieving over the loss of his best friend, the loss of his girlfriend, the loss of the love of his life, the loss of his Y/n.

Images of her dance in his head as Mark Webber ushers him over, a microphone in each hand as he smiles at him.

A memory of the time she told him all the things she loved about him because he was feeling inadequate plagues his brain as Mark congratulates him.

“Lando! Stellar job here today in Silverstone! How does it feel to have your first race win?” Mark inquires, shaking Lando’s shoulder lovingly.

Lando hesitates to answer because, frankly, it fucking sucks. He meets Jon’s eyes and the man looks as if he’s lost himself. Jon stares at him with a deep gaze, a look Lando recognizes as the way Jon looks when he’s utterly ashamed of himself. Lando can already tell what he’s about to mouth before Jon’s lips begin to move, “I’m so sorry.” He says inaudibly.

The Brit takes the three words as a green light. The confirmation he can get his girl back.

“Not great.” Lando says into the microphone, the crowds falling silent at his surprising words.

Mark frowns, “Oh? Why’s that? This is a happy day!”

Lando shakes his head as he looks down and sighs, “You know, I always thought I would be so over the moon to win my first race, but, as I stand here, a trophy awaiting me, I genuinely feel so disappointed. I feel disappointed because I’ve lost sight of the one win in my life that I lost so stupidly. My best friend, Y/n, as everyone knows her, was never my best friend. I mean, she was my best friend, but she was also my girlfriend, somebody I was incredibly in love with. Somebody I am in love with. Shit, this is so messy and so hard to condense into this short interview, but I have to say it. Olivia and I were a PR stunt. There were individuals that wanted me to be dating someone of a higher status, something Y/n doesn’t have. She was forced to sit through four months of excruciating pain because Olivia and I were being shoved in her face. Y/n is one of the strongest people I know, the fact she was able to go through that with a straight face proves that. But, I can’t let what she told me the night she left me go unsaid.” Lando looks into the camera, as cheesy as he knows it is and says what he had wanted to tell her that night as the elevator doors cut him off, “Y/n, you are not the other woman. You are not a dirty secret and you are not alone. You are the complete opposite of all those things. You are the one person I’ve ever truly loved; the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with; the one person I cannot live without; the one person that I cannot bear hurting. I’ve hurt you, I know that, a lot of people involved in this have and I hate that. I hate that I didn’t stop what was going on, fight back against what they were asking me to do. I’m so sorry. If I could redo it, I would. I would say no to it all and go public with you. I would tell you a thousand times yes that night on the sofa when you asked me if we could go public. I would do it all so differently because, maybe I didn’t before, but I know what I’ve lost now and I will fight so much harder for us, harder than I did that night you walked out because I have been in love with you for so long. I’ve waited for you my entire life, even before I knew who you were. I’ve waited for the person I ended up settling down with, waited for the person who stole my breath. I’ve waited for you and I’m not going to let that go to waste. I was dick and I took you for granted. Please let me show you that that was never the way I wanted to treat you, that I can love you better than that. Please let me back in. It’s public now, baby. Public and I don’t want that to ever change.”

Mark smiles brightly at him as the crowd behind them cheers deafeningly, “Young love, yeah?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

🏎️

Caroline sits on the arm of the couch next to Y/n, mouth agape. Y/n mirrors her expression, blanket wrapped around her legs as Lando retreats from the frame.

“What just happened?” Caroline, her sister, asks. There’s a small smile on her face as the shock wears off.

Y/n shakes her head, her hands already trying to find her phone, “I don’t know.”

The two watch as Lando is presented with his trophy, the camera zooming in on him as he mouths, “This one’s for you, love.”

Y/n is smiling so hard it’s painful and her sister watches her with delight. When the champagne spraying is done and the feed ends, Y/n leaps from the couch.

“Did you see that?!” She exclaims, giddy laughter over the one thing she had yearned for and finally got.

Caroline joins her incessant jumping, “Yes! It’s public!”

The two squeal together, but the noises are cut off when Y/n’s phone rings from between the couch cushions.

Caroline smiles before exiting the room, Lando’s contact photo lighting up her sister’s screen and cueing her leave.

However, she stays in the other room, eavesdropping without a care in the world.

Y/n picks up the phone, shaky hand bringing the device to her ear as Lando’s panting floods through the speaker.

“Y/n? Were you watching the race?” He asks.

She nods, tears in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes,”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, “So, you saw what I said?”

“Yes,”

He’s quiet for a moment, “And… what did you think?”

He hears quiet giggling on the other end of the phone and his heart soars to the sky, “You have a way with words, Lan.”

“Only with you,” He adds, smiling to himself over the girl miles away.

There’s a loud grunt and crash on his side of the phone, one that sends Y/n laughing.

“Let me guess, Olivia?” She tries to which Lando laughs.

“Right on the nail, baby.” He whispers as her yells continue.

“What do Zak and Jon think about this?” She asks after a time.

Lando tuts, “They’re glad to get rid of Olivia. Jon apologized to me the second I got off the podium. He said he wants to apologize to you too. So does Zak. They both do. They know how they went about it all was wrong and Jon went on this whole rant about seeing me as a son and how he would never want to treat his son the way he had treated me. Trust me, love, they’re as on board with this as we are.”

Y/n nods before asking quietly, “You’re on summer break now, right?”

“Yes,”

“What are your plans?”

He smiles, “Taking the first flight to you. Why?”

Y/n laughs, “I was going to ask you if I could come to Monaco, to see you, but it turns out seeing each other is a problem already solved.”

He chuckles along with her, “No, baby, you stay right where you are. It’s time I start coming to you now. Time I start showing you the lengths I’d go to to keep you in my life, to keep loving you.”

She blushes, “That speech sure accomplished that.”

His cheeks redden just like hers, “Oh, love, that’s just the beginning.”

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[earthtooz]

second chance romance with sae. write it.

x : WITH(OUT) :*+ﾟ

in which: after a messy breakup with sae, you find yourself waking up next to him two weeks later, this time just more in love.

warnings: 1.8k words, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, SFW, gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff with quite a bit of angst, a lot of metaphors here and there i apologise if they don't make sense get on my brainwave (nicely), ooc!sae perhaps uhh lol, bad writing, reblogs appreciated!!

a/n: lets see if tumblr community labels this post... sigh. rip first version u were a champ. this is my official claim to become tumblr's sfw itoshi brothers (separate) writer. i've made progress with rin, it's time to show some (reluctant) love to sae!! i literally only wrote this bc @limitlesshq and i had an agreement.

you wake up due to the rustling beside you, the movement rousing you from your slumber as the world becomes ever so clearer with each millisecond, the drowsy haze wearing off you as you take in your surroundings.

there’s a white ceiling overhead, the mattress beneath you feels like a cloud, and you can’t remember when your sheets turned a shade of gray. no- scratch that, you can’t remember when your mattress became this soft. 

hold on.

this wasn’t your room and the mop of magenta hair lying atop your chest is an indicator of such.

you’re in bed with a soccer star who just so happens to be the ex you messily broke up with two weeks ago. he’s wrapped around you like nothing had ever happened; as if you two were still in love and devoted to one another and hadn’t shouted at each other to the point that your throats were sore for a days afterwards. 

you needed to get out of here which was something easier said than done. especially when you had itoshi sae lying on top of you, wrapping you in a vice grip as he sunk further and further into your warmth, chest methodically rising up and down. you want to slap him for being so peaceful in this very moment. that should be you but instead, you’re panicking and trying to avoid another messy scene with your ex. 

the fact that said-ex was itoshi sae too… goodness what have you gotten yourself into. you should get out of here before it’s too late.

slowly, you begin to shuffle away, trying to pull yourself away from sae’s grasp. 

you’re halfway out when you hear the magenta-haired whine quietly, the sound causing you to turn your head and look at him. it’s to your horror that you’re greeted by a pair of hazy, turquoise eyes, still groggily waking up as sae tries to adjust to his bearings. he blinks a few times, waking up a little more with each flutter.

“where are you going?” he asks, voice hoarse from unuse. his arm tightens ever so slightly around you, pulling you back towards him and completely ruining your efforts.

you’re stunned, unsure of how to respond as sae tucks himself into your chest, breathing you in.

you hate the way you feel your heart lurch in your chest, rapidly beating with the urge to be as close as possible to him. this feels like a life you once knew, especially when his fingers start running up and down your spine, nimbly finding their way under your shirt. 

“sae,” you breathe out and his ministrations stop, diverting all of his attention upon you. “i have to go.”

he groans his protest, shaking his head. “why?”

“i just have to.”

“no.”

“what?”

“stay.”

“what?”

“did you not hear me? i said stay.”

just to prove his point a little more, he puts even more of his weight on you, tangling his legs with yours as if rooting you to his mattress. ever so demanding, he is.

the breakup was disastrous and entirely hurtful, wrecking you from the inside out when you woke up the next morning registering the previous night. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so heartbroken and it hurt even more with every trace of sae that remained in your apartment. looking back, perhaps it was a little naive to believe that he was the one for you, that he was your endgame and not simply another lesson to heal from. all that time spent in a relationship, crumbled thanks to an argument that lasted for three hours and ended with a decisive slam of his door. 

yet just when you thought you were making process on the journey away from him, sae finds a way to pull you back in.

“i can’t stay,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky.

the magenta-haired looks up at you, apathetic eyes boring into yours. “but why?”

“i just- i just can’t. thank you for letting me stay over but i’m going to go home now-”

fingers thread through yours and sae’s hand pulls yours closer towards him. a pair of warm lips press themself to your skin and linger there as if burning and branding you- all of you, as his. 

he then kisses each of your fingers delicately and softly. “don’t go,” he mutters between pecks.

you feel a little breathless. like he’s punched your gut with every piece of gentle affection he plants, twisting the knife he had stabbed in your chest two weeks ago deeper and deeper, reopening the raw wound of hurt and pain with unmatched love.

you need to leave before anything else can happen, before you begin breaking down in front of him. 

quickly shuffling away from the athlete, you abruptly pull your hand out of his, throwing the covers off of you. however quick you may have been though, sae is undeniably faster, his hands crossing the distance to pull you back. his strength forces you to sit down once more and you bounce a little from the soft impact. he drapes himself around you again, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“let me go,” you plead, putting your hands over his wrists as if trying to pry them off but you feel too much for sae to truly try and resist him. his spell, no matter how hard you try to fight back, is just as potent. 

you fear that you may never be immune to his poison. 

he begins trailing kisses along your skin, uncharacteristically affectionate. “i can’t,” he begins, voice wavering uncharacteristically, traces of heartbreak evident in his tone. this display of emotion shocks you endlessly and you stop fighting against him, freezing when you feel his breath shudder against your skin.

your heart is thumping heavily, causing your chest to clench.

"stop messing around, we-"

"i'm not messing around just stay," he hushes gently, "please."

you feel the world stop for a second. sae? pleading? he knew how to do that? the prospect of sae beseeching for anything was incredibly unfamiliar and the fact that his voice cracked merely proves how entirely unfamiliar the word was in his vocabulary. 

the love you feel for him will choke you before heartache does. unbeknownst to you, a tear begins sliding down your cheek and you don’t feel it until it’s halfway down.

“hey, hey, hey,” the magenta-haired mumbles, catching the tear with his thumb. “don’t cry.” 

he sounds so tender and doting it hurts. there’s so much love in the way he’s holding you, pressing himself closer to you with each minute as if he hates the idea of being too far away from you, as if he was trying to make sure that you were still the same love of his life from before he hurt you tremendously, as if he was committing you to memory before he does lose you forever.

but he doesn’t want that. he wants to stay with you. sae doesn’t think he can handle another day without you, that’s why he’s so stubborn to keep you here; to put you under his spell again so that you could feel an ounce of the love he has stored for you. so that this love has somewhere to go before it inevitably ruins him, punishing him for being so stupid. 

“i’m sorry,” whispers sae hurriedly. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry pretty, don’t cry.”

glancing away from him, you wipe away any remaining tears, inhaling deeply as to try and collect yourself with whatever willpower you had left.

"i need to leave," you murmur, not entirely meaning it.

"no you don't," he answers, entirely meaning it. "just stay until breakfast or something."

wordlessly, you fall back in his grasp, leaning into the athlete when you feel rapid beating against your arm. that’s when you realise that it wasn’t your racing heart… it was his. 

giving in to his desires, you tuck your legs back up on the bed and he manoeuvres you, practically cradling you whilst you find solace in his neck with your arms wrapped around his torso. here, you feel whole again. 

you’ve lived life with sae and without sae and you now know well enough to prefer the former. something tells you he feels the same too. 

“are you going to stay for breakfast?” he asks after a few minutes of simply soaking up the other’s presence. glancing up at him, his expression remains beautifully neutral, illuminated perfectly by the bright morning light that seeps through his windows. he’s radiant, gorgeous as ever. 

you hum against his skin. “i’m not too sure. i was going to leave before breakfast.”

“let’s go back to sleep then. i’m not hungry anymore.”

amused by his request, you agree nonetheless and sae is able to move the both of you around to the same positions you had woken up in with you on your back and him on top of you. the soccer player then pulls you closer and throws his leg over your hips- something he does to keep you in your spot so you won’t slip away from him again.

you won’t. you don’t want to leave and live a life without him. 

“are we back together?” you hesitantly ask. the question floats into the tranquil air, afraid to break whatever quiet, ecstatic haze you were both in but you need to know.

“will you take me back?” the soccer player counters, surprisingly shy and unsure, so unlike the arrogant sae you’re used to. he’s putting all the cards on your table despite knowing what he wants because although he wants to be with you for eternity and a little longer after that, it’s up to you to decide whether or not he deserves such a paradise.

sae can only hope you’re merciful. 

“i want to. i miss ‘us’, i miss you.” 

he immediately feels a heavy weight lift itself off and the exhale the magenta-haired lets out communicates his magnitude of relief. fate has saved him today. 

“good.” is all he says as your hands rise to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. “be here when i wake up.”

“so demanding,” you joke with a smile, “but okay.” 

as sae dozes off once more, you take the time to scan around his room once more whilst trying to lull yourself into dreamland as well. 

his decor had always been rather plain and it didn’t change until you started dating. remnants of you have been lingering around his place and you’re surprised he didn’t get rid of them the night you left out of rage. a little nanodroid that you gave him of a character from an anime you both like sits on his shelf, there’s that little fake plant on his desk, and there are still photos of you two on his dresser. 

he used to only have one pillow and the only reason he bought more was so you could sleep over comfortably. you don’t think too hard about the lingering smell of sae’s shampoo on the pillows that you had previously claimed as ‘yours’.

shifting a little so that you were comfortable, you gaze up at sae’s ceilings once more. a gentle smile makes its way to your face before you doze off peacefully knowing that two hearts have found their way back home. 

[pshcomforts]

➳ spring snow | psh.

bestfriend!sunghoon x fem!reader

“cause i’m falling slowly in love with you”

synopsis: you came down with a cold and your best friend, sunghoon, has offered to take care of you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff! tiny bit of angst. best friends to lovers. a little bit of idiots in love. nicknames like ‘idiot’ ‘dummy’ and ‘loser’ used. down bad sunghoon <3

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: self-indulgent bc i’m sick right now, and currently obsessed with lovely runner </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: spring snow by 10cm

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:39 ───|──────────────── 2:42

a cough erupted out of y/n as she fought for her life. her nose was stuffy, and her throat was aching from the cold she randomly caught.

she heavily sighed, cursing to herself for missing an important lecture.

“i should’ve gone..,” she softly whimpered.

as she fumed a little longer, a sudden notification had caught her attention.

sunghoon <3:

Where are you?

Are you running late?

panic spread across her face when she read her best friends texts, quickly typing back with quiet coughs leaving her throat.

y/n:

sorry, hoon! i’m actually not feeling good so i decided to skip the lecture for today…

sunghoon <3:

Are you lying, or are you really sick?

y/n:

why would i lie to you about this..

sunghoon <3:

So you don’t have to hear my scolding? 😒

y/n:

i swear, sunghoon, i’m sick! do you want me to send an audio of me coughing or something..

sunghoon <3:

.. No

the girl breathed out a laugh once she found no more texts from him. she widely grinned as she thought about the handsome boy, easily imagining his displeased look in her head.

her heart fluttered and butterflies erupted in her stomach. she fisted her hands to stop the sensations forming around her body as she shook it off.

“stop it, y/n, he’s just a friend.” she murmured to herself, unable to make the imaginary hoon in her head disappear.

“this cold is really getting to me…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh before wrapping herself in her warm blankets.

“maybe a nap will do..,” her voice squeaked, body already falling on borderline exhaustion. she yawned out a little more before resting her eyes and eventually knocking out.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a half hour had just passed and the girl was still sound asleep when a few knocks had been heard at the door.

she grumbled out a sigh before checking the time.

“who’d even be here at this time?” she sighed, still finding the sun brightly beaming down on every view she could find.

the knocks had been heard again and she quickly checked to see if anything could be related to whatever was outside. indeed, she found a few missed texts from her beloved friend.

sunghoon <3:

Open the door

Are you asleep??

Hello..?

she exhaled a breath as her stomach flooded with nervous bubbles.

“why is he here..?” she muttered under her breath.

the girl dusted herself, and though she was sure she still looked like a train wreck, she couldn’t be too bothered with how much her sickness took over.

she slowly cracked the door open and found an adorable sunghoon patiently waiting.

“finally!” he shouted. “took you long enough, i was almost gonna call you.”

maybe not that patient.

y/n scrunched her brows in confusion. “why are you even here, hoon?”

his heart slightly dropped at her questioning, but he only nervously laughed it away.

“you’re sick, dummy. you need to be taken care of.” sunghoon murmured, pinching one side of her cheeks.

she quickly swatted the hand away as she still remained puzzled.

“you’re gonna take care of me?” her voice mumbled, causing him to shyly nod. “but you never do this..?”

hoon only sighed as he joked, “well do you want me to leave? because i still can.”

“no, no.. i’m just a little shocked right now.”

y/n’s heart was about to burst. he was fueling her delusions about the potential thought of them being together, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

she heard him give a chuckle when he set his backpack down. “i care about you, y/n. are you that shocked?” his simple grin sent heart throbs, making her tired body tingle even more.

“well you always tease and make fun of me so.. yeah, i’m shocked.”

the girl sniffed away her snot that ran down from her cold as he laughed again.

“don’t be too surprised that i’m a caring person.” sunghoon uttered, shaking his head while hiding his huge smile away. “i’m usually nice to you anyway.”

y/n guffawed out a scoff, sending a soft smack towards his arm as she muttered, “yeah right! you weren’t nice when i asked for the lecture notes 40 minutes ago, and you said no!”

the male giggled as he thought back to their texts, heart melting at his friends stuffy voice. “well who told you to stay home? that lecture was really important!” he teased back, lips instantly curling at her gasp and eye roll.

“if you’re just here to bicker with me then please leave, hoon. i’m too sick to argue.” she huffed, shaking her head.

“okay, okay, fine, i’m sorry.” he slightly pouted, causing her to softly smile. “i really am here to take care of you though.”

sunghoon ruffled her hair, letting it run messy everywhere as his eyes twinkled in the scene of his friend struggling to leave his teasing act. his lips coiled again, unable to hide his facial expressions with how much he adored her.

“sunghoon!” the girl yelled, pushing his hand away.

his heart pounded at the sound of his name leaving her lips, making him stop the ruffles.

“your friend is sick and you’re really doing this to her!”

hoon chuckled at her words before the word — ‘friend’ — hit him. his heart stung a little and he retracted himself back, officially putting a stop to all of the teasings as y/n still huffed with hair pieces around her face.

“can i go back to sleep now?” she mumbled, throat immediately running dry.

sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head while replying, “what’s the point of me being here if you’re just gonna sleep?”

“you volunteered to be here!”

“exactly, which is why you need to stay out here while i reheat my moms soup for you!”

the girl wore a frown, but her stomach betrayed her when it rumbled at the mention of food, causing her friend to chortle out a laugh.

“see? your stomach wants me to stay.”

he wore a shit eating grin, making y/n playfully roll her eyes and nudge him. “now go stay on the couch, i’ll reheat it up for you.” he sweetly muttered like a boyfriend.

her heart instantly raced and a few coughs suddenly bursted from her as the thought of him being a well-mannered boyfriend flooded her mind.

“get a hold of yourself, idiot.” she said under her breath.

“did you say something??”

her head whipped up at sunghoon and she quickly shook her head. “no! um.. just don’t burn my kitchen down… please.. i know you suck at cooking.”

he scoffed out a ridiculed laugh. “it’s just reheating soup, how bad can that get?”

bad, because within seconds, the boy let the pot heat up on the stove too long, making the cold soup instantly smoke up when he added it in.

the alarms rang off the hook and y/n’s ears rang like crazy; and if that wasn’t enough, sunghoons deep voice screaming at the steam was the cherry on top.

“sunghoon!!” she shouted, giving a faint scold as she fanned beneath her smoke detectors.

his cheeks flushed and his ears instantly became red while he stood in the kitchen like a six year old getting yelled at.

“sorry…,” his soft voice murmured, feeling self-conscious with the way he embarrassed himself in front of his friend.

“i didn’t know there was a time limit with how long the pot had to heat up…,”

y/n huffed out a sigh, instantly dropping her slight annoyance when she came face to face with the boy who was softly pouting. a laugh escaped from her and she only shook her head.

“you’re an idiot, you know that?” she joked, causing a faint grin to be placed on him. “of course it’s gonna smoke when you leave it on high heat for 10 minutes.”

“stop it, y/n… i’m embarrassed, you don’t have to acknowledge what i did wrong.” sunghoon covered his face with his hands, blocking off every facial feature but his ears that were still brightly colored red.

the girl chuckled, grin widening as her sickness almost left her when he remained shy in his actions.

“i don’t know if i should trust you in my kitchen ever again..,”

hoon rolled his eyes and smiled. “okay, it wasn’t even that bad!”

“you literally set off my smoke alarms!”

“okay.. but nothing caught on fire!”

y/n shook her head, hearty coughs still leaving her throat as she heaved her chest up and down.

“you were supposed to take care of me, but stressed me out instead!”

he seethed air through his teeth in guilt, head low while he chewed on his lips. “sorry…,” the male muttered. “i swear i was trying so hard not to do anything that’d make you get up!”

she laughed at his words and replied, “that’s sweet of you, hoon, but you did.”

“i know…, i’m still embarrassed.”

he placed his hands over his face once more, but peeked his eyes through separated fingers to catch her reaction. y/n wore a huge smile, eyes creasing into half moon crescents that caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

he softened his gaze once he felt it and they instantly twinkled with a deep warmth that was only for her.

the remaining words that spewed out of the girl had quickly been deafened as he continued to stare at her, making her snap at him — “sunghoon?? did you even hear me?”

“oh.. um… yes!” he tried to cheese a grin, but she obviously wasn’t convinced.

“and what did i say..?”

“something about… your cold being worse..?”

he pressed his lips into a firm line, forming a bread smile as her tongue clicked in disappointment.

“you weren’t listening.., what’s even distracting you?”

her, but he couldn’t say that.

y/n folded her arms while she awaited for an answer, making him gulp.

first, he invited himself inside. second, he almost burned down her kitchen. and now, he wasn’t even processing whatever she had to say.

“um..,” he swallowed down a lump in his throat, trying to find whatever could be distracting. “your snot, y/n! it’s uh.. dripping! yeah, that!”

the girl felt her heart drop and she immediately ran around to find tissues. what dumb luck did hoon have that she actually was dripping with snot?

he breathed out a sigh of relief, hand clenching onto his chest with how close he was to getting caught.

y/n quickly came back, cheeks slightly tinted pink. “back to what i was saying… how about i just heat up the soup myself?” she suggested, causing him to widen his eyes and shake his head.

“no, you’re sick. i can’t have you walking around when you should be resting.”

her brows scrunched and her head slightly tilted as a soft laugh escaped from her. “hoon.. you literally made me run around my apartment to stop the alarms…,”

sunghoon thought back to her constant feet pattering he heard not too long ago, and sighed. “anymore. i won’t have you walking around anymore,” he firmly corrected himself.

she took a sigh as well, finally falling to defeat as he proudly pushed her toward her couch.

“don’t stress about it.., soup will be in your much-needed tummy soon!”

y/n couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at his words, but eventually let him continue with how eager he was to do something so sweet.

with the man in the kitchen, she felt her pupils dilate whenever she laid her eyes on him, heart almost jumping out of her throat with how quick it was beating.

sunghoon was instantly looking like a boyfriend to her, and she couldn’t fight those thoughts anymore — his tall figure, the oversized hoodie perfectly fitting him, his pretty face gleaming at the bubbling pot.

of course, he did almost burn down her kitchen, but he was redeeming himself right now.

the girl was almost soaring with how much she was falling for him. though she was still fighting for her life, sunghoon being there for her was already making her feel better — even if he stressed her out for a second.

but she swiftly shook it off once the friend had turned around with a proud look spread across his face.

“it’s done! this soup will instantly make you feel better when you eat it.” he murmured, lips still curling at his final success attempt of reheating his moms soup.

y/n softly reflected his grin back as she sat across from him. “your mom’s the best, hoon!” she quickly dug in, heart melting and tummy warming at the soothing broth.

sunghoon tried to hide away his obvious beam but couldn’t help it. his eyes were glistening, his fangs were flashing, and his mind was going crazy with the girl he liked in front of her.

was this how it’d always be if she got sick, and he’d offer to take care of her? (yes)

his heart swelled with the possible future in his hands as the girl continued to eat.

“you don’t want to eat any?” she murmured, but he fully shook his head and pushed the bowl further to her — “it’s all yours, loser. my mom packed it specifically for you.”

she quietly coughed at the sudden nickname, scowling back a look while he only chuckled.

“you didn’t think i’d grow a soft spot for you just because you got sick, did you?” he teased mercilessly.

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before going back to chomping. typical sunghoon. one minute he was sweet, the next he was just a guy who loved to tease a little too much.

he continued to wear a huge grin though as she munched, making the girl fully unaware of how much love he held in his eyes.

once her stomach was full, hoon forced her to sit on the couch with a blanket wrapped around while he cleaned the dishes.

the feeling of him taking care of her was strange, but she liked it. it was something she could get use to if he liked her back (idiot).

when sunghoon finished, he plopped directly next to her on the couch with an idiotic grin, eyes full of hearts and stomach bubbled from feeling nervous.

“um, sunghoon?” y/n poked. “shouldn’t you sit a little further away? i can get you sick.”

he scoffed and laughed as if she told the funniest joke ever. “if i didn’t want to risk getting sick, i wouldn’t have chosen to come over… dummy.” he chuckled at the name he gave her while rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“do you want me to move?”

her face instantly flushed with a hue of pink and she subtly tried to turn away from it. “no.. you can stay if you want.”

“do you want me to stay?”

sunghoon’s heart quickly thumped with every surge of confidence he got from her shy reactions.

his eyes flickered at her turned head, tilting his own in confusion before muttering, “are you that sick that you can’t look at me?”

“i can! my throat’s just.. itchy so i don’t want to cough in your face,” she tried to shoot back.

he huffed out a slight laugh at her lame attempt of an excuse. “is it that hard to stare at my handsome face?” he asked, knowing that she’d face him right after.

“what!” y/n’s hoarse voice spoke. “i can!”

she quickly laid her eyes back onto him and almost instantly, the two felt their hearts explode with fireworks.

sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp, blinking repeatedly with how quick their nose tips touched. she was much closer than she should’ve been, and the boy was flustered.

“y/n.. you’re um…,” he swallowed another lump, adams apple bobbing as every butterfly in his stomach multiplied.

“see! i can look at you!” she yelled, honestly unaware of how flushed her friend was becoming.

“yeah, you win.” he replied, nudging her forehead away before she could hear his loud heartbeats.

hoon held onto his chest, trying to calm his nerves when y/n only clicked her tongue.

“tried to challenge me but lost instead.. idiot.” she mumbled to herself, giving crunchy coughs afterward.

a grin plastered onto his face after her words processed. “yeah.. i lost” — but he didn’t, because he felt like a winner with how close her nose tip accidentally grazed over his.

he bit his bottom lip to hide away another smile as he muttered, “i think it’s time for you to take some medicine.”

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust. “i know i’m sick, but i hate taking cough syrup.”

“well you need it because you’re coughing like you’re on your death bed.”

an audible gasp was heard from her and she quickly smacked his arm. “sunghoon!” she yelled, earning a laugh from him.

“i’m just stating the obvious!”

he flashed a heart-throbbing grin and she almost melted at it, vision quick to lose sight with how alarmingly charming it was.

“you didn’t need to say that..,” she scowled.

his fangs were still brightly shown as he murmured, “come on, just take the medicine. it’ll benefit you.”

his hands offered a cup of the cough syrup that y/n hated. she downed it quickly but her lips pursed together like she tasted lemon.

sunghoon hollered out another laugh, eyes squeezing shut at how she shook her head in disapproval.

“that was gross!!” she exclaimed, making happy tears well up in the boy. “stop making fun of your sick friend, she doesn’t appreciate it, you know?”

he continued his laughing streak until he deemed it enough, wiping away a tear drop as he watched y/n roll her eyes.

“okay, sorry, hoon is acknowledging that.” he replied, giving a little play on her third person usage.

her lips coiled into a smile as she sent another soft hit to him. “you’re stupid.”

“and you’re sick, so get back in your blankets.”

before she could protest, sunghoon was quick to wrap it around her, giving her no time to react at the way his arms enclosed them together.

he tugged the sheets around her shoulders, gaze completely concentrated on the amount of blankets that covered her.

his face was leaned in, close to the point where her lips could ghost over his cheeks for a soft peck.

she felt her face heat up at the very thought, mind instantly craving for that moment while she watched his thick, dark brows scrunch for complete focus. she couldn’t help but linger her gaze down to his other pretty features.

being this close to her handsome friend felt mind numbingly crazy.

when the boy had finished, he gleamed a half smile before pulling away, proud of how he was able to ensure every blanket had securely been wrapped around her.

she quietly gasped for air after hoon’s brows raised in satisfaction of his work. “there! now you’re warm!” his voice yelled. “you can go to sleep now.”

y/n flickered her gaze to him, watching the way he softly patted his shoulder. she let a puff of air slip by her lips in disbelief as she shoved him.

“why are you being so sweet right now?”

was it not obvious to her that he wanted to feel her rest her head on his shoulder?

sunghoon’s lips pursed together while trying to find the right words. “you’re sick, y/n, why wouldn’t i be sweet right now?” he awkwardly laughed, stomach rupturing in butterflies. “i don’t want my friend to get bad treatment while she’s sick.”

he cheesed a grin and she only shook her head, eventually complying to his offer and laying on his shoulder.

his heart instantly raced at the little bump her head made against him, and he couldn’t help the huge smile that took form on his face from it.

“what should we watch?” y/n mumbled, unconsciously cuddling closer.

“what are you feeling?” sunghoon softly gulped as he forced his attention to stay on the device in front of them.

“mm..,” she thought. “oh! wanna watch lovely runner??”

he raised his brows in confusion. “lovely.. runner?”

“hoon, you need to watch more series…,” she scowled back at him. “let’s watch it!”

the boy was about to make a remark but stopped himself, agreeing with her suggestion since it was her sick day after all.

the drama played, episode after episode as the two stayed glued on the couch, holding each other close — both forgetting that they were just friends.

when another episode had finished, sunghoon’s eyes carefully watched the end credits. he chuckled, excited to start on the next one.

“should we watch another?” he murmured, waiting for an answer when nothing from y/n had been heard.

another minute passed and soft snores had finally erupted out of her.

he scoffed out a laugh, lips quickly curling at her quiet noises before turning his head.

“you’re really asleep?” the boy said, voice kept small to not wake her.

in seconds, the episode was paused and sunghoon carried his sick friend to her bed with ease.

laying her down carefully, his movements were slow and steady. the only thing audible were y/n’s continuous little snores and hoon’s heavy breathing.

the girl was finally set down, wrapped in blankets as he glanced at her state. his heart was pounding in his ears and his fingernails were scratching his palms to calm himself.

even when she was sickly pale, she was still someone who caught his attention timelessly. he loved her, and every little thing that complimented with him.

his lips curled at her, gaze softening as he quietly murmured, “i like you, dummy. can’t you notice me?”

sunghoon sighed, feeling stupid at how he confessed to his friend who still remained asleep. his heart began to shatter, shards painfully stabbing him as he started to head for the door.

however, a hand grab was quick to stop him, holding him back from moving any further. his heart dropped at the fast realization, mind instantly going through scenarios of y/n rejecting him.

slowly, he turned with a fragile mindset, ready to be declined from his crush.

“y/n…,” the male gulped.

she only beamed a half smile when she sat up as her eyes still drooped in fatigue. “i do notice you, loser.” she admitted with flushed cheeks. “because i like you too.. i like you a lot, actually.”

hoon’s face lit up in shock, eyes being blown wide as he felt adrenaline rush through his body. “you like me??” he questioned, falling in disbelief of her words.

y/n bit her lips, hiding away her smile while nodding. “i’ve liked you for a while now… and honestly, you taking care of me made me fall in love with you even more.”

her gaze trailed up to his face, watching how he proudly wore his wide grin made her heart flutter.

“stop looking at me like that..,” she uttered, softly pushing his shoulder, but he couldn’t help it. the girl he’s longed for finally said the words he’s been wanting to hear.

sunghoon flashed his charming fangs at her as he smiled in delight. “what else can i do? my friend’s in love with me.”

“i said like, not love!” she defended.

“i heard love…,” he teased back, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

he gave another chuckle before leaning in, lips yearning for hers when she dodged away.

his head tilted in confusion and she only laughed at that. “i’m still sick, hoon. i don’t want to get you sick.” y/n muttered, earning a ridiculed taunt to come from him.

“you think i care about that? the girl i’ve loved for so long has just confessed to me so i’m gonna kiss her.”

sunghoon quickly leaned in again, close to kissing a flustered y/n when she pulled away once more. he softly pouted, face frowning as his gaze stay locked on her lips.

“sunghoon,” she called, but he didn’t answer. the boy continued to be mindlessly stuck on the sight of her lips.

she sent a soft hit to his broad chest, finally catching his attention as his eyes grew hungry.

“i seriously don’t want to get you sick,” she mumbled, face scrunching to emphasize her worry.

hoon only scoffed, biting his lips as he replied — “and i seriously don’t care.”

before she could say more, he swiftly crashed his lips against hers, swooning the girl in seconds. she gasped, earning an entrance for sunghoon as he smiled against her — enjoying the shocked reaction he was able to receive.

his hands firmly held her cheeks, cupping them so she could stay put while she held onto his arms, softly gripping onto his hoodie with the evidential crave in his kiss.

y/n finally pushed against his chest, giving him the signal to pull away and he did. his face continued to linger near hers, eyes searching for flushed cheeks.

“sunghoon!” she quietly scolded, earning a chuckle from his attractive voice.

she felt his lips softly curl against hers and she couldn’t help but to smile as well.

“now you’re gonna get sick.”

her gaze peered into his, making his heart melt while he raised his brows. “i guess you’ll have to be the one to take care of me now.”

he grinned as she rolled her eyes, cupping her cheeks once more for sweet kisses on the lips. he gave soft pecks, continuing on and on before y/n turned her head away.

“i know you like me, but i’m still sick! don’t kiss me right now.” she huffed, trying to swat him away.

sunghoon chuckled. “you should’ve told me that minutes ago, now i don’t want to stop kissing you.”

he leaned in again but the girl dodged her head away. “no, sunghoon!!” she giggled, attempting to push at his chest.

“just one!”

y/n sighed before complying, pushing herself closer for a soft peck on the lips.

“one more?”

her face morphed in disbelief, eventually leaning in for another. a quick plant on his lips was made and he only smiled.

“another?”

“hoon… no.” she folded her arms and shook her head. “my throat is hurting and i’m about to cough if i lean in again.”

sunghoon raised his thick brows mischievously. “so i’ll lean in then.” and so he tried, closing his eyes and expecting a kiss on the lips when he met her cheek instead.

“why don’t you want to kiss your new boyfriend?” he softly whined, becoming clingy within seconds.

y/n scrunched her face as she grinned and nudged him. “because your new girlfriend is sick and wants to rest.”

his lips pushed together and presented duck lips, pouting while wrapping his arms around her. “fine then, let’s rest, hm?” he murmured.

the two laid beside each other, facing one another as his eyes twinkled with love, mind in complete disbelief of how he was able to get his girl.

“i’m so lucky,” his voice uttered in the silence.

“hm?” sleepy y/n replied back.

“i’m lucky you fell in love with me.”

“and i’m lucky you loved me back, and also didn’t burn down my kitchen.” she murmured, voice almost gone from her cold.

sunghoon chuckled and let a huge grin plaster onto his face as he leaned in once more, placing a longing kiss on the tip of her nose.

“get to sleep, pretty girl.” he whispered.

y/n yawned, nodding her head and complying without an insult with how exhausted she was.

he pulled her closer into his arms, engulfing her into his soothing embrace as he muzzled his head on top of hers.

she breathed in his scent, feeling at home when she easily rested her hands at his chest.

the two cuddled, holding each other close to their dearest hearts with a new relationship that just unfolded.

✩ ‘all my life is you’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[caitlinbueckers]

take care.

caitlin clark x reader type beat PART 2!!!!!!!!

6.2k (what the fuck)

ok. Listen!!!!!! This is long time coming and also is a disgusting amount of words and dialogue and like weird subtextual angst masked with smut honestly it’s pure delusion on a page also ending only slightly abrupt bc it was unfathomably long sorry

wasn’t gonna make the sequel so in depth like ??? How’d this one shot turn into a fic 😐 no Clue but all i know is that insecure sort of self deprecative caitlin clark with this soft dominance of a reader combined with two bitches who won’t admit their feelings is my crack!!!! let me know if a part 3 is even needed or if yall even care teehee

no beta simply just vibes

ANYWAYYZZZZZ love u guys sorry that i suck!!!

two weeks.

it had been two weeks since you’d texted that number with your name, a simple contact, and she’d liked the message, and that was it.

it wasn’t like things immediately changed— you still, somehow, made your flight despite the throbbing headache that reverberated in your skull, and you still were able to make sure you didn’t leave a toothbrush or a stray apple watch charger in the hotel room but, miraculously, you find a way to not mention a single thing about your one night stand until you touch down at home; manchester, connecticut.

you tell your friends all about it— probably missing some implied understanding about nda’s— and pretend like it isn’t that big of a deal that one of the biggest basketball players for women’s college wasn’t knuckles deep inside of you only the night before.

but it’s a big deal. and you know it is.

like her breath, fierce and rampant with each spellbinding curl of her fingers, wasn’t startlingly still replaying in your mind, her mouth soaking in each warm, huff of air that you expelled in the form of a moan. like she hadn’t watched as she fucked you, dark eyes somehow impossibly darker as her biceps flexed, the line of thick, corded veins that traveled her muscular arms somehow jumping with each pump of her fingers inside of you.

that the same, somehow blushing girl that stood in the elevator had regarded you like something to be challenged, like something she could fight for. something she could win.

you didn’t forget a single thing. not in the way she leaned down over you as her fingers quickened their pace, the force of it eliciting grunts from caitlin’s mouth as she tore you apart, piece by piece, licking the remains as her teeth grazed over a nipple, the sensitive jut of your collarbone.

“so pretty,” she’d murmured against your skin, almost absently, like she didn’t even realize she’d said it. “you like that?” obviously, it went without saying that you did (very much), but really, you’d learned that she wanted to hear you say it. it was in the same way that - as she’d recounted to you drunkenly in a hotel bar that night - she needed to hear the audience cheer. that the fans hollering and shouting was when she felt like she was on fire. it was the external validation that urged her forth, amped her up, kept her alight.

somehow, you could see exactly how it applied to her then, her eyes quick to scan over your face— your lips, to kiss them, before she’d ask again, urgently, “you like how i fuck you? huh? tell me.”

you’d nodded furiously, words tumbling past your trembling lips, “y-es, fuck, yes—“ god, it would’ve been impossible to pull more than a few words from you with how wrought you are, body unrelentingly tense, shaking and weak until she’d coaxed another orgasm out of you, her name sounding broken on your tongue as her fingers slow, the unrelenting grind from the heel of her hand finally relaxing to ride you through it.

she was unforgivingly good with her fucking hands, you’d come to realize.

and yet, beyond all of that, much to your friends dismay, you don’t call her.

no, in fact, you mute her name on twitter and block the IOWA womens basketball page because it becomes suddenly like a frenzy. she’s everywhere, more than usual, like some sick sign from the universe and as much as it seems almost the complete opposite of how you really feel, you decide that you can never see her again.

it’s not like the sex wasn’t phenomenal, or that when it’s late and your hand sneaks into your pants, your imagination doesn’t always seems to conjure up tall, pretty girls with brown hair and green eyes, or that she didn’t completely captivate you from the moment she’d looked at you, dumbfounded and sheepish in an elevator with a blush staining her cheeks.

it wasn’t that. in fact, it was the complete opposite.

it was because the moment you’d seen a picture of her online after the fact, looking tougher than you knew she was, you’d realized that the last place you’d seen her was from between your legs, and it felt like a fucking soul crush.

because she was beautiful, and smiling, and playing up that celebrity, all-star mentality that you knew she could back up, but that you realized wasn’t her in the slightest. because now, you knew her— sort of— and saw her in ways that nobody else had— that you knew of. more so, that she’d learned your body in the span of a night and then just left, and somehow that just wasn’t fucking fair.

there was a shroud of mystery that surrounded her, even if she belonged to the world, to her supposed boyfriend, to everyone, really— way more than she ever belonged to you, even if just for a night.

so you go on about your life, and you pretend you don’t notice the draft is coming, or that soon, the already well known athlete was gonna be world renowned, taking her biggest leap to play professional, and you’d be nothing to her, nothing but the girl she’d screwed in a hotel room when she’d gotten too drunk after the final four.

and sure, you find solace in it. but there’s also this lingering, nagging feeling of being unfinished, like there’s still more. there has to be more.

so, no, you don’t call her.

but, somehow, you find last-minute tickets for the draft— which, in the grand scheme of things isn’t completely selfish. the moment you’d seen nika muhl and aaliyah edwards up for the league, you’d known that you were going to try for tickets. you just, probably, maybe, weren’t actually expecting to hookup with the projected top number one draft pick, either.

but you did, so, you buy them anyway.

you let your friends tease you for picking a dress that’s sorta slutty and for spending more time than you should doing your makeup at whatever hotel you picked in boston, only a few blocks from the draft.

all in all, it goes exactly how you expect. caitlin gets number one draft, which only slightly makes you antsy in your seat, thinking about the fact that she doesn’t know you’re there, that she doesn’t know you saw her win big and that she possibly could’ve been thinking about anyone fucking else. your favorites, nika muhl and aaliyah edwards, get teams that you’re more than happy to celebrate, and watch paige bueckers and azzi fudd get shoutout after shoutout. it’s good, it’s fun— but fuck it.

you think you miss her. maybe just her fingers, or her mouth, but you realize in a weird swell of recognition as the guests are ushered out, your head spinning back every few moments to see if you can catch a glimpse of her, that you do.

you miss the cait you’d met— you just didn’t know the one that sat in the room now.

then, it’s all sorta funny, in a way, considering the situation you find yourself in once everyone begins to disperse, limos and SUV’s pulled up and parked outside of the venue, crowds of fans standing around the barricades to sit for their favorite athletes to pile out of the doors, to go to some super elite, exclusive party that you knew you had no place at.

you don’t expect any special treatment, and you don’t expect a text or a call— which is good, because they don’t come.

no, actually, they don’t come until later.

later, after you’d spent the rest of the night in a nearby bar with a couple of girls you’d met leaving the draft. they’re funny and they’re nice, gushing about the picks, talking miles a minute about all their favorites and making you pretend that the tequila doesn’t burn just a tiny bit more when they mention caitlin’s name.

it doesn’t come until you’re showered, dressed in sweats and pleasantly drunk, scrolling through the shitty channels when your phone buzzes once, then twice, then three times and it almost makes you click the lock button, shove it over in assumption of your friends bothering you about an unsuccessful night to woo a pro athlete— but then it happens again.

you can’t really decipher what makes you look at the random assortment of numbers and it suddenly click. maybe it was because you’d spent the past few weeks in a complete back and forth, scanning over a crumpled napkin with the name ‘cait’ and these specific numbers beside it.

you know who it is, and despite yourself, your heart catches in your throat.

“hello?”

“you made it.” her voice is deeper than you remember, and it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks burn almost immediately. fuck.

“huh?” you play dumb, mostly because it’s more embarassing to admit that you’d came all this way for this, for the slim possibility that she’d fucking notice.

“tonight, i mean. you- i didn’t know— i didn’t know you were coming.” you stay silent, because what else is there to say? had she seen you?

but she continues, “you should’ve told me.” and then, “i, uh— i would’ve liked to see you.”

she’s pathetic, and so are you. a hand comes up to shove back your hair from your face, breath increasing only slightly. “i have a hotel, like, smack in the middle of boston if you’re… like, if this is an offer.”

now, she’s silent. there’s a shuffle on the other end, a murmur of a voice that you don’t recognize, before she’s back, her voice closer, softer. “yeah. yeah, i’d, uh, i’d like that.”

you open your mouth to say something, probably alcohol fueled and embarassed, but she’s speaking now, a bit quicker, “just text me, yeah?”

then the phone clicks, and for half a second, you stare at the home screen as if this couldn’t possibly be fucking real.

but it is, miraculously, and god, it makes you kind of fucking horny to think that she’s willing to see you at half past three in the morning, so your fingers fly over the keyboard in record time— a pin being dropped through imessage with a confirmed ping.

it’s fucking go time after that.

you find the lacy, practically nonexistent underwear you’d brought, forgo a bra entirely, and try to find something a little less boring than your sweatsuit, before you realize with a sickening realization that the revealing dress you’d worn for the draft was the outfit you’d expected to see her in, and as much as you cared, you kinda fucking didn’t— she’d been inside of you, by now. clothing didn’t seem as pressingly urgent as it would otherwise.

it’s only about twenty minutes before she texts you, a simple ‘here’. you send a brief message, just the number of your hotel room, and pretend like your heart doesn’t practically pound out of your chest for each passing moment, eyes flickering from the door, to the window outside, the city bustling even at a time like this.

she knocks only twice, and it startles you enough that it takes your breath away.

the moment the door swings open, it’s like a wave of calm washes over you, a weird sense of solace that you hadn’t realized she could offer, mostly due to the fact that before you stood the caitlin you’d remembered from all those weeks ago, after final four. not the exquisitely dressed, superstar you’d seen earlier that night, in shades and clothing that you could never afford with an attitude you didn’t recognize.

instead, she stands before you at her startling height, in sneakers, sweats and a windbreaker, a hood over her head and her hands tucked into her pockets. once again, looking impossibly small for someone of her stature and it takes all that’s within you to not kiss her right there.

“you got here quick.” you mention, still only slightly breathless as she offers a smile that resembles more of a smirk than anything else.

“i was scared you’d fall asleep,” and it sounds as sheepish as it makes you feel.

you step back, let her walk in and inhabit the space, only slightly making your palms sweat to have her here, in front of you again.

you decide to take the initiative to plop onto the bed, looking up at her as you toy with a stray string from your hoodie, “i wasn’t gonna fall asleep,” you retort, looking up at her, catching a glance that you don’t break, “congrats on top draft pick.”

now, she’s blushing, shaking her head and pursing her lips, “still feels unreal, dude.” she murmurs, looking down at her feet before slowly, her movements unsure, she sinks onto the bed next to you. “you’re unreal.” you say quietly, smirking at her, because you know how she’d cringe at it, scrunches her face before shaking her head. “god, not by a long shot.”

you open your mouth to say something else, maybe tease her about it, but she clears her throat quietly, “but i don’t, uh- wanna talk about that right now?” she offers a mirthless laugh, “is that stupid?”

she turns to look at you, and it happens to only be a couple centimeters from your face once you look up, shake your head “then we don’t have to.” you agree quietly, and it’s impossible to miss the way her eyes flicker down at your lips, back up to your face, and it’s equally as impossible to ignore the flip you get in your stomach before you surge forward to kiss her.

she kisses the same, tastes like what you remember, if not marked by whatever cocktails she must’ve had, whatever liquor still sat on your own breath, and it washes over you greedily that you do fucking want her— more than whatever you tried to convince yourself of during the past two weeks, more than what you’d downplayed to your friends.

“been thinking about you,” it comes out rushed, murmured against caitlin’s lips, shakily from your own mouth as she lets out a slow, wanton breath. you turn to crawl up on your knees, swinging over her hips to push her back against the bed.

she makes a noise like it stems from disbelief, almost like denial, but doesn’t pull away, not even once as her hands, fingers long and palms wide, spread beneath your sweatshirt, span across the expanse of your back and grasp.

“i did,” you insist between breathless kisses, foreheads pressed together hard as her hand races up the front now, over your stomach, palm your breasts and elicit a pitchy gasp from the immediate contact of her cold hands to your sensitive nipples, “every fucking day.”

“shut up,” she denies it again, which only slightly irks you because as cliche as it felt to say during a makeout, it’s not like you would lie about how much you’ve craved this— or more specifically, her.

you try to really expand on the thought, but it becomes almost impossible when her lips attach to your jaw, suckling until her teeth are teasing the sensitive, thin skin beneath your ear, and you make a noise too embarrassing to recount before you can gather your words. “…missed you.”

caitlin makes a noise in her own throat, something between a growl and a groan as she arches her hips up slightly to press against you, before she shakes her head, pulling back only to look up at you from your position on her lap with this sick, almost torturous gaze. her eyes are lidded and feverbright, cheeks pink, and lips glossy, kiss-bitten.

“you shouldn’t think about me.” it comes out quick with her breath, her thumbs still slow in the circles they rubbed around your nipples, making your head arch back with a whimper before you swallow hard, her words almost too quiet to hear, “not worth it to think about.”

the admission surprises you, “fuck off, clark.” you snort, the words fall lazily out of your mouth, “so humble, huh?”

she gets hot at that, and you can tell from the way her face is pressed into your neck, the way a heat radiates from her cheeks right at that moment that makes your stomach swirl, your own hands coming up to tangle into her hair.

“…i‘m serious.” she insists, still mouthing against the same area of skin that you knew would be bruised, and pretend like her totally incognito, self deprecative words weren’t somewhat confusing and worrying you.

she was fucking perfect, didn’t she realize that? how could she not when practically everyone else in the world thought the same? maybe you were being dramatic or maybe you were just horny, but it felt achingly real in the moment that she knew that, even if she wouldn't listen, even if you'd have to show her instead.

“cait, i’m fucking serious.” you counter now, using the hands in her hair to tug, exploring the reaction that it elicits, which is something that apparently caitlin enjoys by the soft whine that jumps from her throat, the way her breath quickens, the wide eyed look she gives you.

it makes your head spin, your thighs clench involuntarily. she seems so fucking innocent, and yet, all knowing at the same time.

“is that… bad?” you continue, your own head ducking to latch your lips against her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath your teeth, “that i… touched myself and thought of you?” maybe it was the cocktails or the fact that this could be the last fucking time you see her, but it’s like word vomit— every thought and emotion that comes to you is spoken without hesitation, and apart of you wonders where you’d gotten such newfound bravery.

caitlin must be wondering too.

“not bad,” it comes out of her weak, weaker than she is right now, melting under your mouth and the tight grasp you have on her dark hair, the way each strand twines around your fingers to where even the most minuscule move of your fingers elicit a huff or a sigh, “it’s… fucking hot, what the fuck.”

it fuels you, in some way, to hear her validation. for some reason, you don’t try to hold off much longer— your own sweatshirt is being pulled off in record time, tangled in your arms momentarily and flung across the room as you go to reach for hers, “off?” you hum in the midst of the movement, to which she nods, quickly, obedient and yet, so unruly.

she was a dichotomy of everything she stood for. a shy girl pretending to be a superstar, and yet, even in moments like this, quiet and intimate, it felt like a superstar pretending to be shy. you knew just how easily she could unload, dominate the situation— pin you down by your wrists and eat you out within an inch of your life, because she had.

but now, she’s relenting, and it makes something within you burn, strengthening wildly to try and tame that beast that you knew sat fervent beneath her skin, to try and prove that caitlin didn’t always have to be caitlin clark, she could just be this.

just a pretty girl you wanted to fuck.

besides, maybe you were making up for lost time, returning favors you’d been too drunk and blissed out to give the first time around when she’d finished you off with fucking ease.

as soon as she’s exposed, her black sports bra yanked off with little effort to reveal her breasts beneath, pale and dotted with freckles, a red line from the band of it standing starkly against it, you find your mouth lowering to suckle on a spot near her nipple, teasing against the bud and licking gently at the skin until you hear her breath increase, breaking only slightly into a whine that makes you swallow hard.

you pull away, just to look at her— dark eyebrows furrowed, focused in a concentration that you can only discern as someone fighting for the need to control, to dictate, to display the same use of her strategic authority that she’s used time and time again on the court.

you decide in that moment, that you won’t let her.

“let me take care of you?” it comes out softer than you mean it to, and you can see the trust building within her, slow to register as safe— and you don’t blame her.

you both are practically strangers, knowing nothing of each other than drunken conversation that had turned too deep, nothing but the sound the other made when they came, the faces they made. it was intimately unfamiliar, and perhaps that’s where caitlin had found the solace.

maybe she knew that at this point in her career she wouldn’t have normalcy. it was practically impossible for any person knowledgeable in sports to not know her, or even just of her. to a further degree, even most, with the exception of being well versed in women’s sports, had at least heard of her, and that was simply a piece of herself that had been taken, one she’d never be able to retrieve.

but this, this might be the one standing, single piece of lucidity and realness that was hers— locked away in a hotel room in a city unfamiliar to the both of you, and it’s enough.

it’s enough for now.

“you wouldn’t even text me back.” she counters, but it’s clear in her tone, regardless of how ragged, that it’s to prod at you, and it works.

“shut up.” you murmur as you press your hands to her shoulders, push her back against the bed to straddle her fully as you brush your thumb over her abused nipple, reddened and too easy to bruise. she moans when you press on it, and it elicits a smirk to your face that’s impossible to hide. “you’re here now, aren’t you?”

for some reason, it causes a sad sort of smirk to her face that’s impossible to miss, regardless of how quickly she covers it with an exhale of want, one that you know isn’t feigned, “where else would i be?”

there’s a million answers to that. press, interviews, sleeping, with her fucking boyfriend, but you settle for a small smile, “good point.”

you hope it centers her a little when the bruising press of your fingers translate into something gentler, more of a caress against her chest that you trail up to her face, and it almost twists something inside of you to see the way her face relaxes, leans against it as if it was some type of treatment or medicine to some ailment you weren’t aware of.

you go to pull away, to begin working at the ties on her sweatpants to unwravel her even more, lost in the softness of the moment and yet still blinded by the hazy lust until she speaks, quiet and barely there.

“did you really think about me?”

it stuns you for half a second, because the simple confession hadn’t registered to you as something she’d recall, something she’d look to expand upon.

but you’d always been honest, brutally so.

“yeah,” you say it as if it was obvious, when truly it wasn’t, and more so, probably wasn’t reciprocated, “i had fun,” a gross understatement, a weak replacement for all that you really wanted to say. then, if not a bit more revealing of your inner voice, “didn’t you?”

caitlin makes a noise that resembles a huff, but it’s not impatient, it’s honest. you wonder how often she gets to do that. “you know i did.” it comes out like an admission of guilt, under her breath, yet her eyes are unrelenting as they are sincere and it makes your eyebrows lift.

it makes your breath halt slightly, “is… not having fun in your contract or something?” you lace it with a quiet chuckle, mostly because you don’t want to make it too deep, too revealing to ask, but part of you thinks it’s expanded beyond that already, had been since she'd called you at three in the morning, just to say that she'd seen you, that she wanted to see you again.

her hands rise from her sides to rest against your thighs, and the touch is welcome, one that you relax into before she manages a half smile, “might as well be.”

but then, you see that surge of confidence again, something in her eyes glimmering as she squeezes at the skin of your thighs, hard, but your eyes remain fixed, even as hers drop, almost shy in her show of strength. “it’s why… i’ve thought about you like, everyday since... final four?”

that certainly makes your breath halt, invoking a reaction in your stomach and between your legs that you choose to ignore as you swallow, thumb still slow in its brush against her cheek.

“yeah?” it comes out of you rough, and she grants you with a nod as a response, then, after only a moment, she whispers, an echo to your words from before. “so... is it bad that i missed you too?”

“god, shut up.” you repeat again, as if somehow that was a valid response to being told such a thing by a girl you’d only had met twice, by a girl you knew nothing about.

you wanna ask her a million questions, know anything and everything: ask her if she’s actually into girls, if she’s actually into her boyfriend. mainly, if she’s actually into this pedestal that she’d been thrust into, if the fame was too much, maybe if it was never enough.

but you settle for shutting her up for now, because you can see the way her chest rises and falls rapidly, can hear the strain that it took to admit, and you realize, selflessly, that maybe you won’t let yourself ask for more.

not now, anyway.

instead, you lean up, uncharacteristically tender as you slide your lips against hers, feels the way she relents against you, slow and subservient.

“can i show you how bad i missed you?” your fingers tease the edge of her sweatpants, and she lets out a creaking groan, head tilting back and eyes closing as if in exasperation, before she nods. “please.”

you get right to work.

it takes only a little bit of adjustment to get her pants off of her long legs, to reveal the simple pair of black boy shorts that she wore, before you can finally tease a finger against the soaked fabric, reveling in the wetness that you knew matched your own.

her hips jump up, caged in only by your legs as you arch your middle finger, riding the knuckle against her heat, watching the way her face twists only slightly, lips parted in silent noises that you wish you could beckon out of her.

it is fun, you realize in the back of your mind, to pull her apart like this. without the inebriation clouding your mind from the last time, you feel almost startlingly cognizant of your own movements, of her reactions.

when you finally pump your middle finger into her, you notice the way her stomach and abs flex involuntarily, the way her voice pitches up and almost keens in her throat, catching with every stuttered inhale.

when you lean down to press your lips against the slickness of her cunt, press the pad of your tongue to her clit, she says your name— loud. it’s something mixed between a whine and a plead, long, dexterous fingers tangling into your hair and holding on tight.

you devour her, tongue slow to slide against her slick folds, to feel the surge of wetness spill out around your fingers, mixed with your own saliva. you drink her in like she’s a potion, or an elixir, something that you swear you can find and savor if you just go deeper, harder.

it isn’t until you feel her thighs tense, clamping around your head as she lets out a sound close to a gasping breath, marked with a moan that makes your head spin— she sounds so fucking desperate, and you’re bound and determined to give her exactly what she wants. what she deserves, really.

she comes on your fingers, in your mouth, and you relish every bit of it, quick to clean up the excess with fervor. she’s sensitive still, her breath huffing out whenever you breach too close to her clit, but you’re gentle. that’s what this was all about, right?

it’s quiet after the storm, your wrist sore and mouth wet as you sit up a bit, eyes careful to observe how hard her chest rises and falls. the way her hair, having fallen from its loose bun, sat in messy waves around her face, nothing like the impeccably straightened strands you’d seen at the draft, and it sort of makes you smile in an off handed way that you can’t explain, especially not when she opens her eyes finally to look at you.

“quit.” she says, and there’s a smile, tired and breathless, teasing at her own mouth as the hand that had fisted your tangled locks finally released, dragging down the side of your head to push your chin away lightly,

you can’t help but snicker, raising a brow, “what?” she rolls her eyes, and you repeat yourself, this time with a snort, “sorry, you’re just— you just look pretty like this.”

it’s hard to pretend that something inside of you doesn’t wince when her smile drops slightly, and you pretend like it isn’t uncommon to compliment the stranger you just ate out with such sincerity and honesty.

she’s slow when she says it, “...you always look pretty.” and it sounds wistful, murmured in a way that you can’t help but flush a bit at, as you roll your eyes now as if to return the favor, “you’ve only seen me twice, drunk, in sweats.”

but for some reason, that makes her smile return and for half a second, you let yourself pretend.

that maybe, this random series of hookups between you two weren’t fueled by some weird attraction slash escapism slash secret infidelity that had to be shared between you, or tucked away from the world. for half a second, she wasn’t caitlin clark, women’s basketball superstar, future member of the indiana fever.

she was cait, a girl you’d met at a bar that you’d hooked up with who just happened to see you again, and maybe, if you were a little dumber, and maybe a bit drunker, you’d admit to yourself that there’s a part of you that likes her, and each time you’d thought about her in the past few weeks, it had become achingly apparent.

but, you’re smarter than that, and definitely not drunk enough, so you pretend that her next words don’t make your heart skip multiple beats, as if it doesn’t cause a flutter in your chest.

“still,” she scoffs, and she’s sitting up a little, her hand having laid lazily against her stomach, reaches over to grasp your wrist, almost absently, “plus, i saw you earlier tonight, in that dress?”

it shouldn’t make you almost stunned into silence, but it fucking does.

“sorry— not to like, be weird and say i was looking for you but, i dunno, i just— i remember you saying something about UCONN, so i just assumed you'd be ther—“

you’re kissing her before even you can register what she’s saying, or why she says it all in this shy, almost sheepish tone that fills you with a flood of endorphins, butterflies being set alight inside of you.

“god, you’re so…” you’re not sure where you’re going with it, but you can’t help the way your hand comes up to hold the side of her face, dip your thumb against her bottom lip as if to make her taste herself, all as your eyes watched, lidded and fixed.

then, you exhale, only a whisper, “i’m gonna get you in trouble.” you manage to say, despite the very obvious fact that watching her suck on your finger is doing unspeakable things to you, before you drag the wet digit out, her bottom lip pulling only slightly.

“with who?” she says it almost as if you both know the answer, both thinking about the multitude of bigger names and bigger people who had long since been the determinant in caitlin’s career— at least from the little that you knew— and it lapses you both in a measured silence.

until she speaks, and it’s quiet, and sincere. “you’re just like… the only thing in my life right now that has nothing to do with basketball.”

it's a compliment, wrapped up in something a lot more sad, a lot more sincere. it shouldn’t make you want to hug her, but it does, so, you do.

your arms twine around her neck slowly, your face lowering to bury against her neck, just beneath her chin, and you can feel her chest vibrate slightly with a chuckle or a laugh, before her arms are around you, squeezing you tight, “don’t go all sappy on me, dude.” she murmurs, but it’s present in the way she doesn’t pull from it, or really, the way she fucking clutches onto you, almost desperately, that you pretend once again that this doesn’t mean anything. that this is traditional, hookup behavior, and that once she leaves this hotel room, everything will shift right back into place.

a place where caitlin clark gets to be caitlin clark and you get to be you, and there’s no overlap.

except, that doesn’t happen.

no, instead, once you pull away from the hug she kisses you again, hungrier this time, her hands sliding from your back to your hips so she can hook fingers in the edge of your panties, urging you to sit up on your knees so she can pull them down.

instead, she lets you ride her thigh— both hands firm and strong, her own biceps lfexing to keep you glued to her thick, muscle corded thigh, your cunt unforgivably wet as she dragged your hips down, over and over.

your head tips forward to press to her forehead, and she kisses you through each desperate cry that escapes your lips, the friction and slide becoming wetter, slicker by the moment, drawing these high pitched noises from your throat that you know caitlin is drinking in, all while she murmurs to you in this soft little voice, “show me good it feels, lemme hear you.”

in the end, you both pass out there, somewhat in a laying position as caitlin lays on her back, arms loosely wrapped around you, who’s laying stomach down atop of her, a thigh lazily hiked up to hang against her hip, your face pressed into her neck.

it’s fucking bizarre when you think about it.

how you both had talked more than you ever had before, and when you look back on it in the morning, nothing but a ghostly reminder of her presence by the sheets that lay strewn about, the undeniable smell of sex and sweat that still hung in the air, you pretend like you don’t realize just how little you still knew about her, and just how much that you wished you knew.

you also pretend like you don’t miss her, or that when you’re gathering your clothes to check out, a soreness in your body unlike one you’ve really ever felt, you’re practically stunned to see her faded, gray, IOWA shirt, thrown lazily over the desk chair that makes you wonder just how accidental it was for her to leave it.

you wear it anyway,

it isn’t until you make it back to connecticut, making up some excuse for your friends as to how you hadn’t been able to meet up with caitlin, how she’d been too busy anyway and you’d spent the night drinking at a bar, that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that wanted to keep her protected, confidential.

maybe it was the post-sex fueled lust that wanted you to keep it close to your chest, a dirty secret only for you to enjoy, or maybe it came from somewhere softer, somewhere that remembered how caitlin had such little privacy, that it almost hits you like a pang just how much you wanted her to still have that, even if it was at the expense of not seeing your friends faces when you told them that you guys had hooked up, again. even if she'd never know that you didn't say a word.

fuck it. it’s the least you could do.

you try not to think about her for days really, not until you’re doing laundry and come across the grey t-shirt, deciding only then that you’d pull up your goddamn bootstraps and finally send a message.

it’s cheeky, the wrinkled t-shirt thrown on over your underwear, leaving your thighs on display and the peek of a hip that you know is intentional before you snap a picture, sending it with little hesitation, and subsequently throwing your phone afterwards at the bed.

“you left something”

cc loved your message, “you left something”

“i know”

“guess i’ll have to come get it back”

it’s stupid, you know it is, but it makes you smile, typing with an urgency only known when texting back the pretty girl you like, before you send it, bottom lip teased between your teeth.

“how close are you to connecticut?”

[soobnny]

classmate au | sim jake

❝ i’m sorry we only got 26/30 on this worksheet ❞

heeseung | jay | JAKE | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

jake…

oh jake.

student athlete and math genius jake

you’re in the same class but he feels so far because he hangs out with his rly pretty friends

u can only look from afar

he’s always a tiny bit late to class

always drawing attention to his pretty boy face 😞

at 7:30, the bell rings and classes start

at 7:31, jake walks into class late

but the teachers always give him a pass bc how could they not when he smiles at them like that and apologizes like that

even ur teachers are down bad

he probably becomes your class representative for that one strict teacher’s class bc they always have a soft spot for jake

u want the deadline of the homework extended? ask jake to message them

he sits in the middle seats

not too prim and punctual to be at the front

but still likes school enough not to completely goof around at the back

sometimes your math teacher lets you do quizzes and worksheets by pair

(it’s the only way some of you can get a passing grade)

by statistics and some type of sampling, you end up getting partnered up with jake

“hi, good morning,” he’d greet with his infamous smile

now you get why all the teachers swoon for him

he’s so cute. this is going to be a problem

this is going to be a BIG problem

you were already bad at math, and now there’s a big pretty distraction sitting next to you

though, tbh, you were also relieved when you heard your name with his bc he’s ltrly known as a math genius

he’s one of the students that teachers excuse for their math contests

and wait 😭 did he just say something to u? did he ask about a formula bc u honestly have no clue

“(name)?” he’d shake your shoulder gently and it’s enough to bring you back on earth

“sorry, did you ask something?”

“oh, i’m done … if u wanted to compare answers? or if u trust me enough?”

you trust him enough

he’s ltrly THE carry

jake will speedrun differential calculus like he’s writing the alphabet

uh oh.

why does he look so HOT with his pencil and the way he writes numbers

you’re going insane

you should never be paired with jake ever again

but by some twist of fate, you always end up as jake’s partner in numerous activities

lab work and experiments and communication reports?

“jake and (name),” the teacher would announce

ofc… typical of friends, they HAVE to push you around as you walk to your seat beside jake’s

while you’re of great help with anything else, you’re starting to feel bad about his literal carry in math tho

“are you sure it’s ok? i’m just rly horrible i’m sorry,” you’d apologize

he would just laugh and dismiss your concerns

“nooo, it’s okay. i’m fine! i can tell you didn’t get enough sleep last night”

(you spent the night binging a new show that came out)

your stomach doesn’t feel so good after that one.

who gave him the right to NOTICE things now???

when your teacher returns your paired worksheets, he has the GALL to apologize

a big fat 29/30 will be written on top and he’d say “oh i’m sorry we had one mistake 😕” like BOY SHUT UP !!!!

after your partner shenanigans, you’d start talking more in the classroom

he’d give u a fist bump if u bumped into each other in the hallways while walking with ur respective friend groups

sometimes even shout your name to get your attention only to wave at you

“why are you smiling like that?,” sunghoon would ask accusingly

and you know what? jake has no shame

“(name). she’s pretty cute, no?”

BYE absolutely no shame

so now, when he speedruns an activity, you’ll find him hovering around you until he starts to make conversation

if the teacher leaves early ?? suddenly he’s transported to the seat next to yours and flirting

being friends with jake is chaotic…. bc that would automatically mean being friends with HIS loud ass friends

pretty friends have upgraded to pretty LOUD friends

they’re so annoying too

“jake and (name), can you buy us water?”, heeseung would ask

WHY R U BUYING WATER FOR HEESEUNG

but jake’s already taking your hand and dragging you away bc he will take every opportunity to hang out with you alone

BTW computer science god idk i just got the vibes

during valentines that year, he codes you a little website please end me

mind you, you aren’t even together yet

he just codes for you as a friend 😂😂😂 as if anyone’s believing that

oh and he also avails those anonymous services so you’ll just be receiving flowers from the student council throughout the day

“oooooh, who are those from,” he would be smiling like it’d be so painfully obvious it’s from him

“do you like them?” NOOOOOOO he just wants to know ok!!! tell him you love them please

OK back to normal no more valentines

when class dismisses, you’d find him lounging around the basketball court with heeseung

sweaty….. wet hair…. oh dear

jake is a sight to see when he’s playing basketball

u usually sit at the bleachers anyway bc ur friends enjoyed watching

he is SOOOOO annoying esp now that you’ve grown closer over the months

he’d make stupid plays and draw attention to you 100%

“if i get this shot in, will you go on a date with me?”

cue the screams and the teasing and the fake vomiting as you’re pushed around

OFC he makes the shot

he’s sim jake, math genius AND student athlete

“so, tomorrow after class?”

“huh?? i thought you were joking??”

“what? no! have i not been obvious? i ltrly flirt with you evry chance i get??”

“well… idk! maybe you do that with everyone!”

“only you”

OK WISH I WERE YOU THEN 😒😒😒😒😒

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[bunnyreaper]

oh can we pleaseeee talk about forced breeding with johnny 🙏🏻🙏🏻

im imagining such a manipulative best friend soap here, who can talk his way into anything.

like you two are super close, you share everything, which is why he feels comfortable complaining about the fact that he hasn't gotten laid in forever. and at first it's just a one off comment, but then he keeps fucking whining about it, to the point where you offer to help him get off just to get him to shut up!! but you tell him straight up, no sex.

so he comes to your room late at night, in a tight shirt and grey sweatpants that he's definitely wearing too low on his hips, bcs he's clearly trying to tempt you. you let him in and decide to offer him a blowjob, which he eagerly accepts cooing about how you're the best friend a guy could ask for.

he pulls down the sweatpants as he sits on his bed, and you kneel before him surprised by the size of his cock that's already hard for you. he lets you ease in at first, as you stroke him slowly before going in with little licks and gentle sucks, but after a while his hips start to buck, his hand comes to the back of your head to hold you in place as his pace increases.

he pulls you off of him with a pleasured hiss, diving in to kiss you senseless (not something you discussed but any protests are silenced by his mouth as his tongue slips inside. then he begs and whines some more. "lemme fuck yer thighs, yeah? please lass?"

the puppy dog eyes and the desperation in your friends voice does you in, as you pull off your own sweatpants and lay on the bed for johnny to start thrusting into your thighs. his grin is ridiculously satisfied as his precum smears all over your thighs, sticky and viscous and making him moan. honestly, you get a little lost in the blissed out look on his face--the fact he's feeling that just from pushing inbetween your thighs. and you're only human, even if johnny is just a friend, the sensation of him rubbing against you is filling you with need.

johnny must be able to sense it, as he angles his hips to push his cock past your panties and through you folds, making you moan involuntarily. "jus' wanted to see if you wet wet, nothin' more, promise." he whines as he starts to rut into your soaking folds, his hips moving wildly.

and then he's stopping, peeling off your panties and putting himself back between your thighs. "just the tip, yeah?" he pants. "johnny, no." you huff, but it's getting harder to resist as his cock head nudges against your clit over and over again. "please, just the tip, 's nothin'" as if sensing your impending defeat, he slides in anyway just the tip as he shallowly fucks you open for just a few strokes...

before he plunges in, hard and deep as he repositions you, throwing your legs over your shoulders as he presses you to the mattress and presses his forehead to yours. "feels too good, bonnie, and you were fuckin' swallowin' me, your pretty little pussy wanted me so bad. couldn't resist." he groans wildly as he fucks you recklessly, forcing moan after moan out of you as his cock strokes your insides fucking perfectly. you find it hard to recall why you ever said no in the first place, until johnny's rhythm goes, and his groans grow deeper and deeper.

"johnny, you gotta pull out, i haven't taken my pill--" you try to plead with him, to reason with him through the feral look on his face, but nothing seems to work, even as you weakly push at his chest. you try to use your legs, but as you reposition to get better leverage he starts hitting deeper, fucking away your resistance with every thrust, and you find your legs clinging to him just for some support.

"aww fuck am gonna cum bonnie, gonna fill you full, gonna--" he comes with a shout, cock slamming into your cervix as he floods you with pump after pump of cum. "ha, knew yer wanted it, could feel you milk me, squeezin' out every last drop."

he collapses on top of you, not letting you squirm away from where his length plugs your hole with all his hot cum inside. "feel so much better lass, thanks for letting me breed that little cunt o' yours. yer too good to me."