#instead of saying it out loud over and over

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (coming soon)

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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[cowgirlvi]

mdni. sub-bottom jinx. fem-top reader. fingering. oral. vaginal sex. strap-on usage. size kink. squirting. sorta loss of virginity. doggystyle.

wc; 2,245

thinking about how immensely tight jinx’s pussy is. you two have already fooled around many, many times before. of course, you started with some heavy-petting and deep kisses. then the two of you discovered the beauty of oral sex. after that, you incorporated some rough and fast tribbing into your nightly routine— which was a slippery, heavenly mess.

(you suspect jinx has the wettest pussy you’ve ever seen).

the only issue the two of you were facing was how tight her hole is. you could slowly ease one of your fingers inside her, but she would tremble and whine the entire time like she was taking someone’s cock. adding a second finger was a little bit of a challenge, and it took you kitten-licking her clit until she loosened up enough. sinking a third finger inside her was out of the question; it seemed impossible.

her pussy was always completely drenched when you two had sex, so you knew it wasn’t an issue of whether or not she was turned on. the only explanation you could think of was that her pussy is just naturally tighter than the average cunt.

you told jinx that it was okay, that you didn’t have to penetrate her if she didn’t want it, that lots of women preferred clitoral stimulation instead, but she had quickly assured you that she wanted it very much. and if jinx wanted something, she was determined to have it.

which led you to this moment, with jinx face down on your shared bed, a towel underneath her body while her peachy ass is wiggling in the air, moaning as you finally managed to stuff two fingers inside her pussy. you’re wearing a leather harness with a bright pink dildo attached, which jinx has been wanting to try out since forever.

”mmffgh! yes, oh— fuck!” jinx is mewling noisily, and you doubt she’s noticed that she’s desperately riding your fingers, too drunk on the feeling of having something inside her little pussy. it’s all so incredibly lewd, hypnotizing. then, she reaches back blindly until her small hand grasps onto your strap. “put it in, please, please.”

”not yet,” you say distractedly. “i want to get three fingers inside you first.”

goosebumps decorate her skin as she quivers and moans into the baby pink bedsheets. she’s always been a squirmy little thing; especially when she’s having her pussy played with, the little minx. your own cunt is clenching and throbbing at the sight.

her hole is squelching obscenely, her juices having nowhere else to go but down her thighs. her cunt is tight around you, squeezing you like she’s trying to cut off your fingers and keep them inside her forever. you know she wouldn’t mind; her hole is tiny but it’s always been greedy for anything it can get.

she’s whining mindlessly, “ahh— fuck, fuuuck!” and you stuff your fingers inside her to the brim, scissoring her open, her sticky cream overflowing around the digits. the walls of her pussy feel soft and gummy.

”are you ready, sweetheart? i’m gonna try to put in another one,” you say, tracing your ring finger around around the edge of her hole. she flinches like you tickled her. every inch of skin around her pussy is so incredibly sensitive and receptive to your touch.

”do it, do it, you’re so slow— god, you take fucking forever, i— unghh!” you smack her ass before she can finish her sentence, her cheek blooming with a red handprint. you admire the way jinx’s pussy physically jolts with the sudden pain, feeling how powerfully she clenches around your fingers. you lean down and bite at her tender skin, sucking a purple mark onto her ass with a loud, wet, smooching noise, tonguing over it to soothe the sting.

”be good,” you say. you love knowing that you’re the one dictating every second of the pleasure she’s receiving, that she’s on the verge of tears and it’s all because of you. “i know it’s hard for you, isn’t it? your hole is just so hungry,” you coo sympathetically.

”yes, yes, i need— i need your cock inside my pussy, uuuh—!”

you lick down her thighs until you’re sucking on her clit from the back, swirling your tongue gently because she’s already so overwhelmed. jinx lets out a strangled cry as she feels you slowly ease a third finger inside her tight little cunt, stretching her further than she’s ever been stretched before. her back arches off the bed, pressing her ass higher into the air, and you kneed the plump muscle with your other hand.

her hips twitch and grind against you. your fingers are beginning to prune with how utterly soaked she is. she’s so tight it’s hard for you to move, but you manage anyway as you slowly start to pump your fingers in and out of her loud cunt, scissoring them open with every thrust. you’re kissing her clit, mildly nipping on the small bud with your teeth and providing soothing kitten-licks. jinx’s head thrashes from side to side, her spine wiggling, back arching, as if she’s unsure whether she wants your fingers deeper inside her or your lips to suck on her harder.

her clit is twitching, it’s throbbing— you can feel it on your tongue. she’s a vision, stuffed full of three of your digits and shaking like a leaf. you barely curl your fingers inside her fluttering walls before she comes, letting out a startled squeal while her juices gushes out from her sensitive pussy. she’s squirting like a fountain, enough to fill a shot glass with her arousal. “nghhh— oh, shit!”

”shh, you’re okay, baby,” you say, still curling your fingers while she rides out her orgasm and rubbing circles on her ass. “you’re so cute.”

she’s panting like a dog. you can feel the heat radiating off her typically-cold skin, can see the way her body glistens with a sheen of sweat. you move your head to run your tongue along the curve of her spine, tasting the salt and uniquely intoxicating flavor that is jinx. it mixes in your mouth with the aftertaste of her wet clit.

jinx is barely lucid, her thighs twitching and shivering. you trace your nails along her skin while she calms down her racing heart. peppering kisses along her heart-shaped ass, you say, “are you ready now, honey?” you want to fuck her open while she’s still loose and relaxed.

she nods from where her face is shoved against your bedsheets, raising up onto her forearms like she was earlier. she glances over her shoulder at you and, god, she looks like she belongs in a dirty magazine; her skin is smooth and flushed, her small tits look so squeezable, her pigtail braids are the perfect handlebars, her ass is perked up in the air, and she looks at you from underneath her eyelashes.

jinx is pure sin.

“just relax, baby. don’t get up,” you tell her and press your palm to the middle of her back. she follows your instructions, letting her upper body rest against the mattress with a relaxed sigh. her ass is still presented high up in the air and she’s arched sharply, her stretched hole on display and drenched in her own arousal.

you grab the bottle of lube that’s about to fall off the edge of the bed and squirt a substantial amount onto your strap. despite how immensely wet jinx’s pussy always is, you think using a bit of lube would still benefit her.

you massage the lube down your strap like you’re jacking off a real cock and then line the head up with jinx’s tiny hole. your cock is slathered in lube, her pussy is drowning in wetness, and the tip almost slips inside before jinx is flinching away with a keen.

“mmm, your pussy is so sensitive,” you comment hotly. grabbing onto one of her wide hips, you line the head up again and try to push it inside. jinx is still squirming like a worm the entire time. you love how over-sensitive her cunt is, how she’s trying to shy away from the thick head of your strap. “stay still. do you want my cock or not?”

”i want it— mmmff,” she whimpers, her voice hoarse, and the words are barely out of her mouth before you’re surging forward again, the tip squelching obscenely against her tiny hole. you grind your hips in slow, sensual circles, easing part of the wide girth inside her.

“take my dick, baby. yeahh, you’re doing so good.”

arousal and lube are overflowing from her pussy like a waterfall. your own wetness is dripping down your thighs and you wish you could feel jinx’s pussy for real, feel her powerful contractions, the way her cunt is flinching as she struggles to take you, massaging your cock. 

”i can’t, i can’t—“ jinx is actually sobbing now, trembling like she’s out in the cold. “uhhh!”

”you can. it’s almost in, sweetheart,” you say encouragingly. the head of the strap is only about two inches long; the difficult part is the girth and trying to fit it inside jinx’s tiny body.

and maybe you should’ve purchased a smaller dildo, but jinx wanted this one in specific. mainly because it’s pink, but also because she was determined to prove you wrong, to show you that she can take anything you give her and she’ll like it; she doesn’t need nor want things to be easy for her.

the head finally pops inside entirely, making jinx gasp like a wounded soldier. her pink eyes look at you from over her shoulder, and they’re filled with unshed tears, they’re hazy; completely overwhelmed and dumbfounded at the width. her candy-red bottom lip is caught between her teeth, sucking bruises into the skin.

“fuuck, look at this little hole,” you say to yourself. her cunt molds perfectly to the head of your cock. “talk to me, honey. tell me what, hah, what i’m doing to you.”

”y-you’re inside me . . . oh, fuck, fuck— ngh!” jinx sobs wetly and sniffles. her ass is shaking, rippling as she flinches away from your cock but also tries to fit more of it inside her. she’s always been an indecisive little thing. “your cock is— mmf—! inside my pussy, uuh!”

”you must feel so full,” you say sympathetically, rubbing soothing circles into her hips. her gummy walls are strangling your cock, not wanting you to leave. “i can see you gripping onto me, baby, fuck—“

it’s like her body knows that it needs to keep your strap plugged up inside her, that her cunt needs to be stuffed-full at all times.

and it’s nasty, so dirty and lewd the way the tip of your strap is slipping in and out of her pussy with obscene squelching noises. the back of jinx’s neck is flushed red— the tips of her ears too— and you suspect she’s very aware of how loud her pussy is being.

”imagine what it would, hah, feel like if you took my entire cock, sweetheart. think about how full you’d be,” you say.

”no— i can’t, i can’t, i’ll die!” even as jinx shakes her head and whimpers out desperate protests, her body tells a different story. her cunt clamps down like a vice around your slippery strap, the velvety walls rippling and grasping onto you, trying to suck your thick cock deeper inside. it’s as if jinx’s hungry hole has a mind of its own, craving the sensation of being utterly stuffed and filled to the brim, no matter how much her mind might resist.

her body is betraying her; revealing the dark, dirty truth of what she really needs. and you’re well aware of this too, but you both know she won’t be taking your entire cock today— not with how much she’s trembling just from taking the tip. 

you slide your hands up her back, over the blue clouds on her shoulder, and then reach underneath her body, groping her perky tits. the little mounds are so delicate— incredibly responsive— and they fit perfectly in your hands. your fingers sink into the soft, pliant flesh— kneading and groping— rolling the pebbled nipples between your fingers. her nipples stiffen and strain against your fingertips, the sensitive peaks throbbing with a need that mirrors the desperate, greedy ache in jinx’s core.

upon pinching her nipples between your two fingers, jinx flinches uncontrollably, resulting in another thick inch of your cock accidentally slipping inside her. and that’s what sends her over the edge, the feeling of her walls being split open further, how she’s forced to conform to your strap.

she’s moaning whorishly, letting everyone in your apartment building know that she’s getting fucked, that her pussy is taking cock for the very first time. she can't contain the desperate, wanton sounds from escaping her lips, the consequence of being fucked stupid on your shaft. and her juices are positively gushing around you, dripping down the silicone balls of your strap and her own thighs. 

her nails are scrabbling at the sheets for purchase as she bucks and writhes beneath you. crying, crying, crying, that’s all she can do, until she finally collapses against the soaked towel beneath her, laying in a puddle of her own juices.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0, @marieeeluvsyou, @mxchi-mxxn, @el-amor-que-tu-quieres, @jinxvex, @mwahbabe, @teddybearbutch28, @stupendousbananasharkcop, @nahcala

(2/6/25)

[karthara]

My Aunt Mary(deceased) and Uncle Francis(still living) took amazing wildlife photography. My Auntie Bunny was always well put together and graceful even when she had tremors in her hands though of her husband Ed I only remember getting yelled at for playing too rambunctiously with my cousins at his funeral and a faint memory of him speaking to me in another language that he told the rest of my family I understood even though I'm pretty sure I just followed context clues and payed attention. I don't remember his face. My great grandmother Pearl loved crochet and any time someone would visit her she would gift them christmas ornaments where she crocheted lacy patterns over cheap coloured balls. It was a shocking delight to see her smack my dad up the backside of his head for saying something mean once when up to that point in my life no one really told him off when he was being a jerk.

Then again I have family that lives into their 80s and 90s and a few that passed 100. Seeing the letter from the queen at Grandma Ferns(I think she was Pearls sister but people called her Grandma instead of aunt) birthday was pretty cool.

My grandparents kept a photo of my grandpas brother who died in ww2 in the guest bedroom with his medals. As his body was never recovered I eventually realized my grandpa was keeping the room for someone who would never return though no one would ever say it out loud. I never met him living but he was still a firm memory as us kids spent many a christmas with him watching over us.

"in your life" meaning you met them enough times and substantially enough to remember them. and not just consider them some faceless, theoretical stranger.

[heeluvv]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ᡣ𐭩

pairing ‹𝟹 shy! sim jaeyun x reader

genre ‹𝟹 smut

warnings ‹𝟹 blowjob, sub! jake, praise kink, overstimulation, etc.

natty's notes ‹𝟹 mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the first time you find one, it’s slipped between the pages of your notebook, tucked so carefully that it could have easily gone unnoticed. a small, folded piece of paper, slightly crinkled at the edges, as if whoever wrote it had second-guessed themselves a dozen times before finally mustering the courage to leave it there.

your fingers tremble slightly as you unfold it.

"you look really nice today."

it’s not signed. there’s nothing to indicate who wrote it, no distinctive handwriting that you can immediately recognize. just a simple, almost shy admission written in neat, slanted script.

you glance around the room, scanning the faces of your classmates, wondering who might be watching, waiting for your reaction. but no one meets your gaze. no one looks even remotely suspicious.

it becomes a pattern after that.

every few days, another note appears. in your locker, slipped into the pocket of your bag, between the pages of your textbook. always handwritten, always short, always unsigned.

"the way you laugh makes my whole day better."

"i wish I had the courage to talk to you."

"you’re beautiful in ways i can’t put into words."

the anonymity should make you uneasy, but it doesn’t. there’s something so earnest about them, so completely genuine, that all you feel is warmth spreading through your chest each time you find a new one.

and then, you start to notice.

the way jake stares a little too long when he thinks you aren’t looking. the way he fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie whenever you walk into the room. the way his face turns an unmistakable shade of red if you so much as smile in his direction.

jake, who barely speaks to you, who stumbles over his words whenever you ask him a question, who always seems to be lingering near but never quite close enough.

jake, whose handwriting—now that you’re paying attention—looks an awful lot like the one on the notes you’ve been collecting.

the realization sends your heart racing. you don’t say anything at first, don’t confront him, don’t let on that you might know. instead, you watch. you notice the way his hands twitch as if resisting the urge to reach for something, the way he swallows hard when your fingers graze his as you both reach for the same book.

one day, you decide to test your theory.

you wait until class ends, until the hallway is mostly empty, until you see jake stuffing his books into his bag, his movements tense and deliberate. with a deep breath, you step closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his desk as you pass by.

“you know,” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “whoever’s been leaving me those notes… i hope they know i’d really like to meet them.”

his hands freeze, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. slowly, he lifts his head, and for the first time, you watch as an entire storm of emotions flickers across his face—panic, hope, something dangerously close to longing.

you let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and teasing, as you slowly made your way around his desk, closing the space between you with an easy confidence. now standing directly in front of him, you could see it clearly—the way his fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, knuckles paling as if holding on for dear life. his posture was stiff, his breath unsteady, and his eyes, wide with something between panic and anticipation, flickered up to meet yours. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, caught red-handed, though for once, it was in the best way possible.

your gaze drops briefly to the bag clutched in his hands, the very thing that exposed him, the very thing that gave away the thoughts he had so carefully tucked away in ink and paper. you tilt your head slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes as you shift your focus back to him.

"i love the way you write about me, jakey..." you murmur, voice soft but laced with something undeniably knowing, undeniably intoxicating. the new nickname rolls off your tongue so smoothly, so naturally, as if it’s always belonged to you. you watch the way his breath stutters, the way his grip on the bag falters for just a fraction of a second before tightening again, as if he’s unsure whether to pull it closer or let it slip from his grasp entirely.

you reach out with slow, deliberate movements, fingers barely brushing against his skin as you push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. the metal frames are cool under your touch, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his flushed face. you don’t miss the way he tenses at the contact, his breath hitching, his shoulders going rigid as if the mere proximity of your hand is enough to unravel him.

the moment lingers, thick with something unspoken, something heavy. his wide, nervous eyes flicker between yours, unsure of where to look, unsure of what to do with himself. and maybe it’s that uncertainty, that helplessness, that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat coil low in your abdomen. because he’s so easy to tease, so easy to break down with just the right touch, just the right words.

your hand remains close, the space between you nearly nonexistent now, your face mere inches from his. he smells good—clean, warm, faint traces of something familiar that only makes you want to lean in even further. your lips curl into something wicked, something teasing, as you let out a soft hum, watching the way he swallows thickly, his fingers twitching slightly where they rest against his lap, as if unsure whether to move or stay perfectly still.

"what's wrong, jakey?" you purr, voice dripping with amusement, with mock concern. your tone is light, playful, but your eyes say something else entirely—something darker, something knowing. you drink in his reaction, how he squirms under your gaze, how he shifts slightly in his seat as if trying to escape the intensity of the moment.

and god, you love it. love the way he looks at you, love the way he stammers, love the way he seems so completely at your mercy. it’s intoxicating, so much so that you feel the heat pooling between your legs, a slow, aching throb that only grows the longer you watch him squirm.

your fingers find their way into his hair, burying themselves in the soft, fluffy strands as if they belong there, as if they were always meant to tangle and twist in the dark locks. you take your time, twirling the strands lazily around your fingers, feeling their silky texture between each gentle tug. the motion is slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic, and yet, it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes never leave his.

he’s frozen, wide-eyed and breathless, his lips parting slightly as if he wants to say something—anything—but the words never come. maybe it’s because your touch is too much, too intimate, too intoxicating. or maybe it’s the way you tilt your head slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you lean in just enough for your breath to fan against his flushed skin.

"you want me, jakey?" you murmur, voice dripping with a teasing lilt, each syllable slow, savoring the moment. you don’t need his answer—you already know. it’s written all over him, from the way his body tenses beneath your touch to the way his fingers curl helplessly against his thighs, unsure whether to grab onto something or keep trembling in place.

your lips ghost over his cheek, barely grazing the flushed skin before dragging toward his ear, slow and torturous. the warmth of your breath sends a visible shiver down his spine, and when you finally let your lips brush against the sensitive shell of his ear, it’s like he completely unravels.

a soft, broken whimper escapes him, followed by a quiet, shuddering breath as his body betrays him, squirming, pressing further into his seat as if trying to ground himself. his grip tightens against the fabric of his pants, knuckles white, every muscle in his body strained as he struggles to maintain some semblance of composure.

but it’s useless—you can feel it, see it, the way he’s already falling apart from something as simple as your touch, your voice, your lips barely even touching him. and god, you love it. you love the way he melts under you, love the way he reacts, so sweet, so helpless. it only makes you want to push further, to see just how much more he can take before he completely breaks.

"please... please..." he whimpered, voice trembling, thick with desperation. his breath hitched as his hips instinctively bucked, the fabric of his pants doing little to hide the way his cock twitched, aching for attention—aching for you. he was restless, every muscle in his body coiled tight with anticipation, needing more, needing anything you were willing to give him.

"hmm, you've been such a good boy, jakey..." you cooed, voice dripping with sweet amusement as you let your fingertips trace lightly over his clothed thighs, feeling the tension beneath them. with a slow, deliberate movement, you gripped the arms of his chair and pushed it back, creating just enough space for you to sink down onto your knees before him. the sight of him like this—eyes glassy with lust, lips parted, breath shaky—only fueled your desire to tease him even further.

your hands roamed, starting at his thighs, kneading the firm muscle beneath your palms before sliding up, up, towards his waist. you could feel the heat radiating from him, his body reacting to your every touch. with a slow, torturous motion, you let your fingers ghost back down, stopping just before where he needed you most. his breath came out in shallow pants, his fingers gripping the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"you want this really bad, jakey?" you murmured, voice low, sultry, teasing as your gaze dropped to the straining bulge in his pants. he let out a desperate little whine, shifting in his seat as though that might somehow alleviate the throbbing ache between his legs. his need was palpable, his body screaming for you even when his words failed him.

your fingers trailed up to his zipper, slow and deliberate, the sound of metal teeth parting filling the air as you dragged it down with agonizing ease. his breath hitched, body tensing beneath your touch, every fiber of his being reacting to the way your fingers brushed against him—light, teasing, knowing.

his thighs twitched, his hips shifting as he tried to hold himself still, but the anticipation was too much, too overwhelming. he squirmed, his breath coming out in broken, needy gasps, chest rising and falling rapidly as you took your time, relishing the way he unraveled right in front of you.

"please... y/n..." he whimpered, voice strained, thick with desperation. the sound sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way his resolve was crumbling, piece by piece. he was so vulnerable like this—so beautifully, helplessly desperate for your touch.

your hands moved with a teasing slowness as you hooked your fingers around the waistband of his pants, dragging them down inch by inch. the fabric clung to him, as if even his clothes refused to part with the heat radiating off his body. you could feel how tense he was, how his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips, his thighs trembling ever so slightly as you peeled away the final barrier keeping him from you.

his boxers slipped down in the same motion, and the moment they were low enough, his cock sprang free, slapping back against his abdomen with a soft, almost lewd sound. the sight alone made your breath catch—so hard, so flushed, twitching with every tiny movement, as if aching for any kind of relief.

a choked moan escaped his lips, his head tipping back against the chair, fingers digging into the chair as he tried to ground himself against the intensity of it all. he was completely exposed to you now, vulnerable and needy, his entire body betraying just how badly he wanted this—wanted you.

your fingers wrapped around his length, warmth radiating from him, his skin burning hot beneath your touch. the moment you made contact, a sharp gasp tore through his lips, followed by a broken whine that sent shivers straight down your spine. he was already so worked up, so desperate—his cock twitching in your grip, thick beads of precum spilling from the swollen tip, trailing down in glistening strands. the sight alone made your mouth water, the way it throbbed, the way his body reacted to even the slightest touch.

his hands flew back, fingers gripping onto the edge of the desk behind him, knuckles turning white as he tried to ground himself. his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his lips parting as more sounds spilled from him—needy, unfiltered, shameless moans that only made your desire to ruin him even stronger.

"f-fuck... y/n..." he whimpered, voice cracking, hips instinctively bucking up into your hand, chasing even the slightest bit of friction.

your grip tightened just a little, testing, teasing, watching as his whole body tensed at the sensation. you started slow, agonizingly slow, your fingers stroking him in soft, deliberate movements, dragging up from the base, squeezing lightly just under the tip before gliding back down. each stroke had him gasping, his thighs trembling on either side of you, his entire body completely at your mercy.

"so fucking big, jakey..." you murmured, voice laced with both admiration and teasing, your thumb circling the tip, spreading the precum that dripped so generously from him.

his head tipped back against the chair, mouth falling open as a deep, shaky moan left him. he looked so wrecked already, so beautifully desperate, his body betraying just how much he wanted—no, needed—your touch.

your hands moved faster now, each stroke slick and effortless, his cock completely coated in his own precum, the lewd wet sounds of it filling the space between you. the way it dripped down, pooling at the base, only fueled the heat simmering in your core, making you tighten your grip just enough to make him shudder.

"y/n—!.." he choked out, voice breaking into a desperate whine as his head fell back against the chair, exposing the long column of his throat. his eyes screwed shut, lips parted, breath coming out in sharp, uneven pants, his whole body trembling beneath your touch. his fingers clawed at the desk behind him, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.

"you're doing so good, baby... fuck..." you purred, voice thick with hunger, your eyes drinking in every little detail—the way his brows knitted together in pleasure, the way his muscles tensed with every stroke, the way his thighs quivered on either side of you, completely at your mercy.

but what really drove you insane was the way he whined for more, how his body instinctively chased your touch, his hips stuttering forward despite how hard he tried to keep still. you could feel him twitch in your palm, his need growing, his body on the verge of breaking under the intensity of it all.

his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, the flushed color of his cheeks making him look so utterly wrecked, so beautiful like this—falling apart for you, because of you.

your tongue flicked out, barely ghosting over his swollen tip before pressing flat against it, collecting the thick beads of precum that had pooled there. the taste was intoxicating—warm, slightly salty, completely addictive—and you let out a soft hum of satisfaction as you savored it. the moment your tongue made contact, a loud, broken moan ripped from his throat, his hips jerking up involuntarily, as if his body was begging for more before his mind could even catch up.

his thighs trembled beneath your touch, muscles flexing as you dragged your tongue down the underside of his length, tracing along the prominent vein that pulsed with every rapid beat of his heart. slow, deliberate, teasing. you took your time, savoring the way his cock twitched in response to every flick of your tongue, every wet kiss you left against his burning skin. when you reached the base, you pressed your lips there, sucking lightly before dragging your tongue back up, tracing the same path until you reached the tip once more.

without warning, you took him into your mouth, the heat of it enveloping his sensitive tip as your lips wrapped around him. his reaction was immediate—a sharp gasp, followed by a low, shuddering moan as his hands instinctively shot to the desk behind him, fingers curling around the edge like he was trying to keep himself grounded.

your tongue swirled around his tip as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, creating just the right amount of pressure to have him unraveling beneath you. your hands weren’t idle either—one gripped the base of his cock, stroking in tandem with the rhythm of your mouth, while the other pressed against his thigh, feeling the way it tensed under your touch.

"shit, shit, shit—y/n!" he gasped, voice high and desperate, his entire body shaking. "too much… please!"

but even as he begged, his hips twitched forward, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull away or push deeper into your warmth. his body was betraying him, chasing the pleasure even as his mind tried to resist, and you loved every second of it.

his glasses slipped from his face, tumbling onto the floor with a soft clatter, but he couldn’t bring himself to care—not when his entire body was shaking, overwhelmed by the unbearable heat coiling in his stomach, the tight knot threatening to snap at any moment. his breath came out in ragged, uneven pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as he teetered on the very edge, his thighs trembling beneath your touch.

"fuck… fuck…" his voice was wrecked, breaking apart with every syllable, barely able to form the words through the waves of pleasure crashing over him. "y/n, can i cum? please… c-can i—i?" he whined, his voice raw with desperation, his body completely at your mercy. small, glistening tears slipped down his flushed cheeks, his brows knitted together as he looked down at you, his eyes glassy, pleading.

the second you gave him a nod, the smallest signal of permission, his control shattered entirely.

his head tipped back, his lips parting in a loud, unrestrained moan as his body seized, completely undone beneath your touch. your hands moved even faster, stroking him with a relentless pace, and at the same time, you took him deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock twitch violently against your tongue.

"ah—ahh, fuck—!"

his entire body tensed as pleasure crashed through him like a tidal wave, his hands scrambling for anything to hold onto as his release hit him with overwhelming force.

hot, thick ropes of cum filled your mouth in an instant, the sheer amount catching you off guard as you tried to swallow, a few soft coughs escaping you as you struggled to take it all. he was gasping above you, moaning brokenly, completely spent, his body still shaking as aftershocks coursed through him.

his glasses lay forgotten on the floor, his mind hazy, clouded with pleasure. the only thing grounding him now was you—your touch, your warmth, the way you were still there, taking everything he gave you.

after finally catching your breath, you lifted your gaze to meet his, watching the way his dazed, unfocused eyes struggled to stay open. his chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his release. he looked completely wrecked—his hair damp with sweat, sticking messily to his forehead, his lips parted as he tried to steady himself.

but you weren’t done with him yet.

no, you wanted him to remember this for the rest of his life.

your fingers wrapped around his length once more, feeling how sensitive he had become, the way he twitched helplessly in your grasp. the second you moved, stroking him with slow, deliberate motions, a broken whimper tore from his throat. his whole body jolted, thighs quivering as the overstimulation sent sharp jolts of pleasure straight through him.

"w-wait, i—" his voice was barely coherent, breathy and wrecked, his head lolling to the side as he tried to process what was happening. but you didn’t give him a chance to recover, didn’t give him room to protest.

without hesitation, you leaned in and took him into your mouth once more, swallowing him down in one fluid motion until his tip nudged the back of your throat. his reaction was immediate—his body tensed so violently that his hands scrambled for something, anything to hold onto.

"ah—fuck, y/n—!" he cried out, a high, desperate moan ripping through him, his hands gripping at the desk behind him as his body writhed under your touch. he was so sensitive, every nerve in his body on fire, overwhelmed by the unbearable pleasure of being overstimulated.

his thighs tensed beneath your hands, his hips jerking up instinctively despite the way he shook uncontrollably. tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his lips trembling as he tried to form words, tried to beg—but nothing coherent came out, only broken whimpers and desperate gasps.

you could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his body completely at your mercy, and it only made you want to push him further—to drag him past his limits, make him drown in pleasure until he couldn’t think of anything else but you.

and by the way his body continued to tremble, the way his voice cracked as he moaned your name, you knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

and you loved every second of it.

"y/n! i—i can't!" he cried out, voice cracking under the weight of overwhelming pleasure. his words came out breathless, barely coherent between the sharp, desperate gasps that spilled from his lips. his body trembled violently, his back arching slightly as he writhed beneath your touch, every nerve in his body on fire.

but his pleas only fueled you further, only made you more determined to push him past his breaking point, to make him feel nothing but you.

his moans grew louder, more broken, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through the overstimulation. his hands clawed at the surface behind him, fingers curling into helpless fists, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer. his thighs quivered beneath your grip, his entire body fighting against the pleasure that was consuming him whole.

"p-please, too much—" he whined, voice high-pitched, almost desperate, but you could feel how his cock twitched in your mouth, how his body betrayed him despite his pleas.

you weren’t stopping. not when he was falling apart so beautifully for you.

the more he gasped, the more he moaned, the more you wanted to ruin him completely, to make sure he would never forget the way you made him feel tonight. and by the way he trembled, the way he clung to anything that could ground him, you knew he was close—so close to breaking, so close to surrendering entirely to you.

"shit! oh my god—y/n!" he screamed, his voice breaking into a desperate, uncontrollable sob of pleasure as his entire body convulsed beneath you.

his back arched off the chair, his thighs trembling so violently that he nearly lost his footing, hands flying to grip the desk behind him in a feeble attempt to ground himself. but it was useless—he was far too gone, drowning in the unbearable intensity of his release, completely at your mercy as pleasure wracked through him like a powerful, unrelenting wave.

his cock twitched violently in your mouth, and within seconds, he was spilling over once more—hot, thick ropes of cum flooding past your lips, the sheer amount far more than before. some of it trickled down your chin, dripping in sinful streaks as you tried to swallow, but there was just too much.

his moans turned into high, broken cries, the overstimulation sending him spiraling into a place of pure ecstasy, his body shaking so hard that his knees nearly buckled. tears pricked at the corners of his tightly shut eyes, his lips trembling as he gasped for air between moans, his chest rising and falling erratically.

"f-fuck, oh my god," he whimpered, voice raw and strained, his mind completely fogged over with pleasure. his fingers twitched against the desk, his body so spent, so overstimulated, yet still so incredibly sensitive under your touch.

his release dripped from your lips, warm and thick, and you could feel the way he shuddered at the sight, the realization that he had come so hard, so completely wrecked by your hands, your mouth, your touch.

and even as his body trembled, even as he struggled to come down from the high that had just shattered him to pieces, you knew deep down—he still wanted more.

natty's notes ‹𝟹 something new for sure but i just love sub jake so this was a must. hoped you enjoyed!

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!” You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 8

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: angst, panic attack/ptsd, descriptions of an abusive relationship Wordcount: 5.1K A/C: HEY MY BABIESSSS instead of talking about the game let's just read this chapter okay? okay. (would love to say this will cheer you up but prepare for some angst lol). anyway thank you for being patient with me AGAIN! i'll be real i've been feeling a little unmotivated bc of the anons i get rushing me and it's really getting to my head but i'm pretty sure most of them have disappeared and left are you all amazing lovely patient people so yay :)) ty for supporting me and this series ily mwah

-

Before London

“Good game, Paige,” Phee whispers into my ear as she hugs me tight. I’m standing next to Dorka, just done taking what felt like 500 pictures with her. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, raising my brows at the woman. Phee smiles with empathy, rubbing my shoulder, still sweaty and sticky from the game. 

“No one’s first game is good,” she comforts me. We’re standing in the middle of the court, people buzzing around us as the crowd makes its way out. From the corner of my eye I see Izara’s jet black hair set in perfect waves, joined by Trey standing next to her, hand on her lower back. A flash of jealousy shoots through my body watching the two of them, laughing as they walk through the crowd filming content. I didn’t want anyone touching her but me. Ever. I knew we were just supposed to be friends but it felt impossible. Whenever my eyes landed on her my soul burned, every part of me craving her in a way that I knew was more than just friendship, or even more than lust. 

“We went brick for brick huh?”

My blue eyes move from Izzie to Arike, her hand squeezing my shoulder. The woman was right, neither of our shots had gone in. Neither of us had found a pace or confidence to support one another. It was almost embarrassing. No, it was definitely embarrassing. Especially when I saw my dad’s face in the crowd, hissing to himself when I missed both my free throws. The only thing that could make me feel better now was getting to take Izara, no interruptions, no thoughts, just me and her.

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Zari’s eyes lift and land on mine. With a softened gaze, I let out a sigh of relief, swimming in her green eyes lined with black as time seems to slow down around me. The other people might as well not exist. It’s only her.

“Yeah,” I chuckle quietly to Arike, pushing through her and the rest of the crowd, urgent steps just wanting to feel the dark haired girl. She’s alone now, holding a notepad, standing in the middle of the court surrounded by crowds of people, sounds of chatter echoing around the arena. 

“Paige-” Izzie mumbles as I reach her, but with a simple look I silence her, hand wrapping into hers as I pull her behind me off the court, away from everyone. The corridors are quiet, dim, yet I navigate them with ease. The sounds of the crowd turn muffled, the noise of our heavy breathing and hurried steps overtaking them. My heart pounds in my chest, weakened body ready for surrender.

I pull us into a darkened unlocked room, some sort of storage I guess but I’m too busy to look around and make sure. As the door closes I push her against it in the dark, my sweaty body still in the brand new, strange jersey, pressing into Izara. I’m barely conscious of kissing her, my body working before my head can. But I feel starved, tongue meeting hers as our lips collide.

“Wait, wait,” Iz mumbles breathlessly, but I don’t hear it. The pounding in my chest too loud in my head. My hands travel from her waist to her hips, squeezing the skin as I slot my thigh between her legs.

“Paige…” the girl mumbles with a whimper, a raspy moan spilling from my lips against hers.

“Please baby,” I murmur, feeling like I could cry from how overwhelming the ache in my body is growing. Stirring within me are all the feelings combining into one - disappointment, failure, sorrow, longing, want. I wanted to bury them all into the girl in front of me.

I’m kissing her neck now, my fingertips slipping underneath her top. Her bare brown, silky skin feels smooth and delicate.

“Paige, stop.”

“Huh?” I ask, nose nuzzling her skin, inhaling.

“Stop, please.”

Confused, I pull back, my hands resting on her waist as Izzie’s green eyes avoid my gaze, looking around the dim room.

“Are you okay ma?” I ask, attempting to calm down my breathing.

Izzie’s brows are furrowed and she licks her lips, a soft sigh escaping her mouth.

“We have to talk.”

“Bro, I just played the worst game of my career, let’s talk after,” I chuckle sarcastically. “Need you baby.”

I lean down to kiss her neck again but Izzie’s manicured hand is on my chest, holding me back. Her eyes are rounder than usual as she stares up at me.

“Paige, we really need to talk. Now.”

She’s serious. I can tell she is. Without thinking the first thought I have slips my mouth.

“Is it Jasper?” I ask, pulling my hands off her body.

There’s a moment of silence. I can barely see her face sink in the dark, eyes slowly growing used to the lack of light. Izara rolls her eyes and turns to step out of the room but my hand is on the handle before she can reach it.

“Ma,” I murmur, pressing my front into her back.

“You can’t call me that anymore Paige,” she sighs, back facing me.

My heart sinks, my mind trying to wrap around what she’s saying. The implications of what the words might mean. I pray to God I’m wrong.

“Whatchu mean Iz?” I ask, voice beginning to shake with anxiety. The girl turns around, chewing on her bottom lip - something I had never seen her do.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

There it is. What I was dreading. I’m glad it’s dark, that the girl doesn’t see my eyes begin to well up. Why would I cry? We had never been anything. We’d never even fucked. So why did I feel like my heart was about to break?

“Whatchu mean this?” I ask, it takes every bit of my concentration to maintain a steady voice.

The dark haired girl sighs, eyes roaming me for a moment. “I could get fired,” she whispers. “If we got caught.”

“Who gives a shit?” I ask, scoffing. She could always get a new job. I thought I’d be worth more. But then again why would I be? She was the one who said it was just sex. Except it hadn’t even had the chance to be that.

“You must be joking,” Izara jeers, finally pushing me off her. “You are so selfish.”

She’s reaching for the door handle but I hold it shut. I can’t have her leave like this.

“Bro no I didn’t mean it like that,” I sigh. I always had a habit of speaking before I thought it through when my feelings took over. “I just… I’m having a hard time getting what you’re tryna say.”

“What I’m saying,” she starts. “Is that we can’t keep fooling around anymore.”

She takes a deep sigh. “Actually, I don’t know if it’s so smart for us to be friends anymore Paige.”

The panic sets in, my heart beginning to pound at a rapid rate.

“Wh-what? The fuck you mean we can’t be friends?”

“I mean from now on we should keep our relationship strictly professional.”

Her voice is so cold, calculated, that it’s almost like it doesn’t even matter to her. That it doesn’t phase her one bit. 

“Is that what you want?” I ask sternly, mirroring the coldness of her voice.

“I-” the girl starts. “I can’t lose this job. I can’t go back to London.”

“Aight.”

I walk out.

And just like that I lose my best friend. My only friend in all of Texas. Sure I had Arike, I had Lou and I had the team. But she was my only friend, the only one I felt like I could truly talk to, who truly got me. And I lost her. Just like that.

-

Need paige to look at me like that fr

yoooooo paige ntm

BOAFFFF who that next to Paige???

Paige got a starin problem

PAIGE IN LOVE WITH THAT GIRL ARE YOU KIDDING

My eyes skim through comment after comment under the video filmed before Paige’s first game in the Wings. We hadn’t been as slick as we thought. In hindsight it was obvious, the way Paige’s blue eyes roamed my body with that sly smirk, the way my cheeks flush red when my eyes met hers. God, I can’t believe I had been behaving like that, right before my peers. The people I worked with. In a public video. I felt so embarrassed. It just wasn’t me. That had been a couple weeks ago now though.

“Zari, stop reading the comments sweetheart,” Trey chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder. I sigh, putting the phone down and groaning.

“We should just delete it.”

“Nah,” the man says. “Would be weird to delete it now.”

I sigh, looking up at him. His hand comes to my chin, holding my gaze. “Linda’s not gonna read em.”

“You sure?” I ask carefully. Trey nods, brushing a strand of hair off my face. It annoys me, but I don’t know how to reject his touch.

“You ready to head home?” He asks.

“I can take an uber Trey,” I murmur, pulling away from him finally, unease stirring in my stomach. 

“C’mon, I don’t mind driving you.”

“You sure? it’s out the way for you.”

“Let’s go home Zari.”

We walk to the car, Trey’s voice echoing in the hallway but I barely hear him, the faint sound of Paige’s voice laughing on the court making its way into my ears and taking me out of whatever the man next to me is trying to say. The weight on my chest makes it hard to breathe. I fan myself, trying to help the airflow.

Other than the occasional talk regarding media work, or the rare interview on TikTok I hadn’t spoken to Paige for 13 days. Not more than a hello, or a “good game” after a night of watching her on the court. When we met in the apartment stairway there barely was an awkward smile as we passed each other. I missed her badly. 

I had realised I hated Dallas, I hated the fake niceness of the Americans, I hated the heat that had grown unbearable in the past couple weeks. But I loved my job. I loved working with the sport I loved. I was good at it. I think everything would be better if I found a position with another team, but it would be risky to ask around. I was in a rut, my only friend was Trey.

The entire drive home is silent on my part as I stare out the window at the other cars. Driving home used to be my favourite part of the day. I felt giddy as Paige opened the door for me, as we took turns picking songs to play. I felt my heart drop everytime we said bye. I found myself sitting in my living room staring at the living room, thinking about her afterwards. Her blue eyes, the way she looked at me as if I was the only person on the planet. How her gentle grazes felt on my brown skin. 

So I repeat that routine, urgently saying bye to Trey and hurrying into my apartment. Closing the door and plopping myself down on the couch, staring at the wooden shelf decorating the otherwise blank wall in silence. The shelf Paige put up for me.

As I’m five minutes into my staring ritual a strange faint thumping noise reaches my ears, distant but clear in a steady rhythm. It’s coming from above. It’s coming from the blonde’s apartment. No doubt.

Just as I stand up to walk around and listen to the sound further, high pitched whimpers and gasps reach my ears. It doesn’t take more for the nauseating mental image of what’s happening in the apartment above to pop into my head. These walls were thick too, no noise, stomping, or music came through. Ever. It felt like torture. The stirring thoughts of what Paige was doing to some girl, lying on top of her, pinning her down. The way she was on top of me. The way I nearly got to have her.

“Fucking shit,” I mumble to myself, shaking my head as I rummage my bag for my headphones, turning the first song I find on a volume that might make me go deaf. Good. Anything to cover up the noise.

-

I hated Dallas. I had somehow convinced myself for a brief, fleeting moment that it wasn’t so bad. I was wrong. I hated it here. I had begun to dread every game. I was in a rut. I had no idea how to get out. My first two weeks in the league had been disastrous. Thank the Lord for Arike, for she had taken me under her wing, motivating me to stay consistent, challenging me in practice to do my best. But in front of the crowd, in front of all the players I grew up watching and admiring, I bricked up. 

Chris was an angel. Telling me I’d get over it as long as I didn’t give up. I wasn’t a quitter and I found comfort in the fact that other freshmen had a hard start to the season as well. Except Olivia Miles who had been hustling like crazy in the Storms. She earned it, but still the competitive side of me was drowning in jealousy. That was supposed to be me. I needed to be the rookie of the year. But this rut was taking all the joy out of me. I know what Geno would be saying. That I’m throwing myself a pity party and I needed to get over it. And once again I’d hate to admit that he’s right.

It took every ounce of strength I had to stay away from Izzie. To not gaze at her when she appeared in the corner of my eye, to not yearn for her presence when I lay in the dark at night, to not inhale as deeply as humanly possible every time she passed me. It felt like torture to pretend nothing happened between us.

To my demise it wasn’t just her body I longed for. It was her giggles, her stern stares when I played too much, it was her existence that I missed the most. Her weight on the opposite end of the couch, her quiet humming as she sat in the passenger seat of my car. It was killing me to stay away from her. Killing me. The only momentary relief I found was hooking up with other girls, but the moment it was over I always wanted them gone as quickly as I could.

“I’m sitting next to you okay?” Lou murmurs as us Wings pile into the airplane, moving in a slow line towards our seats.

“Good, I’mma need to take a nap,” I mumble, my voice hoarse and tired. We’re flying out to Chicago for a late night game, forcing us to catch a 5AM flight. Inhumane working conditions, I swear.

Somewhere behind me Izara is whispering to someone, her voice immediately recognisable to me even as a faint sound. My stomach turns as I grind my teeth together to distract from the desire to flip my head and look at her just for a moment. I slide myself into my seat next to the window, but as Lou is about to follow after, Chris stops her.

“Sorry, I know it’s early but Trey said they got an idea for some media stuff for you Paige. You don’t mind right?” Chris asks, holding Lou back and looking around. Before I can stop him or resist, he’s waving someone over. “Zari! You can do it now!”

The dark haired girl’s eyes widen as she looks around, trying to find someone to replace her. There’s no one. I want to die and from the look on the girl’s face, so does she.

“Just come sit next to Paige, c’mon, don’t be shy,” Chris chuckles, clearly unaware of how close we used to be. Good, at least we fooled someone. He might’ve been the only one we fooled.

Izzie looks as classy and elegant as ever, holding a beige trench coat in her hands, wearing boots and a champagne coloured satin skirt, hair and makeup done to perfection even at 5AM, standing out in a sea of messy hair and hoodies. I can tell she’s uneasy as she passes Chris and Lou, whispering a sorry to the brunette girl. I immediately stand up out of an old habit, pointing to my seat.

“You want the window one?” I ask gently, quietly, so no one hears my voice shaking.

Her green eyes twinkle as she looks everywhere but me, smiling awkwardly. “No, thank you though. I’m fine here.”

We sit down together, the heat radiating off her shoulder nearly rubbing against me making my eyes flutter shut just for a second. This better be quick or I might explode.

“Uh ok,” I mumble, watching as she sets her purse down and pulls out that notepad full of lists, mind maps and schedules that she always carries around. “Soo… how you been?”

“Just fine,” she whispers absentmindedly, looking for the right page. “I mean, good. I’ve been good. And you?”

The way she talks to me causes an ache in my heart, the coldness of her tone as if we were nothing more than co-workers. I guess that’s all we were now.

“I’m fine,” I reply with equal distance in my voice. “So whassup?”

“Well me and Trey,” of course her and Trey. All she did nowadays was walk around with him, giggling and whispering, letting Trey guide her by the small of her back. “We thought the fans might like it if you filmed a sort of game day vlog today. Would that be okay?”

I sigh, the tiredness not helping the pregame anxiety already making my chest tight. “Uhh, today?”

“I know, it’s going to be such a long day,” Zari mumbles, her eyes meeting mine, suddenly filled with empathy. “I’m sorry.” I think she might mean more than just today. I think she means us.

For a moment we stare at each other, and I think I see a hint of longing in her eye, but it soon disappears when Trey plops himself on the aisle seat on the other side of Izzie.

“How are we doing here ladies?” He asks, looking at the dark haired girl, bringing his hand to squeeze Izzie’s knee. Pulling my hand into a fist, I quickly look away, body trembling with jealousy. I hated Trey. I hated how he touched the girl I was meant to be with.

“We’re good Trey,” Izara smiles softly, but moves her leg further away from the man.

“You sure Zari?”

His tone softens, hand following the girl's knee despite the clear sign she doesn’t want to be touched by him. I grind my teeth together trying not to intervene. I know if anyone it’s Izzie who can handle herself.

“Trey,” the girl sighs. “We’re just fine. I’ll show Paige what to do and come sit with you, okay?”

She’s annoyed. I can tell because I knew her, really knew her. Trey doesn’t.

“Okay, I’mma go to my seat,” Trey smiles, waving bye to me. I barely lift my hand in response.

“Dude’s persistent,” I mumble, watching as he walks away. Iz scoffs, returning to her notepad. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she murmurs. I scoff too, leaning back on the seat and spreading my legs further to feel Izara’s calf against mine. She doesn’t move, matter of fact I think she presses back just the tiniest bit.

“I mean that guy wants you bad,” I whisper.

Izara’s green eyes flicker to mine for a moment, before she rolls them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I thought Linda didn’t like y’all dating coworkers.”

“She doesn’t.”

“Then why you letting Trey feel you up and shit?”

“Paige,” Zari warns me with a quiet scoff. Her eyes are stern. I know she means it. But I can’t help the jealousy stirring in me.

“If you into him you shoulda just said.”

“Paige!” She scoffs, eyes widening in shock at my attitude. I’m taking it too far, but I felt overwhelmed with everything going on in my life. And it’s not like I was ruining our friendship, it was already ruined.

So I don’t answer or back down. I stare straight into her green eyes, not looking away. Izzie’s entire face hardens as she rolls her eyes and is about to stand up, I assume to switch seats just as the seatbelt light turns on.

“You gotta sit do-”

“I know!” She huffs. I had never seen her composure crack this much out in public. It gave me a sick kind of satisfaction, to know I was getting under her skin. 

We sit in silence, the girl tapping her foot nervously as the plane begins to move towards the runway. Iz chews on her lower lip, fingers scratching her arms, eyes shut. She’s anxious.

“You okay?” I ask, softening my voice a little. 

The girl sighs, eyes fluttering open. “I hate the takeoff.”

I nod, watching Izara closely. Not sure what to say as we begin to accelerate for the ascend, I offer my hand to her. Without hesitation, the dark haired girl grabs it. I feel like I might burst into tears, realising just how bad I had missed her soft hand in mine, her gentle fingers grazing against my skin. As the plane takes off Izzie’s fingers tighten around my fingers, long nails digging into my skin. I don’t mind. Matter of fact I hope she draws blood, I hope she leaves scars and marks me forever. So she can be a part of me and my existence until I die.

She doesn’t let go until the seatbelt light turns off.

-

“Fucking shit!” I groan to myself, slamming the bench in the dressing room. Another shit game. Not for everyone, we won. But for me. And I couldn’t blame the coaching, I couldn’t blame the team, I couldn’t blame anyone but me. I felt livid. Furious. I couldn’t believe this was how my story had turned out. This couldn’t be God’s plan for me. It wasn’t right. 

What made it even worse was the online discourse. The comments and the noise had become too much. I couldn’t open Twitter or TikTok without seeing comments of how I fell off, of how Uconn ruined me, how I had officially flopped. That I’d always be the girl who peaked in college.

“Fuck,” I hiss to myself as I feel Arike’s hand come to my shoulder and squeeze comfortingly as she passes me - a wordless comforting gesture that had become routine for us. She knew I wasn’t in the mood to talk after games like that.

“I’mma get some air,” I mumble, fully aware that I was behaving like a toddler who couldn’t get her way. I couldn’t help it. It was like I was out of my body, watching as I pull the jersey off in frustration and throw it behind me on the floor, walking out of the dressing room with a slam of the door.

“Ow!” Izzie’s screams as she bumps into my chest. Hard.

“Shit!” I yelp, grabbing her shoulders.

The dark haired girl chuckles softly, clearly unaware of my bad mood. “Hey, I was just looking for you. I was going to suggest that you-”

“Iz, no offense but not right now,” I groan as I walk past her, trying to keep the anger bubbling right beneath the surface in check. It wasn’t working, I could feel myself wanting to explode, skin itching and feeling hot.

“Oh,” she hums, following after me. “I’m sorry… Is there something I can do?”

“Fuck, Zari! Just leave me alone!”

My voice echoes back to me in the empty hallways. The scream is harsh, mean. I never call her Zari. I would never yell at her like this. I can’t believe myself. It immediately takes me out of my anger, and in that moment I turn over to see her.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Iz-”

-

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Iz-”

The room is spinning, my pulse rushing into my head. I hear the thumping of my heartbeat in my ears. Cheeks growing hot. I might be sick. I can feel my hands trembling - no, not my hands. My whole body. Without letting the blonde finish her apology, I walk off. I don’t hear anything but the pounding in my head.

Every raised voice I heard nowadays had me struggling. Ever since my engagement I couldn’t handle being screamed at. Something about the yelling fits Jasper got into had left a permanent mark on me. I could feel my palms sweating as I walk away from Paige aimlessly, unsure where I was going. Unaware of the blonde following after me until her clammy hands grab my shoulders.

“Izzie, I’m sorry, I dunno why I yelled ma,” she says remorsefully but it barely registers. In the midst of some sort of panic attack I try to fan myself, my clothes suddenly seeming too tight and overstimulating against my skin. I can feel the seams digging in, the tags rubbing into me irritatingly. 

“Izzie you okay mama?”

My breathing grows shallower, head increasingly spinning more and more. Suddenly I feel hands wrapping around my body and pulling me into a tight hug, warm breath tickling in my ear.

“Breathe. Breathe with me Izzie,�� her comforting, hoarse voice whispers. I feel her body expanding against mine as she takes slow, deep breaths. Focusing on the feeling I follow her pattern of breathing, now and then breaking into fast gulps of air only calmed down by Paige, reminding me to focus on her breathing as she rubs my back gently. Eventually the feeling of being unable to breath passes, replaced by utter exhaustion and lingering sadness. My body melts into Paige’s, molds against hers perfectly as we sit there and embrace. As the blonde begins to pull away I realise I don’t want her to let go of me. So I wrap my arms around her waist and tighten my hold of her. She gets the hint and embraces me for another five minutes or so. Until distant steps echo around the corridor.

“Someone’s coming,” I whisper, realising I’d been crying when I hear my own voice, shaky and soft. 

Paige pulls back just enough to look around before pulling me into a random room. The fluorescent lights of the bathroom are bright compared to the dim corridor. I blink my tears away as Paige sits me down on the edge of the sink, never letting her hands fall of me. They rub comfortingly as she chases my gaze, a sad look in her eye.

“Are you okay?”

I nod. I’m not, but better than earlier. Better now that she was here with me.

Paige sighs, shaking her head to herself. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry I yelled, I didn’t mean to I was just-”

“No, I understand,” I nod. It had been hard to watch the first couple weeks of Paige’s time with the Wings. I knew how bad she needed a win for herself, how badly she deserved it. I could tell it was wearing her down. “Was a bad game.”

“Yeah but I never woulda yelled if I knew you freaked out like that.”

“I know,” I nod, sniffling a little. Paige grabs some toilet paper and hands it to me. I offer her a weak smile as I pat the tears off my cheeks. “I just…”

A deep sigh. I had never talked about this with anyone.

“My last relationship was really… just shit, yeah?” I explain. Paige furrows her brows, and I can tell she’s really listening. Really understanding how important this was for her to hear.

“And, he yelled a lot. Threw things, hit things, he never touched me but he’d break dishes and explode over the smallest things and somehow always make me out to be the bad guy. The one who needed to apologise- well anyway, ever since then I just… I can’t handle yelling. At all.”

Paige’s blue eyes blink at me as she nods, understanding. There’s a veil of sadness over her face.

“I know I overreacted. I’m sorry Paige,” I mumble meeting her gaze but immediately the blonde shakes her head.

“No, fuck, I’m sorry Iz,” she sighs licking her lips. “I’m never raising my voice around you again. I pr-”

“No, it’s just something I need to learn to live with,” I resist but Paige shakes her head again, more sternly now.

“I promise. Never, okay?”

We look at each other for a moment. I wish I could tell her how badly I missed her. But like reading my mind Paige’s mouth opens.

“I miss you so bad.”

My heart nearly stops. I missed her more than anything. Just her presence, her closeness, her stupid jokes, the car drives. Everything.

“Me too,” I admit. “But nothing’s changed Paige.”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, fingertips coming to play with the ends of my hair as she remains standing between my legs. I usually didn’t like anyone touching my hair after I’d done it. But something in this moment had me not caring.

“Maybe,” I start but then shake my head. Horrible idea. But Paige is eager for any solutions to our little problem. Well not so little, it had consumed me.

“No, tell me. Please Iz, c’mon,” she speaks in that soft tone that always drove me wild. 

“I don’t know if it’ll work Paige.”

“Please mama, I’ll do anything. Just don’t wanna lose you. Need you in my life too bad right now.”

The two words are enough for me to fold.

“We could be friends. But that’s all it can ever be. Nothing more. Just friends,” like I said, a horrible, impossible idea. Even now my body was burning for her, her hands on my lower back leaving sparks on my skin.

Paige thinks for a while and then nods. “Then we’re friends.”

“Paige, are you sure we can be just friends?”

The blonde nods, meeting my eyes again. “I told you, I’ll be anything you need me to be.”

Fuck.

“I’mma be your friend. Till you want more. I’mma wait.”

“Paige-”

“Just say the word Iz and I’ll be more.”

She’s serious, her face hard as she looks at me.

“But for now friends, yeah?” Paige asks, thumb brushing a strand of hair that I’m not sure was even there off my cheek. Friends, what a terrible idea.

“Yeah. Friends.”

-

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[rmview]

saying they want to break up during a fight, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — when the enhypen boys say they want to break up with you in the middle of an argument!

contents — angst, hurtful words, break ups.

hee ⟡ seung

heeseung rarely raised his voice during arguments, but tonight was different. the tension between you had been simmering for weeks, and now it was boiling over. “why do you always have to twist my words?” he snapped, his usual gentle tone replaced with frustration.

“maybe because you never tell me how you really feel!” you shot back, tears brimming in your eyes.

heeseung ran a hand through his hair, his mind clouded with anger and confusion. “you know what? maybe we should just… break up,” he said, his voice faltering slightly at the end.

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. heeseung’s chest tightened the moment they left his mouth, and regret hit him like a tidal wave. but his pride wouldn’t let him backtrack just yet. he watched as your face crumbled, a mix of hurt and disbelief washing over you.

“is that what you really want?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he hesitated, the walls he’d built up during the fight starting to crack. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice softening. “i just… i don’t know what else to say.”

you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “fine. if that’s how you feel, then maybe we’re done.” without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out, leaving heeseung standing there, frozen.

the second the door closed behind you, heeseung felt a wave of panic. “what have i done?” he muttered to himself, his voice breaking. he sank onto the couch, replaying the fight in his head. he didn’t want to lose you; he never did. the words had been impulsive, born out of frustration, and now he was left with nothing but regret.

jay ⟡

jay’s temper was sharp, and when the two of you fought, it was often like a storm — loud and overwhelming. tonight was no different. “you never listen to me!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room.

“and you never try to see my side!” you retorted, your hands clenched at your sides.

jay’s jaw tightened, his emotions spiraling out of control. “maybe we shouldn’t even be together if this is how it’s always going to be,” he blurted out, his voice colder than he intended.

the moment the words left his mouth, jay felt a pang of regret. he saw the way your expression shifted, the hurt flashing in your eyes. but instead of apologizing, he doubled down, his pride refusing to let him admit his mistake.

“is that really what you want?” you asked, your voice trembling.

jay hesitated, his heart screaming “no” even as his anger pushed him to nod. “maybe it is,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

you took a shaky breath, your voice cracking as you spoke. “if that’s how you feel, then fine. i won’t stay where i’m not wanted.” you grabbed your coat and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you.

as soon as you were gone, jay sank onto the floor, his head in his hands. “why did i say that?” he muttered, guilt gnawing at him. he stared at the door, the weight of his words settling heavily in his chest. he didn’t mean it — not a single word. now, all he could think about was how to fix the mess he’d created.

jake ⟡

jake hated confrontation. he always tried to keep the peace, but tonight’s argument had spiraled out of his control. “i’m tired of always being the one to fix things!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended.

“well, maybe if you actually talked to me instead of avoiding everything, we wouldn’t have to fix anything!” you shot back, your frustration matching his.

jake felt cornered, the pressure of the fight weighing on him. “you know what? maybe we should just break up,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

the second the words were out, jake regretted them. he saw the way your face fell, the hurt in your eyes cutting through his anger like a knife. “do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice breaking.

jake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. he didn’t mean it, not at all, but his pride and the heat of the moment kept him silent.

“i can’t believe you,” you said, shaking your head. “if that’s what you want, then fine. i’m done.” you turned and walked out, leaving jake standing there, stunned.

as the door clicked shut, jake felt a wave of panic. “wait,” he whispered, but it was too late. he sank onto the couch, his head in his hands. “why did i say that?” he muttered, his voice cracking. he didn’t want to lose you, and now all he could think about was how to make things right.

sung ⟡ hoon

sunghoon rarely let his emotions get the best of him, but tonight, the argument had pushed him to his limit. “why do you always make everything so difficult?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

“because you never tell me what you’re thinking!” you countered, your voice trembling with emotion. “i’m not a mind reader, sunghoon.”

his jaw clenched as the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “maybe we shouldn’t be together if this is how it’s always going to be.”

the second the sentence left his lips, sunghoon froze. he hadn’t meant it — not even for a second. his eyes flicked to you, and he saw the hurt in your expression. it felt like a punch to his chest.

“is that how you really feel?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

sunghoon hesitated, his pride holding him back from immediately taking it back. “i don’t know,” he muttered, looking away.

you bit your lip, nodding slowly as tears filled your eyes. “if you’re not sure, then i’ll make it easy for you.” you grabbed your bag and walked out, the sound of the door closing behind you ringing in sunghoon’s ears.

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon sat down on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands. “what have i done?” he whispered to himself, his heart aching as he replayed the argument. he didn’t want to lose you, but his impulsive words had driven you away.

su ⟡ noo

sunoo’s usual cheerful demeanor was nowhere to be found as the argument escalated. “why do you always assume the worst about me?” he shouted, his voice trembling with frustration.

“because you never try to explain yourself!” you shot back, tears streaming down your face. “you just expect me to understand without saying anything.”

sunoo’s emotions overwhelmed him, and before he could think, the words slipped out. “maybe we shouldn’t be together if this is how it’s going to be.”

the moment the sentence left his mouth, sunoo’s eyes widened in shock. he immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. your expression crumbled, and he felt his heart break at the sight.

“is that really what you want?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“no, i —” he started, but his pride stopped him from fully admitting his mistake. instead, he stammered, “i don’t know.”

you nodded, wiping your tears as you turned away. “fine. if you can’t decide, then i’ll make the choice for you.” you walked out, leaving sunoo standing there, stunned and helpless.

as the door closed, sunoo sank onto the floor, tears welling up in his eyes. “i didn’t mean it,” he whispered to himself, his voice breaking. the weight of his words crushed him, and all he could think about was how to fix what he’d broken.

jung ⟡ won

jungwon prided himself on staying calm, but tonight’s argument had pushed him past his breaking point. “why do you always have to make things so complicated?” he snapped, his voice sharper than usual.

“because you never let me in!” you retorted, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you keep everything bottled up, and i’m tired of it.”

jungwon felt cornered, his emotions spiraling out of control. “maybe we should just break up, then,” he blurted out, his voice colder than he intended.

the instant the words were out, regret hit him like a truck. he saw the shock and pain on your face, and it felt like someone had punched him in the gut. “wait, i didn’t mean —” he started, but you cut him off.

“is that really how you feel?” you asked, your voice breaking.

jungwon hesitated, the weight of his pride holding him back. “i… i don’t know,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

you nodded, tears spilling over as you turned away. “then i guess there’s nothing more to say.” you walked out, leaving jungwon standing there, frozen in place.

as the door closed, jungwon collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands. “what have i done?” he muttered, his voice shaking. he didn’t want to lose you, but his impulsive words had caused more damage than he could bear.

ni ⟡ ki

ni-ki wasn’t used to handling heavy emotions, and tonight’s argument had him feeling overwhelmed. “why do you always blow things out of proportion?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

“because you never take me seriously!” you shot back, your voice trembling.

ni-ki’s anger flared, and before he could think, he said, “maybe we shouldn’t even be together.”

the moment the words left his mouth, he froze. he hadn’t meant it — not even a little. he saw the hurt flash across your face, and his stomach dropped.

“you really think that?” you asked, your voice shaky.

ni-ki hesitated, his pride and frustration clouding his judgment. “i don’t know,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

you shook your head, tears spilling over as you grabbed your things. “if you can’t decide, then i’ll make it easy for you.” you walked out, leaving ni-ki standing there, stunned and silent.

as the door clicked shut, ni-ki sank onto the floor, his heart racing. “why did i say that?” he whispered to himself, tears stinging his eyes. he didn’t want to lose you, but his impulsive words had created a rift he wasn’t sure he could mend.

notes: so i woke up and chose violence since yall keep requesting the same prompt multiple times (which is not a part of my rules >:( so everyone shall suffer) i will not be doing this topic for any other group, and no there is no part two!

[girlyrafe]

──── ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴍᴇᴛ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜱʜʏ¡ᴘᴏɢᴜᴇ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞

⌗ with rafe cameron .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ At a Kook bonfire, Rafe ignores the drunken revelry, drawn instead to you—quiet, delicate, and out of place. When a drunk spills beer on you, he instinctively steps in. A soft conversation unfolds, and when he offers to leave together, you smile.

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The bonfire burnt low, casting golden ribbons of light against the ink-dark sky. The scent of salt, woodsmoke, and cheap beer tangled in the humid air, and the laughter of drunken Kooks rippled like waves against the shore. It was a night that should have made Rafe feel untouchable—one of those careless, endless Outer Banks nights where he could drink until his mind went numb, pretend like there wasn’t a hollowed-out space inside of him.

But he wasn’t listening to Topper’s slurred complaints about some girl who wasn’t calling him back. He wasn’t paying attention to Kelce’s loud, obnoxious storytelling.

His attention was entirely on you.

You weren’t like the other girls at this party—loud, confident, grasping for attention. You sat just beyond the fire’s reach, curled into yourself, watching the chaos with quiet, careful eyes. You were small in the way something delicate is, all soft edges and unintentional grace, as if you had been plucked from a different world and dropped into this one by mistake. The warm glow of the fire flickered against your skin, bathing you in gold, catching the highlights of your hair like threads of honey spun into silk.

And God—your lips. Soft and pretty, bitten pink as you worried at the corner of your mouth, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the little chain around your neck. You were something meant to be admired, yet somehow, you looked like you wished you could disappear. 

He should have looked away. Should have let the moment pass, let you fade back into the night like seafoam dissolving against the shore. But then someone stumbled too close—some drunk Kook who barely noticed you were there—and the beer in their cup sloshed, spilling over your bare knee.

You flinched. Before Rafe could think about what he was doing, he was already moving.

“You good?” His voice was quieter than usual, smoothed out—missing the usual cocky bite. 

Your head snapped up, eyes wide, cautious. Up close, you were breathtaking. Not in the polished, practiced way of the Kook girls he knew, the ones who spent hours making sure they looked effortless. You were something else—something softer, something untouched. Your sundress, loose and airy, looked vintage, like it had been loved before. A faded ribbon was tied in your hair, a little frayed at the ends. You smelt like coconut and something floral, and you blinked up at him with lashes so long and delicate they cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Oh—uh, yeah,” you murmured, brushing at the damp spot on your knee. Your voice was quiet, hesitant. That Pogue hesitance. Like you weren’t sure why Rafe Cameron was talking to you.

He let out a slow breath, glancing around. “You don’t look like you want to be here.” 

Your lips parted, like you hadn’t expected him to notice.

“Is that obvious?” you asked softly.

“Painfully.” 

The smallest smile flickered at the corner of your mouth. It did something strange to his chest—something he didn’t like.

“I didn’t really have a choice,” you admitted, twisting your necklace between your fingers. “My friends wanted to come.” 

“And you didn’t?” 

You hesitated, then dropped your gaze. “Not really.” 

Rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his jaw, then—fuck it. 

“Wanna leave?” 

Your head jerked up again, your lips parting slightly in surprise.

For a second, he thought you might say no.

And then, you smiled.

©GIRLYRAFE

[syluslnd]

Could you do a scenario of would happen if Sylus found out reader can pole dance? Like maybe he found an old vid of her pole dancing or however you want!🥰 I can't decide if it should be nsfw so you decide too😭 Thank you!

✦ ── .✦ ── .✦ ── .✦ ── .✦ ── .✦ ── ✦

You woke up to the sound of loud, rhythmic music filling the room. Your body jerked to attention, confusion taking over as the beat reverberated in the walls. The bright morning light was still filtering through the curtains but there was no denying the sound that was now flooding the space.

You blinked, still groggy, your brain struggling to piece together what was happening. When your eyes darted to your laptop, the cause of the disturbance immediately hit you like a ton of bricks.

Sylus was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through your laptop, his eyes fixed on the screen. But it wasn't the work files you expected him to be browsing. Instead, there were videos-videos of you. Pole dancing. Professional-level, graceful and shockingly seductive pole dancing.

Your heart skipped a beat. The music continued blasting from the laptop, a song you recognized from the videos. Oh no.

"Sylus" you started, your voice thick with embarrassment as you rubbed your eyes,

"what are you-"

He glanced at you slowly, a wicked glint in his crimson eyes as he took in your confused and shocked expression. His lips curled into a knowing smile and before you could say another word, he raised his finger to your lips.

"Shh" he teased "I'm trying to appreciate the performance." His eyes flicked back to the screen, clearly enjoying the way you were reacting. "I didn't realize you had such a talent."

Your face burned with embarrassment. You quickly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, still half-dazed but fully mortified.

"S-Sylus, can you turn that off?" you asked, trying to hide your face in your hands.

"Please, just-"

But Sylus was already laughing softly, teasing in the most dominant way possible.

"I didn't know about this little secret" he said, clicking his tongue as he looked back at you. "Why didn't you tell me you were so... talented?"

His gaze swept over you in a way that made your pulse spike, his amusement evident in the way his eyes sparkled. "In fact" he said, his voice dropping to something more mischievous "I'm a little upset you didn't invite me to watch sooner kitten."

You tried to hide your face in your hands but the teasing was far from over. "I mean” he continued, his voice low and taunting "I think it's only fair you show me a live performance."

Your eyes shot up at him, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours. "Right now" he added, making a small gesture with his hand, as if the command were just another casual request.

You blinked in disbelief, trying to think of a way to escape. "There's no pole" you said, trying to muster up some cocky attitude, as if the situation wasn't embarrassing enough.

"So, I don't know what you expect me to-"

But before you could finish, Sylus snapped his fingers, and the momentum shifted.

You were frozen in place for a heartbeat, your breath catching in your throat.

Then by using his evol he made a pole appeared right in the center of the room, gleaming and polished.

Your mouth dropped open. There was no escaping this now.

Sylus's smile grew, sharp and predatory.

"There's a pole” he said, his voice filled with mock sweetness. "Now, show me what you've got."

You huffed in annoyance but your body couldn't help but respond to the dominant energy filling the room. Slowly, you slid off the bed, your feet moving to the pole almost involuntarily.

Sylus watched, still seated on the bed, his eyes following your every movement. His gaze never wavered, intense and expectant.

You glared at him, still annoyed but unable to escape his forceful presence. "I don't need you watching me like this” you said, trying to keep some semblance of control.

Sylus just raised an eyebrow. "Ah, ah” he said, lifting his hand as if to stop you. His voice was playful but you could hear the command beneath it. "I believe it would be funner If you'd take something off first,wouldn’t it sweetie?."

You blinked, your frustration rising. "What?"

With another smirk, Sylus pointed to your shirt. "Take it off. I don't think it's needed right now."

You stared at him, your cheeks burning as you hesitated. "You're unbelievable" you muttered but the intensity in his gaze left no room for argument.

You slowly reached for the hem of your shirt, eyes never leaving his. The way he kept his gaze on you kept you under his control and there was a part of you that couldn't resist,couldn't ignore the power he had over you. Slowly, you removed the shirt, the action feeling almost disobedient but irresistible all at once.

Sylus's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Good girl" he murmured, his voice now thick with an emotion you couldn't quite place-appreciation? Desire? You didn't know but it felt like something far deeper than a mere tease.

"Now" he said, leaning forward slightly.

"Dance for me."

You rolled your eyes in mock defiance but you could feel the heat of the room, the weight of his gaze. You had no choice but to dance and as your body moved, the sensation of his control hovered over you, making every twist and turn feel like an indulgence and an obedience all at once.

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 26. just close the door

word count: ~1.3k words + 8 screenshots

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, jake and hoon hate each other, lil bit voyeurish (spoilers), very suggestive

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You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you hear the floor creak outside your bedroom. The muffled sounds of FIFA commentary and Jay’s loud complaints about Sunghoon “playing like a coward” still fill the living room, but you know he’s near. You told him to come find you, and now you’re waiting, stomach twisting with anticipation.

Then, a soft knock.

"Are you gonna let me in, or was that just a power play?" His voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it—a quiet challenge.

You smirk, crossing your arms. "You found my door. Congratulations. Now what?"

"Depends," he says, already pushing it open just enough to slip inside. "You locking it or am I?"

His eyes meet yours, dark and amused. He’s standing too close, just barely inside the room, like he’s testing the waters. You roll your eyes and kick the door shut with your foot, reaching over to twist the lock.

Sunghoon grins. "Oh, so this is what we’re doing?"

"You’re the one who came."

He lets out a low chuckle, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he leans back against the door. "You told me to."

"And you listened."

He raises a brow. "Of course I did."

The tension in the room is immediate, thick enough that you can almost hear it buzzing between you. Every single detail feels too much—the way he’s watching you, the slow, lazy way he shifts his weight, the sharp line of his jaw when he smirks like that.

You should not be thinking about his jaw.

"So?" you say, forcing yourself to move, sitting on the edge of your bed, pretending your heart isn’t hammering in your chest. "How’d you even escape? Jungwon hates losing."

Sunghoon scoffs, pushing off the door. "I told them I had to take a call."

"A call?"

"A very urgent one." He leans down, bracing himself on your bed, his face way too close to yours. "From you."

You snort. "You’re ridiculous."

"You love it."

You tilt your head, biting your lip. "That’s a strong word."

"But not an incorrect one."

You laugh, shaking your head, but before you can reply, he reaches out and tugs at the hem of your hoodie. His fingers brush against the fabric, just barely ghosting over your skin. It’s such a small movement, but it sends a jolt of electricity straight through you.

You freeze. He doesn’t move away.

Your breath hitches, and when you glance up, his eyes are already on your lips.

"Y’know," he murmurs, his voice lower now, rougher. "You never told me why you wanted me here."

You swallow. "Maybe I just wanted to see you."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe," you whisper.

He gets closer, and suddenly, you’re very aware of the fact that there’s barely any space left between you. Your back hits the edge of your mattress, and he leans in, just enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne—something clean, slightly sweet, dizzying.

"Are you nervous?" he asks.

You scoff. "Of you?"

"Of this," he murmurs.

You should say no. You should roll your eyes and laugh and tell him he’s full of himself. But you can’t, because the truth is, you are nervous. Nervous of how badly you want this. You wet your lips. His gaze flickers down again, his breath coming a little sharper now.

"You keep looking at me like that," you murmur, "and I might start thinking you actually want to kiss me."

He exhales a quiet laugh. "Maybe I do."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe," he echoes, eyes dark. "You gonna let me?"

You should tease him. You should make him suffer for it, drag this moment out longer just because you can. But you don’t. You don’t want to.

Instead, you grab the front of his hoodie and pull.

Sunghoon crashes into you, his hands finding your waist as his lips meet yours—soft at first, hesitant, like he’s testing the waters. But then you sigh against his mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, and that’s it. He groans, deep and low, tilting his head as he kisses you harder, more desperate now, like he’s been holding back for too long.

You melt against him, letting him press you back onto the bed, his weight warm and solid above you. His hands splay across your hips, fingers digging in slightly like he doesn’t want to let go. You gasp when he bites at your bottom lip, and he laughs, pulling away just enough to murmur, "I knew you’d like it."

You smack his arm. "Shut up."

"Make me."

So you do.

Your fingers tangle in Sunghoon’s hair as he kisses you deeper, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. There’s nothing hesitant about it anymore—he kisses you like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s been thinking about this for way too long. And maybe he has.

His tongue brushes against yours, and you swear you feel him smirk when you let out a tiny, breathless sigh.

"Cocky," you murmur against his lips.

He hums, nipping at your bottom lip again, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. "You like it."

You do. God, you do.

Your back hits the mattress as he leans over you, his weight warm and solid, the room suddenly too hot and too small. His lips trail down, moving along your jaw, just below your ear, and your breath hitches when you feel him grin against your skin.

"Sunghoon," you whisper.

"Hm?"

He’s still kissing you, still touching you, and you know you should tell him to slow down—should remind him that he literally has an audience waiting in the next room—but it’s hard to think straight when he’s right here, making you feel like you’re the only thing that matters.

His hands slip under the hem of your hoodie, just barely grazing your skin, and you swear you feel him shiver.

And then—

"BRO WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Sunghoon freezes.

Jay’s voice. From the living room. Loud. Suspicious.

Then comes Jungwon: "YOU’RE LITERALLY SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING A CALL?!"

Sunghoon’s forehead drops against your shoulder.

"Oh my god," you whisper, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"I hate them," he mutters, voice muffled against your hoodie.

"You should probably go before they come looking for you."

Sunghoon groans, but he still doesn’t move. His hands are still on your waist, his knee is still pressed between your legs, and his breath is still fanning over your neck, making it very difficult to think about anything else.

And then—

"BRO, IF YOU’RE IN THE BATHROOM, AT LEAST FLUSH!"

Taesan, this time.

Sunghoon jumps up so fast he almost falls off the bed.

"Those idiots…" He runs a hand through his hair, glaring at the door like he can incinerate them with his mind. You’re dying trying not to laugh.

"You’re the idiot for thinking they wouldn’t notice," you tease, still sprawled out on the bed, watching as he hastily straightens his hoodie.

Sunghoon glares at you. "You’re not helping."

You smirk, propping yourself up on your elbows. "You could just stay here and let them figure it out on their own."

His eyes flicker to your lips, and for a second, you think he’s actually considering it. Sunghoon sighs so dramatically that you have to bury your face in your hands to keep from absolutely losing it.

"This is so unfair," he grumbles, stepping toward the door. Before he unlocks it, though, he glances back at you, eyes dark, lips still red from kissing you.

"Don’t think this is over," he says.

You grin. "Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it."

And with that, he disappears, leaving you lying on your bed, heartbeat still racing, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to act normal after that.

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author's note: OK THAT CHAPTER MADE ME BLUSH. EVEN THOUGH IM THE ONE WHO WROTE IT.... next chapter is out on monday!! after the super bowl... im lowkey rooting for the chiefs ngl.... cry eagles cry....

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama @enhastars @immelissaaa @pjselee @hexnoia @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @love-4-keum @doublebunv @minfolio @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @doveblackboat @psychotic-girl-666 @kukkurookkoo @allie-mcginn @jkslvsnella @wintereals @why4anne @jakesfurry 

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?”

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . flirting with the chic nerd turns into something else ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 32OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY �� cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ happy jeongin day! <3 thought this fic will end up too long (no surprise there..) so instead i'm turning into another series. ik i update all my series very slowly BUT listen, i will post freq. for this since it's a mini series !! this is pretty fast-paced, for the first chapter though. the upcoming ones may be slow-paced and not rush tho hehe. comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the autumn air was crisp, golden leaves swirling across the university courtyard as students hurried to their morning classes. the faint scent of coffee and fallen leaves lingered in the air, mixing with the distant hum of chatter and footsteps against cobblestone paths. it was the kind of morning that made people pause for a second, taking in the poetry of the season—well, people who weren’t already running late.

you weren't late, but you sure weren’t in a rush either. the café near the library had just handed over your classic hot cocoa, still warm against your palms, and the world felt like it was moving at a slow, dreamy pace.

that was, until a familiar figure cut through the crowd like a scene straight out of a high-fashion editorial.

yang jeongin.

jeongin, the so-called nerd, of at least your year. the one with the perfect grades, the sharp jawline, and the ever-present black glasses perched on his nose. the one people assumed spent all his time buried in textbooks, immune to the chaos of university life. except, he wasn’t just a nerd—he was a walking contradiction.

because if jeongin was just a nerd, why was he stepping onto campus dressed like he belonged on a runway?

today, it was a black oversized blazer with a fitted turtleneck, silver rings glinting against his slender fingers as he adjusted the leather strap of his bag. his glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of quiet arrogance, like he knew he looked good but didn’t care enough to acknowledge it.

his dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just stepped out of bed looking effortlessly perfect. and the way he walked—like the world was just a backdrop, and he was the main character—made people stare without even realizing they were doing it.

jeongin definitely had an idgaf attitude, you had thought when you first shared a class. not towards his studies—no, he was practically married to academic excellence—but towards people.

he didn’t care for the unnecessary drama, the loud parties, or the fleeting conversations about nothing. he had a small, trusted circle and didn’t entertain anyone outside of it.

which was exactly why you found it so fun to mess with him.

“morning, topper,” you called out, stepping in line with him as he made his way toward the lecture hall. “where’s the rest of your nerd squad?”

jeongin barely spared you a glance. “not a nerd,” he replied smoothly.

“yeah?” you sipped your cocoa, unfazed. “you literally corrected our professor’s math last week.”

“he was wrong,” the guy shrugged.

“yeah, but who does that?”

“a person who values accuracy,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching slightly.

you simply grinned, as you walked alongside him. your friend group always teased you for hanging around jeongin, saying you were probably the only person brave enough to bother the university’s golden boy.

he wasn’t mean, exactly, but he had a way of making people feel like they weren’t worth his time.

which was true regardless.

still, you had made it your personal mission to crack his icy exterior.

“so,” you continued, “you ever been on a date, topper?”

he slowed his pace. it was so brief that most people wouldn’t have noticed, but you caught the slight hesitation before he turned to you, raising a perfectly shaped brow.

“what?”

“a date. you know—dressing up, awkward small talk, trying to impress someone so they don’t ghost you after?” you clarified, voice laced with amusement.

jeongin adjusted his glasses, looking unimpressed. “i know what a date is.”

“great! so, have you been on one?”

for a second, he just stared at you, dark eyes unreadable behind his lenses. then, in a tone so nonchalant it almost sounded careless, he said, “no.”

you almost choked on your drink. “wait, seriously?”

he continued walking, unfazed. “yeah. why? is that surprising?”

“duh?” you huffed, catching up. “you’re, like, weirdly hot for a nerd. i thought people would be throwing themselves at you.”

he scoffed. “that’s the problem. i don’t care about people throwing themselves at me.”

you tilted your head. “then what do you care about?”

he continued walking, completely nonchalant as he gazed up. the morning sun caught the silver of his rings as he slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly.

“why?” he mused, voice smooth as ever. “you wanna change that?”

you blinked. for the first time, you were the one caught off guard.

because jeongin wasn’t looking at you with his usual passive expression. no, there was something in his gaze—something sharp, something challenging, something that almost looked like interest.

and you, for the first time in your life, had no idea what to say.

flirting with a nerd shouldn’t be this hard.

the crisp morning air suddenly felt warmer.

you were not the type to get flustered easily, but the way jeongin had just looked at you—head tilted, hands in his pockets, voice smooth as hell—all the while walking straight ahead as if he hadn't just lowkey flirted with you—wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t nerdy. it wasn’t normal. it wasn’t jeongin.

since when did nerds flirt back?

you narrowed your eyes, stepping closer to mask your sudden loss of composure. “that sounded like a challenge.”

“maybe it is.”

you blinked. okay. this was new territory. you were used to jeongin rolling his eyes at you, shutting down your playful jabs with a bored look. not this. not him flipping the script so effortlessly.

but two could play that game.

“well, topper,” you hummed, leaning in slightly, “if you want me to take you on a date, you should just say so.”

his smirk didn’t waver, but you caught the quick flicker of his eyes—the way they darted to your lips before meeting your gaze again. he adjusted his glasses, his fingers briefly brushing against the silver rings.

“i don’t recall saying that,” he mused.

you grinned. “you didn’t deny it, though.”

jeongin exhaled through his nose, amused, before turning back toward the lecture hall. “come on. we’re already late.”

you watched him walk ahead, your heartbeat a little too loud in your ears.

what the hell just happened?

— inside the lecture hall

the class was already half-full when you and jeongin entered, the air buzzing with lazy morning energy. some students were half-asleep, slumped over their desks, while others were whispering about weekend plans.

the professor hadn’t arrived yet, but the massive whiteboard was already filled with equations from an earlier class—long, intimidating numbers that you barely had the mental energy to comprehend.

you spotted your some of your friends near the middle rows. felix, ryujin, and yeji were sitting together, with an empty seat next to the blonde. across the hall, the nerd's own 'gang'—jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri and yunah—was all huddled near the front.

as you slid into the seat next to felix, he raised an eyebrow. “you were talking to jeongin again?”

“yeah?”

he leaned in, lowering his voice. “bae. people actually think he hates, like, everyone.”

you scoffed, unbothered. “well, i’m built different.”

ryujin, who was casually scrolling on her phone, smirked. “or maybe you just like hot twi— nerds.”

“he's not tw—”

yeji cut you off, nudging the other two. “what’s the bet again?”

felix only grinned. “y/n would either break jeongin’s cold exterior or completely embarrass herself trying.”

“so far, it’s leaning toward the second one.”

you groaned, shoving felix’s arm. “so i'm as valuable as a bet now?”

meanwhile, across the room, jeongin was already in his seat, casually flipping through his notes. jisung nudged him with an exaggerated smirk.

“was y/n hitting on you again?”

jeongin adjusted his glasses. “probably.”

seungmin, looking unimpressed, leaned back in his chair. “and you just let her?”

jeongin shrugged. “she's entertaining.”

aeri cackled. “you so have a crush.”

“i don’t.”

“right, right.” jisung rolled his eyes. “that’s why you’re smirking to yourself like a roblox character right now?”

jeongin’s smirk immediately disappeared. “shut up.”

— after class, the campus café

after suffering through an hour of math (or thriving through it, if you were jeongin), you found yourself at the campus café, sipping on some watermelon juice you had gotten. the café was a cozy little spot near the library, filled with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of coffee cups. the warm lighting made the wooden interior glow, and the air smelled like cinnamon and espresso.

you were sitting with felix and ryujin when jeongin entered.

of course, he looked annoyingly good again.

and of course, he had changed his attire after class.

noon's outfit: a fitted cream turtleneck under a tailored charcoal gray coat, paired with black trousers and sleek leather boots. his silver rings caught the light as he pushed his glasses up, scanning the menu like he wasn’t aware half the café was stealing glances at him.

you sighed dramatically. “does he ever look bad?”

felix smirked. “that’s what you’re worried about?”

“no, i’m worried about myself, because apparently, i’m developing a thing for well-dressed nerds.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “oh? so you admit it?”

at that moment, jeongin’s gaze flickered over to you. your eyes met. and instead of just nodding or ignoring you like usual, he did something that nearly made you drop your drink.

he smiled.

not a smirk. not a teasing glance. a smile. dimples and all.

you blinked, stunned.

felix leaned in, whispering, “oh. you’re so done for.”

and for the second time today, you really had nothing to say.

the art of losing (to a nerd).

jeongin had smiled at you.

not a smirk, not an i’m-better-than-you glance, but an actual smile. dimples, soft eyes, the whole deal.

you were losing your mind.

“i—what—he—” you sputtered, gripping your juice like it held the answers to the universe. “did he just smile at me?”

felix sipped his iced coffee with an amused look. “yup.”

ryujin smirked, barely glancing up from her phone. “congratulations. you’re officially the first person outside of his nerd cult to get that privilege.”

“oh lord.”

across the café, jeongin had already turned back to the counter, unfazed. he ordered his usual—black coffee, no sugar—before casually making his way to a corner booth. he moved so effortlessly, extremely nonchalant.

you, however, were still stuck on that smile.

what did it mean? was he just being polite? was he messing with you? did he—

felix snapped his fingers in front of your face. “hello? earth to y/n? you’re staring.”

you blinked. “i am not.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you totally are.”

felix leaned in, grinning. “wait. wait. are you blushing?”

“no.”

“you’re so done for,”

“first stage of denial: over.”

“i hate the both of you.”

. . .

a few days later, you were at the campus library, attempting to study. spoiler: it wasn’t going well.

the problem?

a nerd sitting across from you.

it wasn’t planned. you had been minding your own business, laptop open, notes spread out, when jeongin had materialized in front of you, dropping his books onto the table with an air of casual dominance.

“reserved seats don’t exist,” he had said when you had gaped at him.

so now, here you were. stuck at the same table, trying (and failing) to ignore each other.

you tapped your pen against your notebook, sneaking a glance at him. he was focused, dark eyes scanning the textbook like it was the most interesting thing in the world. his glasses slid down slightly, and he absentmindedly pushed them back up with a knuckle.

how was it possible for a nerd to look so effortlessly cool?

“you’re staring.”

you flinched. “observing.”

jeongin didn’t even look up. “creeping.”

you huffed, crossing your arms. “you are so full of yourself.”

a smirk. “you’re the one staring, not me.”

you scowled, ready to retort, when an idea hit them. a terrible, wonderful idea.

you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “you know,” you mused, “if you ever need a break from all that.. nerding, i can take you on a date.”

jeongin finally looked up, raising a brow. “are you seriously flirting with me in the library?”

“why? is it working?”

a pause. then—

jeongin leaned in too.

too close. close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—something woody, expensive, unfairly attractive.

“you tell me,” he murmured.

your brain short-circuited.

felix was right. you were so done for.

. . .

you had two rules in life.

1. never get involved in unnecessary drama. 2. never—ever—fall for a nerd.

unfortunately, han jisung existed solely to ruin both of those.

the set-up (aka jisung's dumb idea)

"so, uh… i kind of need a favor."

jisung plopped down beside you in the campus café, grinning like he hadn’t just uttered the most dangerous words in existence.

you, munching on a cookie, didn’t bother looking up from the textbook you were pretending to read simultaneously. "no."

"you don’t even know what i’m asking."

"i know it’s stupid."

jisung pouted. "wow. no faith in me at all?"

you finally sighed, setting the cookie down. "fine. what’s the favor?"

jisung clapped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. "so, jeongin has this family thing coming up, right?"

"okay… and?"

jisung leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal a government secret. "his parents keep nagging him about dating."

"and why is that my problem?"

jisung grinned. "because you’re fake-dating him now!"

silence.

you stared. "i’m what?"

"you heard me."

at that exact moment, jeongin—who had just arrived at the café (wow magic) —froze mid-step. he turned to jisung with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

"what are you doing? no!"

jisung pouted. "come on, dude. your mom keeps asking about your nonexistent girlfriend, and y/n is perfect for this!"

you smirked, propping your chin on your hand. "perfect, hm?"

jeongin shot you a flat look. "don’t."

jisung, ignoring him, continued excitedly, "think about it! y/n’s hot, pretty, you two already bicker like an old married couple, and—"

jeongin cut him off. "i’d rather die."

"well, damn," you muttered, feigning offense. "you could at least pretend to be a little enthusiastic about fake-dating me."

jeongin turned to you, unimpressed. "i’d rather explain quantum mechanics to a toddler than date you."

you grinned. "you know quantum mechanics?"

"that’s not the point."

jisung threw his hands up. "guys! focus! jeongin, do you want your mom setting you up with random girls?"

jeongin clenched his jaw. he hated when his mom did that. every family event ended with some aunt introducing him to their neighbor’s niece, followed by exhausting small talk and forced compliments.

his eyes flickered to you, watching him with that stupidly smug smile. you probably weren’t taking this seriously, right?

good.

because he wasn’t doing it.

"no," he finally said. "not happening."

jisung groaned. "dude. it’s one dinner."

"still no."

you leaned in, resting your elbow on the table. "you’re really against the idea of dating me?"

jeongin exhaled, looking you dead in the eye. "fake or not, i wouldn’t date you if you were the last person on earth."

you grinned. "good. that means i can flirt all i want, and you totally won’t get attached, right?"

"oh yeah? wanna bet on it?"

"oh you're on, yang. i'll flirt with you as much as i want for-"

he cuts you off, "-one month. a whole week of me buying you snacks and lunch on the line. if you win."

"hmm, scared much? why not make it three months and i'll actually leave you alone after it all?"

"oh this is fun." jisung only stared between the two.

"bet."

jisung clapped his hands together. "so it's settled! you two are fake-dating!"

"i never agreed to this," jeongin muttered.

you simply took another bite of your cookie. "too late, topper. we have a date to plan."

jeongin swore under his breath.

this was going to be a disaster.

. . .

the night of the dinner came faster than jeongin would’ve liked.

you, unfortunately, were thriving.

"so, babe," you teased, nudging him as you walked toward the fancy restaurant where his family was waiting. "are we holding hands or what?"

jeongin shot you a glare. "no."

you pouted dramatically. "you’re so bad at this."

"i don’t want to be good at this."

you sighed. "fine. but i am calling you ‘babe’ in front of your parents."

jeongin stopped walking. "don’t."

you smirked. "babe."

jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples.

this was hell.

so, the second you stepped in, jeongin’s mom beamed.

"iyennie! you made it!"

you nearly choked. iyennie?

jeongin shot you a look that screamed, say a word and you die.

you, of course, took mental notes for future bullying.

his mother, looking as happy as ever, turned to you, eyes lighting up. "and this must be your girlfriend!"

you smiled sweetly, reaching for jeongin’s arm. "yes, ma’am! i’ve heard so much about you."

jeongin stiffened. his actual nightmare was happening.

his mom clapped her hands together. "oh, she’s adorable! and so polite!"

jeongin shot you a glare.

y/n, in response, squeezed his arm.

. . .

the dinner had barely started, and jeongin already wanted to disappear.

his mom was in full hosting mode, greeting everyone at the long, beautifully decorated table like she was running a royal banquet. his dad, more relaxed but equally nosy, sat at the head of the table, eyeing jeongin and you like you two were the most interesting thing in the world.

and then, of course, there were the relatives.

the visiting relatives.

which jeongin had not been informed about.

"aunt nae is here?" he whispered to his mom in horror as they took their seats.

"of course! she and minji wanted to see you, and they had to meet your girlfriend," his mom whispered back, beaming.

jeongin shot a look at you, who was way too comfortable in this situation, greeting his relatives like you'd been part of the family for years.

he exhaled sharply. this is fine. one dinner.

you turned to him, grinning. "jeonginnie, babe, scoot closer."

jeongin flinched. "what the hell did you just call me?"

"jeonginnie," you repeated, full of amusement, before turning to his mom. "it’s my nickname for him. cute, right?"

his mom melted. "oh, that’s adorable!"

jeongin clenched his jaw, gripping his fork like it was his last lifeline.

you were having the time of your life.

"so, y/n," jeongin’s dad started, leaning back in his chair. "tell us about yourself. what are you studying?"

you smiled, setting your chopsticks down. "music and literature."

jeongin’s mom clasped her hands together. "oh! a creative soul!"

jeongin muttered under his breath, "more like a chaotic soul."

you kicked him under the table. he barely held in a grunt.

one of jeongin’s aunts, a well-dressed woman in her late fifties, eyed you curiously. "and how did you two meet?"

before jeongin could stop you, you smoothly responded, "in the library. he was too shy to talk to me at first, so i had to make the first move. such a baby, right?"

jeongin nearly choked on his water. "that’s not—"

"oh, my," one of the older relatives gushed. "that’s so cute!"

"it really was," you continued, ignoring jeongin’s silent death glare. "he kept glancing at me over his books. adorable. my little nerd."

jeongin took a slow, deep breath. "lying is a sin, you know."

you turned to him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "so is being grumpy at your loving girlfriend, babe."

jeongin gritted his teeth. "i hate you."

"no, you don’t."

the rest of the table ate this up.

minji, his cousin, sighed dreamily. "you two are so cute together."

jeongin gave you a sharp look that screamed, look what you’ve done.

you only smirked.

and so, the dinner continued, filled with stories, laughter, and jeongin’s silent suffering.

until his father, casually sipping his drink, said, "we should invite y/n to the family trip next month."

silence.

jeongin’s brain short-circuited.

"excuse me?"

his dad smiled. "the family trip! your mom and i were just talking about it the other day. since y/n is part of the family now, she should come!"

jeongin nearly passed out.

you, on the other hand, simply blinked. "family trip?"

"oh, yes!" his mom clapped her hands together. "a whole week at the beach! we go every year, but this time, you’ll be joining us!"

jeongin stared at them in horror. "no, she won’t."

"of course, she will," his dad said firmly.

"we’ve only been dating for a few months!" jeongin protested.

his mom tilted her head. "so?"

"so?! that’s too soon for a family trip!"

you, who had been silent, leaned in slightly. "i mean, i do like the beach."

jeongin whipped his head toward them. "are you kidding me?"

you smirked. "what? i think it could be fun, babe."

jeongin clenched his fists. "i hate you." (keep counting guys !!)

"no, you don’t."

the table broke into excited chatter about the trip, completely ignoring jeongin’s very obvious distress.

this wasn’t happening.

this couldn’t be happening.

but it was.

and you were enjoying every second of it.

. . .

the evening air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the restaurant. the soft glow of the streetlights cast elongated shadows on the pavement, flickering with the occasional movement of people walking past. somewhere down the street, a car honked, followed by the muffled laughter of a group of university students spilling out of a nearby café.

none of that mattered to jeongin.

because he was currently standing outside the restaurant, rubbing his face aggressively while you stood beside him, grinning like you had just won the lottery.

as soon as you had left the restaurant, he had dragged you to the side, glaring.

"you just had to play along?"

you shrugged. "what was i supposed to do? say no and make it obvious?"

"yes!"

you smirked, tapping your chin. "hmm… too boring."

jeongin groaned, rubbing his temples. "this was supposed to be one night."

"well," you said cheerfully, "looks like we’re fake-dating for a month now. hope you’re ready, iyennie. oh, and this doesn't mean our bet is off the line now."

jeongin groaned louder.

this was hell.

"you're enjoying this," he accused, voice flat, eyes burning into them.

you smoothed the skirt of your blue, satin dress, pretending to think. "maybe a bit."

jeongin shot you a glare.

okay, a full-blown murderous glare.

you, still entirely unbothered, placed a hand on your hip. "i don’t see why you’re mad. i mean, a free vacation? beachside views? quality time with your loving girlfriend?" you batted your lashes. "i’d say that’s a win."

jeongin exhaled through his nose. "a win would be me never having to fake-date you in the first place."

you gasped dramatically. "that hurts, iyennie."

jeongin physically recoiled. "don’t call me that."

"aww, but it’s cute." you tilted your head, smirking. "just like you."

jeongin’s entire body tensed. "i hate you." (what did i tell you?)

"no, you don’t."

"besides, you could've asked any other girl for this whole.. fake dating agenda, you know. but you didn't, so i think that's very contradictory to your complains right now."

"you think i had a choice when jisung practically threatened me there in the first place?"

"please, you could reject it if you really wanted to. that man would forget about it if minho appeared randomly."

jeongin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "this was supposed to be one night. one dinner. one stupid meal, and then i could go back to my normal, peaceful life."

"peaceful? dude, you have two research papers due, a physics exam next week, and you literally stress-buy sweaters. what part of that is peaceful?"

"shut up," he muttered.

"aww, did i strike a nerve?"

jeongin clenched his jaw. "let’s just go."

"go where?"

jeongin pointed to his car. "i drove you here, remember? which means, unfortunately, i have to drop you home, too."

"aww, you care about my safety, now? such a great boyfriend."

"no, darling, i just don’t want my mom thinking i abandoned you on the side of the road."

you gasped, pressing a hand to your heart. "cold, iyennie. cold."

jeongin ignored her and walked to his car.

jeongin’s car was clean. of course it was.

dark leather seats, faint traces of cologne and fresh laundry lingering in the air, a neatly placed water bottle in the cup holder, and absolutely no mess in sight. it was exactly what you had expected from someone like jeongin—controlled, neat, meticulous.

you, on the other hand, sprawled in the passenger seat like you had all the time in the world, kicking off your heels with a sigh.

"ugh, finally," you said, stretching your legs. "i swear, those things were invented by a man."

jeongin side-eyed them as he started the car. "you chose to wear them."

"yeah, because i actually put effort into my appearance, especially because i was meeting my boyfriend's family, you know. not to mention, i also had to match someone's peak of fashion sense."

you looked him up and down, eyes dragging over his outfit. "speaking of, i gotta admit, you looked kind of good tonight, nerd."

jeongin, dressed in a perfectly fitted black button-up (with the sleeves slightly rolled, because of course), navy slacks, and a silver watch that sat just right on his wrist, kept his eyes on the road. "kind of?"

"mhm. but don’t let it go to your head."

jeongin clicked his tongue. "too late."

you laughed, leaning against the window. "so, when were you going to tell me you had a whole extended family coming to dinner?"

jeongin let out a deep sigh. "i didn’t know."

"mm-hmm."

"i didn’t. if i had known, i would’ve never agreed to this in the first place."

"bet your mom planned it on purpose,"

jeongin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. "oh, she definitely did."

silence filled the car, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound between them. the city lights flickered past, casting patterns of gold and silver against the windshield. the streets, alive with late-night chatter and the occasional honk, blurred into the background.

you shifted, turning to face him. "so, what’s the plan?"

jeongin frowned. "what plan?"

"you know, the fake-dating plan? we need a strategy."

jeongin blinked. "we don’t need a strategy. we just—" he exhaled. "we just survive the trip, act normal, and then break up after."

you gasped. "break up? so soon?"

jeongin shot you a look. "we are not actually dating, idiot."

"but think of the drama!" you grinned. "we could stage a messy breakup—throw some fake tears in, maybe have a whole 'it’s not you, it’s me' moment—"

"no."

you pouted. "boring."

jeongin rolled his eyes. "you are the most insufferable person i’ve ever met."

"and yet, here you are, fake dating me. out of every girl in town."

jeongin groaned. "i hate my life."

you smirked, playing with the edge of your dress. "no, you don’t."

. . .

when you finally pulled up in front of the women's uni dorm building, jeongin parked and rested his head against the seat, exhausted.

"alright, we’re here. get out."

you gasped. "no goodnight kiss?"

"out."

you laughed, wearing your heels back and stepping out. before closing the door, you leaned down slightly, peering inside. "sweet dreams, iyennie. don’t miss me too much."

jeongin glared. "i will actually block your number."

you winked. "you wish you could."

and with that, you shut the door and disappeared into the building, leaving jeongin staring after you, questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[voidangxls]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ A Valentines Party ʚ♡ɞ

╰┈➤ a part of my valentines special!

pairings(s)- Eddie Munson x reader

Summary- The popular kids never miss out on an opportunity to throw a huge party, it was valentines and you have an unexpected interaction with an unexpected person.

category- fluff

warnings- alcohol consumption, kinda popular!reader, cheek kiss, not proofread

word count: 2336

masterlist; valentines special; stranger things masterlist

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

You dancing in the middle of Jason Carvers living room, surrounded by different bodies of people you go to school. The house was decorated in pink and red, hearts, streamers, clearly the work of his girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham.

The music was loud and the red lighting had been messing with you but as you drink on the cup of alcohol in your hand you slowly stopped caring. Everyone, more specifically the girls were dressed cutely for the aesthetic of valentines day, you were in a short spaghetti strap dress that had a double layered skirt paired with a black oversized leather jacket and black platform heels. You were dancing freely with your best friend, the both of you had one drink in you and were ready for the rest of the night.

You then still and tap your friend on the shoulder “i’m gonna go get another drink, do you want one?” you lean in and yell over the music. She nods and looks at you with a grateful smile “Yeah, thank you” she responds

You nod and weave your way around dancing bodies so you could get to the kitchen. A couple of people said hellos, now you weren’t necessarily popular. You weren’t like Chrissy Cunningham or Jason Carver but you were known by most of the school because of your involvement. You weren’t looked down on, or praised, or ignored, you were something somewhere in between.

As the night went on you’ve had 2 drinks while your friend has had plenty. You had to pee but you didn’t want to leave alone so you made her follow you and wait outside of the bathroom while you peed. Once you were inside of the bathroom you called out to her as you pull up your dress “stay right there, okay?”

But when you walked out of the bathroom you weren’t met with your friend and her drunken state, instead you were met with a mop of dark curly hair and a leather jacket. You look around the hall but come empty handed so you look back at the mop of curly hair standing in the hallway, also known as Eddie Munson also known as freak of the town. “Did you see her?” you ask hurriedly. You knew your friend could get kinda reckless when drunk so to say you were worried was an understatement.

Eddie looks at you in surprise for a moment, shocked that you were talking to him then he answers “see who?”

You groan slightly and look at him “There was a girl standing right here and shes very drunk. She was supposed to wait there until I got out of the bathroom” you tell him quickly, moving your hands theatrically.

“um n-no I didn’t. When I got up here no one was here” he responds, shaking his head side to side causing his curls to move slightly in the air. You throw your head back and run a hand through your hair “fuck” you whisper to yourself

“you lost your drunk friend?” he asks and you look at him and nod with an exasperated look. Sighing you behind to walk away but you are cut off when his voice calls back out to you “I can help you look for he “ he says.

You turn around and face him in shock “really?” you ask him.

Of course you knew Eddie Munson, the entire town of Hawkins knew who he was. He was a freak, or at least thats what everyone said. You didn’t think so, in your eyes he was just another person who had interest and expressed his interests. When Eddie Munson first began getting bullied for his interest and who he is you did research on some of the things he liked. None of it seemed demonic like your peers and their parents seemed, if you were being completely honest it seemed kinda interesting.

Of course Eddie Munson knew who you were. You were apart of the Schools yearbook team so you were known, you even took pictures of Hellfire club once. Although they didn’t get much in the yearbook, but he knew that wasn’t in your control. He was pretty sure you were the only person in his life aside from his uncle and his freak of friends that was ever civil to him. Sure you didn’t go out of your way to speak to him or anything and he was pretty sure the two of you had a total of 3 interactions in your entire life but they were all friendly and kind unlike everyone else.

The first interaction had been truly life changing for Eddie even though he wouldn’t admit that. A couple of the basketball boys wouldn’t leave him alone in the school hallway, they had kept nagging him but then you swooped in. You walked up with your camera in hand, the strap of it around your neck with a smile on your face. “boys, can I take your picture for yearbook?” you ask, standing in between him and the guys, looking only at the basketball players. They look at you with a smirk and nod, walking away. As you guys are walking away you turn around and gave him a wink pared with a smirk. You did that so they would leave him alone.

The second time was when you politely asked if you could take a couple photos of Hellfire during a game for yearbook. He said yes and the next Hellfire practice you were there with your camera but you were in and out in 5 minutes.

and then the last time it was just a simple smile when the two of you made eye contact in class.

“Yeah of course” he responds, walking closer to you. Once he’s next to you he looks down and confirms “Ashley Davis, right?” he asks

“yeah” you respond quietly.

Eddie nods down at you with a small smile. He felt like doing this was somewhat a way of repaying you for being one of the only kind people in his life, even if you guys didn’t have any kind of relationship with the other. “So if either of us find her, where do we meet up?” he asks, bouncing slightly on his feet

“um, Outside? Like the front of the house?” You say in a questioning tone, making sure it was also okay for him.

“Yeah, yeah okay” He nods, his smile growing slightly bigger as he continues to talk to you. You both then part your separate ways, the two of looking for your best friend Ashley.

After a little time passed you couldn’t find her and you were starting to worry. You decides that you would peak outside just to see if Eddie had found her and was out there waiting yet. When you peaked out today the front door you saw the one and only Eddie Munson trying to hold your friend upright.

“Thank god” you sigh stressfully, speed walking towards the pair. once you arrive in front of Eddie who carried Ashely you took Ashley from his arms and let him lean on you. “thank you so much, for helping me” you thank him while stumbling slightly because of your friends dead weight leaning on you.

“have you had anything to drink?” Eddie asks you with his hands in his pockets. You feel your friend shivering in your arms slightly. “Ive had like 2 drinks. Can you hold her for a second” You say while passing Ashley over to him “Eddie Munson?” slurs in a mumble.

You reach up and slip your leather jacket off of your shoulders and take a step forward to Ashley. “Hey, put this on” you tell her as you maneuver her arms into the jacket

“Do you need a ride home?” Eddie asks, looking down at the girls with a thoughtful expression. He didn’t want either of you driving while intoxicated, he didn’t drink since he was here doing business. He also couldn’t help but smile when seeing you do something so simple but so generous for your friend.

As you put your jacket on your friend you think about the proposition. “I don’t want to disrupt” you dismiss, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to pressure you or anything but it’s really no trouble. If you don’t want to it’s fine, I just thought I should offer” Eddie responds nervously. For some reason you made him nervous, only you, not the popular cheerleaders, or the uptight rich moms who gossiped about him, not the basketball players, you were the only one that truly made him nervous. He wanted to help you in any way he could and one of those ways could be giving you and your very drunk friend a ride home.

“are you sure?” you look up at him and ask, your brows furrowing.

“yeah, of course” Eddie assures with a nod

“okay” you whisper, sitting your friend up straighter in your arms following him to his car. Did you trust Eddie? for some reason yes but he was still a stranger and you did have a pocket knife in your purse if you needed to use it.

He leads you to the car, opening the back door so you could sit your friend in and then opening the passenger side door for you. You shiver slightly because of the chill in the air. “madam” Eddie says as he opens the door for you. You let out a small laugh and get inside of the car.

Eddie gets in the van and starts it but before he could pull away from the house he takes off his leather jacket. “here” he tells you, holding out his jacket for you. You look over at him surprise, trying to hold in your shivers “I can see your cold, you gave her your jacket and I don’t want to see you freeze” he looks over at you and tells you in a surprisingly soft voice.

During the drive to your friends house you gave him directions but other then that the two of you talked about the party, yearbook club, and hellfire club.

You guys arrive in Ashleys neighborhood, not quite at her house yet and Eddie speaks “think of this as me repaying you” he tells you, taking a quick peak at you, smile stuck on his face. You look over at him quickly with a confused expression “why would you need to repay me?” you scoff out a laugh

“Being kind to me, and getting the guys off my back once” he responds

You then let out a slight laugh and your eyes stay on him “You don’t need to repay me for that, thats the bare minimum. They’re jerks” you tell him with a dismissive shrug

“yeah but I don’t get the bare minimum, so it means a lot for someone like me.” He responds quietly. You guys then pull into the driveway of Ashleys house and you both let out small sighs of your own. The two of you enjoyed your conversation, enjoyed talking to one another. It was nice and the two of you would be lying id you said you didn’t want to continue speaking.

“You don’t deserve that, no one does.” You tell him in a soft voice, looking over at him with soft eyes.

“Thank you, you’re a good person yknow”

“and so are you, nice to talk to too” you respond to his kind words. You look over at your friends house then to the back of the car where she was asleep “I should probably get her inside” you sigh sadly

“Yeah, did you need help or anything?” Eddie sighs sadly as well, sad that she our conversations were over.

“No, no it’s okay.” you shake your heard and open the car door. “oh! here” you say, taking off his leather jacket he lended you.

Eddie only had a moment to think, and the thought that passed through him he deemed as stupid but he blurted it out anyways. “keep it, I can get it back the next time i see you” He tells you but as soon as he says it he regrets it. Why would someone like you want to hang out with someone like him, he thinks to himself

“like..outside of school?” you question, looking at him with a smile as you adjust his leather jacket back onto your shoulders

“uh…yea-yeah. If you want of course I totally get if you wouldn’t want to” he rambles but you cut him off before he could go any further

“I would love to, Eddie. It was really nice talking to you, I’ve always thought you were pretty cool” you respond

“wha- really?” he splutters, looking over at you with wide eyes. To say he was shocked would be an understatement.

“yeah” you laugh lightly

“Ive always thought the same about you, always wanted to talk to you more but I never did” Eddie admits, he felt his palms getting sweaty and his heart starting to race.

“good to know, see you at school Monday” you respond

You get back into the van and lean towards Eddie and quickly grabbing one side of his face, and kissing his other cheek that you weren’t holding. Eddie could have sworn he just had a stroke in that moment.

You get out of the van, shutting the door behind you then grabbing your friend Ashley and heading inside of the house.

Eddie was now left in his van in the driveway of your friend’s house. He was stuck in a frozen position ever since you kissed him on the cheek and he couldn’t believe that he, Eddie Munson could have a shot with someone as amazing as you. After a long moment of just sitting there stunned in the driveway he moves and pulls out of the driveway, smile stuck onto his face. Let’s just say he was very thankful your friend got drunk that night.

a/n: this did not turn out nearly as good as i wanted it snd halfway through I wanted to change the whole thing but writing this one for some reason draggggged on :/

[toplurker]

TWO HANDS

reader x macklin celebrini

where you just can’t get enough, and one hand isn’t enough.

cw: p in v (protected!!!! wrap it before u tap it .) needy!reader, tad bit of dom!mack, cockwarming, cursing, nsfw!!

inspired by ;

✧˚ · . . · ˚ ✧

macklins jaw is slack, his eyes hooded, focused on where your bodies connect. he’s in pure bliss as his hands grip onto you tightly, your hips meeting each others at a fast pace. quiet grunts can be heard from macklin, while your a mess of soft moans. as he speeds up the pace, small whimpers begin to escape him. sweat glistens his body and you can see every muscle contract, and he looks as if he’s been hand sculpted perfectly. his lips are pink and plush from the continuous contact, whether it be with your lips or your skin. both of your chests rise and fall with heavy fast breaths in sync, and you seek shelter in the crook of his neck.

you feel him start to part your legs even further, his hands moving down to your ass, your chests becoming closer and closer. he starts to hit new places in you, his head smashing against your cervix over and over, and the feeling is unexplainable, pain mixing with the pleasure to become a fuzzy haze. “macklin,” you whine out, forehead resting on his collarbone.

his hands tighten on your ass at this, and you feel him twitch inside of you. “hmm,” he says, sounding husky. he’s in awe as he stares down at him slamming into you, and your not even sure he really registered what you said.

your nails run down his back and he hisses a little. you let out a loud whine in his neck, your eyes rolling back. “holy,” he manages out, sounding almost choked. you feel his hands move from your body to on either side of your body, supporting himself up, and at the loss of contact you whimper. “mm mm,” you say, shaking your head.

he slowed down slightly, moving his face to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “hmmm?” he grunts out, his eyes on you. “back,” you muster our, his dick messing with your brain, him fucking you dumb. he looks confused, and you know you have to explain more. “put them back,” you say, exhaling sharply. he looks confused before realizing what you mean, and a small smirk appears on his face.

“needed to feel me more, huh?” he asks, pride coating his voice. you nod frantically, a soft moan leaving your lips. his one hand moves to your hip, holding onto you tightly, his weight leaning on his supporting arm. your grateful for his touch, but you need more. “mack,” you breathe out, a frustrated moan coating your voice. “both,”

he chuckles a little, adjusting his position to support his weight on himself instead of on your small frame, both hands squeezing your hips with tight pressure. “need two hands on you, don’t you?” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “mhmh,” you nod, whining a little. “m’close,” you manage our, your hands clenching the sheets below you.

“me too,” he whispers, nodding. his pace speeds up, his hips snapping into you, his tip constantly kissing your cervix. you feel his actions start to become more erratic but at the same time sloppy, and your thighs start to shake. “oh- oh fuck!” you cry out, feeling the band in your stomach snap. you come long and hard, a scream leaving your mouth, and before you know it, macklin is coming too. you squeeze and convulse him you, riding your high but at the same time milking him dry as he fills the condom. your both a mess of lewd noises, groans and whimpers filling the room along with your skin meeting.

your actions slow before he collapses ontop of you, both of you breathless. you can feel him twitch a little inside of you. he rests on top of you before carefully lifting himself off, his lips as if he were whistling but breathing out air. “just quickly,” he says, and swiftly pulls out, causing a whimper to escape you, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls the full condom off himself and throwing it in the nearby trash. “need you,” you say, and you meet his eyes, his head tilting slightly.

“please,” you say, and he understand what you mean, you need him back in you. “are you sure?” he ask quietly, a little unsure. you nod, meeting his eyes, your hands moving to his shoulders. he aligns himself with your hole before slowly pushing himself in, causing you to whine, and him to breath out sharply. “shit,” he says lowly, eyes briefly closing. your walls stretch around him, him hitting your cervix once again. you both catch your breath before he carefully moves behind you, spooning you as you both rest in the bed.

his arms wrap around your torso, and one of your hands moves ontop of his. your other hand gently reaches backwards to stroke his teeth before moving ontop of the arm pile. he gently kisses your bare shoulder before resting his chin on it, exhaling shakily. the warmth he provides leaves you feeling relaxed, filling that void and not leaving you feeling empty. you feel your breaths sync, both tired after what’s just been done.

you feel one of his hands shift, moving to rest by his head, and you turn your head around slowly, a joking glare on your face. “jeez, two hands only, huh?” he asks, and you smile softly, nodding. “always,” you add, turning around. at this he laughs a little, kissing your jawline before relaxing again.

“needy,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips pressed into your shoulder.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

hi guys!!! i took a big long break (extremely sorry) it was not planned, but schoolwork, life, sports, and medical issues caught up to me 😿

i hope to write more and am trying my best!!!! please send in reqs or just yaps!!!

[kaiyunsim]

restless—

pairing : idol best friend!jisung x gn!reader

summary : after a night of many shots of soju, a drunk confession slips before fans rush in, creating an awkward hungover morning.

warnings : fluff, SLIGHT angst, fans are kinda annoying tbh, drunk jisung (duh), drunk reader, both get hungover

a/n : o m g. tbh i might open requests for jisung cuz he is SAUR cute omg please (one chance jisung🙏). for the pookie @the0p

queueing : kitchen - sza, table of one - natalie jinju, restless - bibi

— wc : 4.0k — not proof read —

you and jisung have always been close. friends, mostly. the kind of friends who joke around, goof off, and sometimes even share your secrets. you’re sitting at a bar together tonight, the dim lights and the soft hum of chatter making the atmosphere cozy, but there's something in the air. maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it’s jisung being a little too close, or maybe it's just you finally admitting that you have a crush on your best friend.

"hey," jisung says, his voice just a little louder than usual as he nudges your arm. "are you feeling it yet?"

he's already a few drinks in, his face flushed and his smile big and goofy, though it's clear he’s trying to keep it cool. you laugh, maybe a little too loud, and glance at the soju bottle in front of you. you've only had a couple of shots, but it's already hitting you.

"i think so," you say, letting your words slur a bit. "you?"

jisung snickers, leaning back in his chair, clearly already tipsy. "me? i'm gone," he says, slurring the words with an exaggerated pout. "but i'm having fun. this is great."

you grin at his antics. jisung has always been playful, but tonight, there's something else about him. maybe it's the way his hair falls into his eyes, or how his hand keeps brushing against yours when you both reach for your drinks. either way, you’re feeling a little more nervous than usual, like the buzz from the alcohol is making you more aware of his every movement.

"yeah, this is great," you agree, a little breathless.

jisung’s grin widens, and he leans closer, his face inching toward yours as he teases, “you know, i don’t think i’ve ever hung out with you this much. it’s kinda fun."

you laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. "what, like we don’t hang out enough?"

he gives you a playful look, then nudges your shoulder with his. “nah, i mean, this feels different, y’know? i dunno, maybe it’s the soju talking,” jisung says, his voice a little quieter now, but there’s an undercurrent to it that you can’t quite place.

you dismiss it. the alcohol's starting to make everything a little hazy, and you’re starting to feel warm in all the right places. it’s easy to ignore things like that when you’re tipsy, right?

"yeah, maybe," you say, trying to make the words sound light, even though you can’t quite ignore how his shoulder is still brushing against yours. "you’re just drunk."

jisung smirks, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. but instead, he leans back in his chair, slinging his arm over the backrest and looking at you with a lazy, half-lidded gaze. “i’m drunk, but you’re tipsy,” he teases. "i think that means you're the more responsible one tonight."

"ha," you chuckle, shaking your head. "i think you’re wrong."

he grins, but then his smile softens, just a little. “no, seriously. you’re good at this,” jisung says, voice surprisingly sincere as he looks at you. “i think you’re always good at... things. you know? like, you’re just... cool. i’ve always thought that.”

you blink, surprised by his words, but your mind doesn’t quite connect the dots. tipsy and just a little too giggly, you shrug it off. “what? i’m just me,” you reply with a laugh, knocking back another shot of soju. "don’t get all serious on me now, we're just here to have fun."

jisung laughs, too, though his is a little quieter, like he’s holding back something. “yeah, yeah,” he says, clearly trying to play it off, but his eyes linger on you longer than usual. you don’t notice. instead, you're distracted by the bright lights and the buzz of the crowd around you. maybe this whole evening is just that. a fun night, nothing more. at least, that’s what you try to convince yourself.

the night continues in a blur of laughter, more drinks, and random conversations. you and jisung joke about everything, from the music playing in the background to the awkward waiter who keeps glancing over at your table. but there's a shift in jisung. the more you watch him, the more you realize he’s been acting differently, a little more touchy than usual, brushing against your arm more often, leaning in just a little closer when he speaks.

you catch him staring at you once, and when he notices you’ve seen, he quickly looks away, his face turning red. you laugh, thinking it’s just the alcohol talking. after all, jisung’s always been a little... unpredictable. especially when he’s drunk.

"what’s up with you?" you ask, leaning over to nudge him playfully. "getting shy now?"

jisung shrugs, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “nah,” he says, voice lower than usual. “just... uh... thinking about stuff.”

“thinking about what?” you ask, genuinely curious, though you’re starting to feel the alcohol take full effect. your words slur a little as you lean against the table, trying to focus on jisung.

he hesitates, the playful glint in his eyes dimming for just a moment, before he grins again. "nothing. just drunk thoughts." he laughs, but it’s not quite the same carefree laugh he’s been giving all night. it feels... different. feels... nervous.

but you’re too tipsy to care. “yeah, right,” you mutter, brushing it off with a wave of your hand. “drunk thoughts are the best.”

“uh-huh,” jisung says, a little too seriously. "best thoughts ever."

the night is a blur of laughter and the warm glow of soju, the alcohol slowly building up inside both of you. your words slur and mix with giggles, your head growing heavier as the evening drags on. it’s fun, though. so much fun. jisung is always a good time, and tonight, with the alcohol loosening your thoughts, everything feels like it’s just a little bit more intense than usual.

the conversation shifts, and jisung, now thoroughly drunk, becomes more playful, teasing you in that way he always does. his hand brushes against your shoulder, a subtle touch, but it lingers a little longer than necessary. the warmth of his hand on your skin sends a flutter through you, and your heart skips a beat.

"you know," jisung says, his voice quieter now, the usual playfulness in it replaced with something softer. it catches your attention, the sudden shift in tone. "i really like spending time with you. a lot."

you freeze, blinking up at him. the words settle into your mind, but they don’t quite make sense. maybe it’s the soju talking. maybe you’re just imagining things. "what, like... friends, right?" you ask, laughing nervously, hoping it’s just a passing comment. but there’s something in jisung’s eyes. something that says not to take it at the surface level.

jisung’s eyes widen, and he leans in just a little closer. his face is flushed, but he doesn’t look away. "no... i mean, yeah, but..." his voice falters slightly, and you can see the hesitation in his movements. "i mean... i kinda think i like you. more than a friend. i’ve liked you for a while, actually. like, a long while."

your breath catches in your throat, the words ringing in your ears. you blink rapidly, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. did he just..? was he really saying that? jisung, your best friend, the one who always joked around with you, the one who made everything feel easy. he’s telling you he likes you? more than a friend?

your heart starts to race. the room seems to spin slightly, but it’s not from the alcohol, it’s from the sudden shift in reality. jisung likes you. he’s saying it so openly, so honestly, and yet... you don’t know how to react.

before you can respond, a loud voice breaks through your dazed thoughts. "hey! jisung!" a group of fans suddenly appear, calling his name excitedly, their eyes bright with recognition. jisung snaps out of his daze, his gaze moving from you to the group of girls now approaching your table.

"oh, uh," jisung stammers, his face flushing an even deeper red, his playful demeanor snapping back into place like a mask. he sits back in his chair too quickly, almost knocking over his drink, and gives the fans a wide, charming smile. "yeah, yeah! sure! let’s take a picture!"

you sit frozen, unsure of what just happened. jisung’s confession, the words hanging in the air, but now replaced by the sudden rush of fans wanting attention. it’s like the moment never happened at all.

your mouth feels dry, and you try to shake the confusion off, but your mind is still reeling. jisung likes you. more than a friend. it doesn’t seem real. it’s too much to process, especially with the alcohol clouding your judgment. the fans crowd around jisung, and you watch as he laughs and poses for selfies, sliding easily back into his idol persona.

you look down at the shot glass in front of you, swirling the liquid inside absentmindedly. your fingers feel unsteady, and your thoughts are racing. should you tell him you feel the same way? should you do something about it? the words are there, sitting on the tip of your tongue, but they don’t come out. you’re still too caught in the rush of everything, the soju, the fans, the unexpected confession.

jisung doesn’t even glance back at you. his attention is fully on the group of fans now surrounding him, taking pictures and chatting. you should be happy for him. after all, this is his world. you’ve seen it countless times. his fans, his charm, his ability to shift from casual to idol mode with a single smile. but tonight... tonight feels different. it feels like you’re on the outside looking in.

you sigh quietly to yourself, pushing the thoughts away. you’re tipsy, it’s fine. jisung’s probably just drunk and being silly. he doesn’t really mean it, right? maybe he was just feeling sentimental or had too much to drink. the way he’s acting now, laughing with fans, the flirtatious glint in his eyes, it all seems so... normal.

“hey, you okay?” a fan asks, noticing you sitting quietly at the table, away from the group.

you give a half-hearted smile, nodding. “yeah, just... just tired. too much soju,” you mutter, your voice low, not really wanting to explain the thoughts racing through your head. “nothing to worry about.”

they nod and return their attention to jisung, and you’re left alone again. a small part of you feels relieved, but another part, maybe the one that’s been feeling strange since jisung’s confession, feels empty. you want to shout at him, to tell him that you feel the same way. but the moment is gone. lost in the chaos of his fans and the noise of the bar.

time passes slowly, and you find yourself back at the dorm, the cool night air doing little to sober you up. jisung’s laughter echoes down the hall as he stumbles ahead of you, still clearly drunk, his arm slung around one of the other guys. you follow behind, still caught in the fog of what happened.

you’re barely coherent, but the moment you shared with jisung keeps replaying in your head. he liked you. more than a friend. how could you have missed that? maybe he didn’t mean it. maybe he was just rambling, drunk and lost in the moment. still, the way his eyes held yours and the sincerity in his words. it just felt so real.

when you reach the dorm room, jisung collapses onto the couch with a dramatic groan, immediately pulling a pillow over his face. you stop by the door, still feeling like a whirlwind is spinning inside you. you don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or do something completely different.

jisung lifts the pillow slightly, looking over at you with a sheepish grin. “hey,” he says, his voice slurring, “you good?”

“yeah, just tired,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart is still racing. “but, uh... you?”

jisung shrugs, his smile lazy. “i’m fine. just... you know. i like you.” his words are slurred, but they hit you like a freight train.

you freeze, blinking. “what?”

he waves a hand lazily in the air, as if the confession was nothing. “nah, it’s nothing. i’m just drunk. forget i said that.” he chuckles and flops back down on the couch, completely unaware of how those words hit you, like a bomb, like everything you’ve been feeling was just thrown out in the open.

you stand there for a moment, heart pounding, but you don’t say anything. maybe he’s not being serious. maybe it’s just the alcohol. maybe you’re imagining things.

you glance over at him, his back to you now, clearly more interested in the couch than anything else.

but deep down, you know. jisung may have just let something slip. and you’re not sure what to do with it yet.

the next morning comes far too quickly. you wake up to the dull throb of a hangover and the light creeping through the curtains. the weight of everything that happened last night hits you all at once. you blink, groaning as you try to sit up, but the motion sends a wave of dizziness over you. you lie back down, rubbing your temples as you attempt to piece everything together.

last night was a blur, but there are flashes of clarity. jisung’s words, the confession, his flirty demeanor, and then... the fans. everything happened so fast, and now you’re left with this uncomfortable feeling in your chest. did he mean what he said? was he just drunk, messing around?

you glance over at the couch, where jisung had passed out. his arms are sprawled out, and the blanket he threw over himself has slid to the floor. he’s snoring softly, oblivious to the storm in your mind. you sigh heavily, feeling your stomach twist.

you don’t know what to do with any of it. what did he mean by “i like you”? you feel your heart race as the memory replays in your head. you want to believe it was real, but the way he brushed it off afterward makes you second-guess everything.

eventually, you drag yourself out of bed, trying to ignore the headache that comes with it. you need coffee. that’s the only thing that’s going to help right now. you shuffle into the kitchen, already reaching for the coffee pot when you hear movement from the living room. jisung is awake, apparently, and a moment later, he walks in, still a little disheveled but looking surprisingly chipper for someone who’d clearly been just as drunk as you.

“morning,” jisung says, his voice rough from sleep, but there’s that familiar grin on his face. he looks completely at ease, his usual energy returning now that he’s no longer completely drunk.

you offer a half-hearted smile. “morning.”

he flops down onto the couch with a loud groan, stretching his limbs out like a cat. “what time is it? my head is killing me. i think we need more soju to fix this.”

you chuckle weakly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. "probably not a good idea."

jisung laughs and looks over at you with a playful grin. “yeah, yeah. i'm just kidding." he pauses, watching you for a moment as if contemplating something. "you know, i think we had fun last night.”

you blink, unsure of where he’s going with this. “yeah, definitely. a lot of fun.”

he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and gives you a more serious look. “we should do it again sometime. you and me, more soju, more hanging out. you know? i mean, i think we should do it more often.”

you stare at him, your heart thudding in your chest. does he remember last night? does he remember what he said? “uh, yeah, sure,” you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice comes out quieter than you intended. you’re unsure if you should mention it, his confession. maybe he’s forgotten about it. maybe it’s better if you just pretend it didn’t happen.

jisung grins widely, clearly oblivious to your internal turmoil. “cool. i’m down for that. maybe we can... uh...” he hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting away from you. “maybe we can talk more. just... us. y’know? sometimes i think you don’t let me in enough.”

you blink at him, trying to process his words. “what do you mean?”

jisung looks a little uncomfortable for a second, his usual confidence faltering. “i don’t know. like, sometimes you’re just... i dunno, distant. i want to be closer to you, but it feels like you’re keeping something from me.”

your heart skips a beat at his words. is he being serious? you glance at him, unsure of how to respond. you want to tell him everything. about your feelings. about how his confession last night has been replaying in your head. but you don’t know if you should. is he really being honest with you, or is he just drunk again? what if he was just messing around?

before you can find the words, jisung continues, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “i just want you to know, i... i really like you. i do. i’m not just saying that because i was drunk last night. i mean it. i’ve liked you for a while, and it’s hard not to... feel it, you know?”

your heart races, your mind spinning. you weren’t expecting this. not after everything that happened last night. jisung’s words are clear now, no ambiguity, no alcohol-fueled haze. he likes you. and he’s not backing down.

“you... you really mean that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “because... i don’t know. last night was—”

“i know,” jisung interrupts gently, his eyes sincere. “i was drunk, and i get it if you think i was just being dumb or whatever. but i’m not messing with you. i’m serious.”

you feel a lump form in your throat. you want to tell him everything. you want to tell him that you like him too, that you’ve liked him for so long, but the words get stuck. instead, you nod, barely managing a smile. “yeah, me too. i think... i think i like you, too.”

jisung’s expression softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet understanding between you both. he smiles, a small, genuine smile that makes your chest tighten with warmth. “really?”

“yeah,” you say, finally finding your voice. “really.”

he laughs, but it’s not the usual teasing laugh. it’s soft and relieved, like a weight has been lifted. “well, damn. guess we’ve got a lot of talking to do then.”

you smile, your heart still racing, but it feels lighter now. the air between you is charged, the tension that’s been building up for who knows how long finally starting to dissipate. jisung leans back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head, still looking at you with that soft smile.

“so, when do we do this?” jisung asks, his voice light but serious. “when do we actually... hang out like this, just us, no distractions?”

you chuckle, your nerves slowly fading. “whenever you want.”

he grins at you, his playful demeanor returning, but there’s something more there now—something deeper. you’re not sure where this is going, but for the first time, you feel like it might actually be going somewhere good.

the rest of the morning passes in a blur of easy conversation and comfortable silences. everything feels a little more natural now, a little more real. the tension is still there, the spark between you and jisung undeniable, but for once, it feels like you’re both on the same page.

maybe it took a drunken night and a confession for everything to come to light, but now, you don’t have to hide anymore. you like him, he likes you, and that’s all that matters right now. everything else can wait.

you both sit in the living room, sipping on cups of water instead of coffee, because caffeine is a terrible idea when you’re this hungover. jisung groans every few minutes about his headache, dramatically flopping onto the couch like he’s on the verge of death.

“i think this might be it for me,” he sighs, draping an arm over his eyes. “i had a good run, right?”

you roll your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot. “you’re so dramatic.”

he peeks at you from under his arm, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “maybe, but my head is actually killing me.”

“mine too,” you mumble, rubbing your temples. the dull ache behind your eyes refuses to go away, and the exhaustion from last night’s emotional rollercoaster is creeping in.

jisung sits up, stretching his arms above his head before letting out a long sigh. “you know,” he says, voice quieter now, “i still can’t believe i actually said all that stuff to you last night.”

your stomach flips. “do you regret it?”

his eyes widen slightly, like he hadn’t considered that possibility. “no,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “not even a little bit.”

you swallow, feeling your chest tighten at his sincerity. “good,” you say softly. “because i don’t regret anything either.”

jisung’s lips curve into a small smile, and for a moment, you just sit there, staring at each other. there’s no awkwardness, no hesitation anymore. just an unspoken understanding that whatever this is, whatever it’s turning into, you’re both okay with it.

“okay,” jisung sighs, dramatically throwing himself back against the couch. “but, like, what now? do we do the whole couple thing? do i start calling you babe? because i feel like you’d hit me if i did that.”

you snort. “probably.”

he grins. “figured.”

the conversation slows, the exhaustion from last night settling into your bones. you yawn, stretching your arms above your head before slumping against the couch. “i don’t wanna do anything today.”

jisung hums in agreement, his eyes already drooping shut. “same.”

there’s a beat of silence before he shifts, his head falling against your shoulder. it’s a little awkward at first, his weight unfamiliar, but you don’t move away. instead, you let him lean against you, his warmth seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

“you’re comfy,” jisung mumbles sleepily.

you chuckle, tilting your head to rest lightly against his. “thanks, i guess.”

he hums, his breathing evening out slightly. “wanna just… sleep all day?”

you consider it. your bed sounds amazing right now, and honestly, you don’t have the energy to do anything else.

“yeah,” you mumble. “let’s sleep.”

jisung grins, his eyes still closed. “cool. but your bed. not the couch.”

you huff out a soft laugh but don’t argue. slowly, you both drag yourselves up, stumbling toward your room in a haze of exhaustion. jisung doesn’t hesitate to flop onto your bed, immediately burrowing under the blankets like he belongs there.

“wow, you didn’t even wait for me,” you tease, climbing in beside him.

jisung peeks at you from under the covers, grinning. “you took too long.”

you roll your eyes but settle in, feeling the warmth of the blankets and jisung’s presence beside you. for a moment, there’s silence, just the steady sound of your breathing as you both start to drift off.

but then, just as you’re about to fall asleep, jisung shifts closer, his arm lazily draping over your waist. “this okay?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

your heart stutters, but you don’t pull away. instead, you nod, even though he probably can’t see it. “yeah,” you whisper. “it’s okay.”

jisung hums in contentment, his grip tightening slightly. “good.”

and just like that, the two of you fall asleep, tangled up in warmth and quiet understanding.

no pressure, no expectations. just you and jisung, finally on the same page.

[maddieclarkey2002]

Something Different

~Fluff~

Arthur had always been there. Her brother’s best friend. A part of the furniture. Someone she never really thought about like that—not seriously, not in a way that meant anything.  

At least, that’s what she told herself.  But tonight, something feels… different.  

They’re alone in the kitchen, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound between them. Chris is out, and Arthur, for some reason, decided to stay behind. It isn’t unusual—they’ve spent plenty of time together over the years—but tonight, the air feels heavier, charged in a way she doesn’t quite understand.  Arthur leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He looks relaxed, but his eyes keep flicking to her like he’s trying to figure something out.  

“What?” she finally asks, raising an eyebrow.  

He hesitates. “Nothing.”  

“Liar.”  

A smirk tugs at his lips. “I just… I don’t know. You ever have a moment where something feels off, but you can’t explain why?”  

She frowns. “Off?”  

“Not bad,” he clarifies. “Just… different.”  

She considers that for a moment. Because yes, actually—she knows exactly what he means. It’s been happening all night, this strange shift between them, something just beneath the surface.  She just doesn’t know what to do with it.  

“Maybe you’re overthinking it,” she says, even though her heart is pounding a little too hard.  

Arthur exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Maybe.” But he doesn’t sound convinced.  Neither is she.  The silence stretches, and she suddenly feels restless—like if she doesn’t move, something is going to happen that she’s not prepared for. So she pushes away from the counter, brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet.  Only, she miscalculates.  

She turns at the same time he does, and suddenly they’re too close—closer than they’ve ever been. Close enough that she can see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, the way his breath hitches for just a second.  She should step back. She should laugh it off. She should do anything but freeze the way she does.  Arthur doesn’t move either.  His gaze drops—just briefly—to her lips, and something shifts between them, something she doesn’t have words for.  

And that’s when she realises—he’s thinking it too.  Whatever this is, whatever strange thing is happening between them, he’s feeling it just as much as she is.  

“Maybe,” she says softly, “it’s not that something feels different.”  

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “No?”  

“Maybe,” she breathes, “we’re just finally noticing it.”  

His adam’s apple bobs. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to do something but isn’t sure if he should.  And she wonders—how long have they both been missing this? Neither of them move. Neither of them speak. But in the space between them, something unspoken settles into place. And this time, neither of them can ignore it.    

Arthur doesn’t move.  Neither does she. They’re just standing there, inches apart, the air between them crackling like a live wire. She knows she should say something—anything—but her mind is blank, spinning with the weight of this moment.  Has it always been like this? Has she just not noticed before? Or is this new?  Arthur exhales sharply through his nose, like he’s battling something in his head. Then, finally, he steps back. Just a little. Just enough for the moment to not feel like a breaking point—but not enough for things to go back to normal, either.  

“I should probably—” He stops, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s late.”  

It is. But she doesn’t want him to go.  

“Yeah,” she says, though it sounds like a lie.  

Arthur glances at her again, like he’s searching for something, but whatever it is, he doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, he clears his throat, reaching for his jacket draped over the back of a chair.  

She watches him, heart still racing.  

He hesitates before pulling it on. “You, uh…” He swallows. “You good?”  

She blinks. Good?What does that even mean?  Is she good with the fact that, for the first time in forever, she’s seeing him in a way she doesn’t quite know how to handle?  Is she good with the fact that he might be seeing her that way too?  Or is she good with pretending none of this just happened?  

She licks her lips. “Yeah. You?”  

Arthur lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Not even a little.”  

And before she can process that answer—before she can ask him what it means, what he means—he’s gone.  

For the next few days, she doesn’t see him.  

It isn’t unusual—Arthur has his own life, his own job, his own friends. But it feels different now. Because normally, he’d be here. He’d be lounging on her couch, playfully arguing with her brother over something stupid, throwing some half-teasing comment her way.  But now? Nothing.  And it drives her insane.  

“Where’s Arthur?” she asks Chris casually one evening, pretending not to care too much.  

He shrugs. “Busy, I guess.”  

Busy.  

She wonders if he’s avoiding her. She wonders if he felt this thing between them and decided it wasn’t worth whatever it might cost. And maybe she should let it go. Maybe she should act normal, pretend she didn’t notice anything that night either. But she can’t. Because for the first time in years, she’s realising something:  

She doesn’t want to just be her brother’s kid sister to him. She doesn’t want to keep pretending like nothing is there. And maybe—just maybe—neither does he.  

The next time she sees him, it isn’t at her house.  

It’s at a coffee shop. A random coincidence, but the second her eyes land on him—sitting alone, staring at his phone with a look that definitely isn’t relaxed—she knows this isn’t over. Before she can talk herself out of it, she walks over. Arthur looks up, and for a second, something flashes across his face—relief, maybe. Or hesitation. She can’t tell.  

“Hey,” she says, sliding into the seat across from him.  

He exhales through his nose. “Hey.”  

And then silence.  

It stretches too long, but neither of them move to fill it. Because what do you say to someone when everything between you is changing, and neither of you know what to do about it? Finally, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Are you avoiding me?”  

Arthur looks down at his coffee, his jaw tightening. “No.”  

She lifts an eyebrow. “Liar.”  

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it this time.  

She swallows, her voice quieter when she asks, “Why?”  

Arthur sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because.”  

“That’s not an answer.”  

He looks up at her then, his dark eyes serious in a way she’s never seen before. “Because I don’t know what to do with this,” he admits. “With… whatever’s going on.”  

Her heart stutters. “So you do feel it.”  

Arthur’s expression shifts—like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “I do.”  

And just like that, she knows—there’s no going back. Not to how things were. Not to before. Because whatever this is, neither of them can ignore it anymore. Arthur is still looking at her, like he’s waiting for her to tell him he’s wrong. That this is all in his head. That they can go back to normal. But she doesn’t want normal. Not anymore.  

She swallows hard. “What if we don’t have to do anything with it?”  

Arthur frowns. “What?”  

She takes a steady breath, forcing herself to say the words before she loses the nerve. “What if we just stop overthinking it? Stop avoiding it?”  

Arthur exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “You think it’s that easy?”  

“No,” she admits. “But pretending it’s not there isn’t working either.”  

His eyes darken, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup. “And what if this—what if we—mess everything up?”  

Her chest tightens, but she holds his gaze. “What if we don’t?”  

Arthur doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. And then, just as she thinks he’s going to pull away again, he does the opposite. He leans in. Not fast. Not reckless. Just certain.  She barely has time to process before his lips are on hers—soft, hesitant for only a second before he deepens the kiss.  

It’s everything and not enough all at once.  His fingers graze her jaw, tilting her face to his like he’s memorising the feel of her, like he’s wanted this just as much as she has. And she melts into it, because of course she does. Because this is Arthur—the boy who was always there, the boy she never thought would see her this way, and now that he does, she doesn’t ever want him to stop.

When they finally break apart, his forehead rests against hers, his breath uneven.  

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Definitely can’t pretend anymore.”  

She lets out a shaky laugh, heart still pounding. “Took you long enough.”  

Arthur chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”  

“And you’re slow.”  

He smiles, but then his expression softens, turning more serious. “What now?”  

She exhales, brushing her fingers over his. “Now… we figure it out.”  

Arthur studies her, something warm and sure settling in his eyes. Then he nods, lacing his fingers with hers.  

“Yeah,” he says. “We do.”  

And just like that, everything changes. But for the first time, neither of them are afraid of it.  

——————————————————————————————————

This is my first time writing a fic in AGES!

Let me know if you want a part two!!

[bloodlineee1]

★ ⋆𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓸 𝓜𝓮 ⋆ ★

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤:𝕋𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝔻 𝕁𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕪 𝕩 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕆ℂ 𝔾𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕊𝕄𝕌𝕋, 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀 𝟙𝟠+

ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥: Jimmy finds out Giselle is going on a date and he's not going for that at all.

this might be a series so stay tuned!!!!!!

“You ready to go?” Giselle asked her 6-year-old daughter kapri.

“Yes wait I need to grab my backpack.” she ran back into her room.

“Alright, you’ve got 20 seconds,” Giselle yells knowing her daughter will put everything that could fit in her bookbag.

Her phone rings. She smiles, hoping it’s her date, but it’s her daughter’s dad instead.

Giselle and Jimmy were married for 7 years technically 8 since he never signed the papers but they've been separated for almost a year now strictly co-parenting and this is her first date since the separation.

“Hey, bo,” she answers the phone her attitude evident calling him by the childhood nickname that she gave him it's short for Jimbo cause he was a little ditsy one.

"wassup roo, damn what I do now?" he says in a sarcastic tone mocking a quote from their favorite show calling her by the childhood nickname he gave her short for Parker-roo, Parker being her maiden name.

"Nothing" she chuckles, he always found a way to make her laugh.

“mhm, y'all on the way?” he smiles.

“Yeah, just waiting for her to grab her backpack... it’s been 20 seconds, come on!” she yells for Kapri who's been in her room for over 20 seconds.

“Why you yelling in my ear?” he sucks his teeth pretending to be annoyed even though he misses her loud ass mouth.

“Boy, shut up. I’ll see you in a bit.” she laughs.

“Alright, be safe Roo. Let me know when you’re outside.”

“Okay, Bo see you in a bit.”

“I’m ready.” Kapri runs out of her room holding her Bluey bookbag.

She’s buckling kapri into her car seat when her phone rings. She rolls her eyes, expecting it to be Jimmy again, but this time, it’s her date Lorenzo.

She finish strapping her in, hop into the driver’s seat, and pick up the call.

“Hi.”

“Hey, beautiful. Just checking in on you.”

“I’m great. Looking forward to seeing you. I just left the house—gotta drop my daughter off first, then I’ll meet you there.”

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you at 8.”

“See you at 8.”

🄰🅃 🄹🄸🄼🄼🅈'🅂 🄷🄾🅄🅂🄴

“Daddy!” Kapri runs towards her father,

he looks down to see Kapri's big eyes staring up at him as she stretches her arms toward him. he smiles, bending down to scoop her up and for a moment Giselle started to miss the memories of the three of them together.

“Hi, Boots. I missed you. You miss me?”

She nods, resting her head on his shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

“Alright, I’ll see you guys Sunday. Gimme a kiss.” Giselle walks closer to them.

He leans in, lips puckered, expecting a kiss. she hold her hand up, giving him a playful push away.

“Not you, I was talking to my baby.”

He laughs and steps back.

“Alright, then. Hey, where you going?”He raises an eyebrow, eyeing her from head to toe.

“What you talking about?” she acts oblivious.

“Why you all dressed up, got your hair done and shit—where you headed?” he asks again pushing for an answer.

“Oh, just out with some friends.” she shrugs, trying to hide her smile.

His expression softens but still holds that curiosity.

“Yeah, don’t be late, Mommy. Remember the guy on the phone said—” Kapri dry snitches on her mom.

“What guy?” he looks between Giselle and Kapri.

Kapri giggles bouncing a little.

“Oh, she’s talking about you.” Giselle tries to play it off but Jimmy isn't oblivious he knows she going on a date he knew as soon as he smelt her Herrera good girl perfume.

Her date night perfume.

“No, silly, not Daddy. The other guy,” she giggles as she playfully nudges Giselle.

“What guy, Roo?” he questions again all in her business.

“Boy, I’m late! I’ll tell you later.” she passes him Kapri's bag trying to walk away.

“Roo, I ain’t playing. Who you—” he yells.

“Byyyyyye!” she sings as she closes her car door.

🄰🅃 🅃🄷🄴 🅁🄴🅂🅃🄰🅄🅁🄰🄽🅃

As she glided down the street, anticipation built within her. she stepped out of her car and With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she stepped inside the restaurant, her heart raced at the sight of Lorenzo, looking fine as hell in his sleek suit.

"Hi, how are you?" he smiles still sitting in his seat.

Which was a little different for Giselle considering Jimmy worshipped the ground she walked on he always stood up and pulled out her seat refusing to sit down until she did.

"I'm great how are you?" she smiles pulling out her own seat, it felt like a foreign task she never done before.

The whole date had been a blur of Lorenzo's corny jokes and uncomfortable, misogynistic comments that made her skin crawl. Every time he cracked a joke or made another offhand remark about women, her patience wore thinner.

She smiled, but it was one of those tight, polite smiles, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. She found herself counting down the minutes, her thoughts drifting to the comfort of her own space. she was screaming for the night to end.

"Aye, Roo, I wasn't expecting to see you here!" the date interrupted by a familiar voice and cheesy grin.

"Oh my—" Giselle's eyes widen as she realizes who it is, her heart sinking.

Lorenzo, completely confused, stares at Jimmy like he's an alien that just landed. "Who's this?"

"Her husband," Jimmy says, casually waving a hand, like he’s just made the best point in a debate.

"You married?" Lorenzo asks, his eyebrows knitting together in disbelief.

"Damn right she’s married," Jimmy says, puffing out his chest and looking at Giselle's shocked expression trying to hold in his laugh.

"You're dead wrong, Roo. I’m hurt. You told me this was a business meeting. I was expecting PowerPoint presentations, not… this." He gestures to their awkward dinner setup putting on a fake ass hurt expression that only she could see right through.

"Are you serious right now?" she asks frustrated but lowkey relieved as she glances at Lorenzo with embarrassment.

"As serious as a heart attack, sweetheart," Jimmy says immediately dropping the sad guy act and grins.

"I mean, wow, you think you know someone. First, she says ‘business meeting,’ now we’ve got a mystery man. Who is this guy?" he grabs her drink and takes a sip then gives her a quick mischievous smirk while Lorenzo's head is turned.

"You’re unbelievable," Giselle mutters under her breath holding in her laugh.

Lorenzo, still in a daze, finally asks, "Who is this, Giselle?"

"My EX-husband," she says deadpan.

"Wait… are you saying we’re over? You're doing it like this? In front of... him?" Jimmy puts his hand on his chest.

"I'm gonna go" Lorenzo stands up fixing his suit and walking past Jimmy and his intimidating gaze.

"no-" Giselle tried to stop him, but she couldn't even convince herself that she wanted him to stay.

"I'm sorry she lied to you like this man" Jimmy pretends to feel bad looking down and shaking his head.

"why the fuck would you do that? and where's Kapri?" she throws a bread roll at him that he caught and took a bite of.

"with my mother, you looked bored as hell" he laughs sitting in Lorenzo's seat.

“It's not funny” she chuckles trying not to smile.

“Why you laughing then” he rubs her chin with the knuckle of his index finger.

“Your so annoying” She blushes and he smiles loving that he still has that effect on her and vice versa.

“He paid?” he looks down at the half-empty plates on the table.

“Oh shit” she laughs surprised that this man really left without paying.

“he dined and dashed on your ass, don't worry bout it I got you” he laughs taking money out of his wallet putting two crisp hundred dollar bills on the table .

"Did he at least pull your seat out for you?" Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes in the situation.

"No," she responds, rolling her eyes, already feeling the lecture bubbling up.

"Damn, where are your standards, girl?" Jimmy continues, shaking his head like he’s genuinely hurt. "All the years we were together, I ain't teach you how a man should be treating you? I feel disrespected."

"Shut up, Bo," she mutters, doing her best to ignore him as he tries to act like some kind of relationship expert.

"You spending the night with me?" he asks casually, his grin almost too confident. "Ma said she could keep Kapri."

"Boy..." she rolled her eyes already knowing where this was going.

"What?" Jimmy says with a shrug like he’s done nothing wrong.

"I drove here. You want me to leave my car?" she remarks.

"He ain’t pick you up?" Jimmy's eyes widen, as though the idea that someone might not cater to her every need is unthinkable.

"I don’t know him," Giselle snaps, the sarcasm dripping from her words.

"You right, but I took an Uber here" he laughs.

"so" she deadpans.

so I guess I gotta ride with you," Jimmy says, suddenly grinning like he’s made the perfect, smooth comeback.

"Or you can take another Uber," she shoots back.

"Oh wow," Jimmy says dramatically, his hand clutching his chest like he’s been struck. "That’s how you treat the father of your ONLY child and your first and ONLY love?"

"Oh my God," Giselle sighs, tossing him her keys. "Let’s go, and I’m not driving."

Jimmy grins wide.

"you so annoying" she laughs.

They walk out of the restaurant and into her car.

Giselle shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the sexual tension between her and Jimmy.

"you know we not doing anything right? I told you we're done"

"I know" She could feel the warmth of his presence beside her the smell of his cologne suffocating her, and the subtle shift of his body as he turned the key in the ignition she wanted to pounce on him.

"Well, I'm glad you know" She shifted in her seat, trying to fill the void of her arousal by rubbing her thighs together.

"you gonna keep rubbing your thighs together Roo or you need me to fix that?" he glanced at her. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck, she gasped and he laughed knowing that's her spot.

"move your hand bo" she stifles a moan.

"why?" he whispers acting oblivious.

"you know why" she closes her eyes in pleasure as he still plays with her spot.

"No, tell me" he shakes his head in confusion and gets closer.

"Can we go" She bit her lip, fighting the urge to kiss him.

"Anything for you mama" he whispered she felt the wall that she built crumbling when she didn’t pull away as his fingers lightly carresed her jaw and his thumb rubbed against her lips. His touch was gentle, but the intent behind it was clear.

he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road the car ride was intoxicating it felt like old times the laughter from his annoying jokes and the tension she tried so hard to fight was growing stronger and stronger as they got closer to her house.

He pulls into her driveway, the soft hum of the engine dying as the car comes to a stop. For a long moment, the air between them hangs heavy, thick with unspoken words. She can feel his eyes on her feeling nervous under his gaze she turns her head and chuckles.

"what?" she smiles.

"Nothing you look beautiful, can't believe I let you go ma," he says with a deep sense of regret. His eyes search hers, for anything, and in her eyes he sees what he's been longing for "I miss this the late-night car rides, your laugh your smart-ass mouth all of it." he smiles as the memories of their time together flood his mind.

“Shut up, Bo,” Her eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze, as a mix of embarrassment and amusement showed on her face. The warmth spreading across her cheeks betrayed her teasing tone.

"I'm for real,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Mhmm,” she replies, and she slightly rolls her eyes. The corners of her lips fought a smile. It’s clear she’s putting on an act, trying to maintain her cool composure while secretly falling for his smooth talk, like she always did.

“Damn, it’s pitch black out here, Let's go inside” he exclaimed, a mischievous grin on his face, hoping to charm his way in.

"yeah it's pretty late, you can spend the night with me" she whispers.

giving a cocky child-like grin Jimmy swings his door open and runs to her side he hadn't had her in almost a year and he was obviously feening for any bread crumbs she’d give him.

"you know better, I am not your date" he scolds her for trying to open her door.

"Don't get any ideas Bo" With a playful smirk, she gets out and struts by him, walking slowly with confidence teasing him with every step, making it clear she's enjoying the chase.

Jimmy picks her up bridal style catching her off guard She gasps, her hands reaching to steady herself.

"Boy put me down!" she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and laughter.

"you know your feet hurt they always do after you wear them 80-inch heels" He smirked, holding her effortlessly as he started walking toward the door.

"Put me down, Jimmy!" she demands, half-annoyed but still laughing cause she knows he's right her feet are killing her.

He looks down at her, grinning. "Or what?"

she looks away at his smile making her blush.

"Or what?" he repeats, his voice softer now, his teasing tone gone. They lock eyes, both quiet for a moment, the playful energy shifting into something she's been tryna avoid all night.

Her breath catches slightly, her heart pounding a little faster. She could feel the warmth of his arms around her, and the way his gaze held hers—right now all she wanted was him.

Giselle swallows, trying to hold onto her defiance. "I… I don’t know," she admits, her voice softer than before.

He doesn’t break eye contact. "I think you do," Jimmy says quietly, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he puts her down.

The tension between them thickens, the playful edge gone, replaced by something heavier. Giselle can feel her breath hitch in her chest as Jimmy’s gaze drops to her lips, and she’s frozen, heart pounding faster than she can keep up.

Without a word, Jimmy leans in, his lips brushing hers lightly at first, testing, to see if she’s ready. It’s gentle, but Giselle can’t hold back. Her lips press against his and the kiss deepens immediately. His hands shift to her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss gradually slows, and they pull back to catch their breath.

After the kiss, Giselle pulls back slightly, her heart racing For a moment, neither of them speaks, the air heavy with sexual tension.

She glances toward the door, realizing where they are. Her hand shakes slightly as she reaches for the handle, trying to steady herself.

"Uh, let's go inside," she says, her voice a little breathless, betraying her nervousness.

Jimmy watches her, a soft smile on his lips. "You good?" he asks, his voice low, almost teasing but with an edge of concern.

"Yeah," she says, trying to sound casual, but her heart is still beating faster than she’d like to admit. "I’m straight you don't got it like you think you do nigga."

"oh, I do remember" he whispers in her ear standing way too close, close enough for her to feel his print on her back.

"your hard"

"you always have that effect on me, mama"

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"mhm, what you gonna do about it, ma"

she grabs his belt, pulling him toward the stairs without a word. Jimmy follows, surprised, but he doesn’t resist.

"Guess we’re not staying here?" he teases she just shakes her head.

They reach the top, and she opens the door to her room, the room they once shared.

Without hesitation, she turns toward him, hands on him again, pulling him closer.

"the shit we used to do in this room-" Jimmy murmurs, but before he can say more, Giselle kisses him again, cutting him off.

they started ripping clothes off once she was in nothing but her panties he laid her on the bed dragging her to the edge of the bed,

"I've missed you so much roo," he says before sliding her thong off with his teeth.

"I've missed you more baby" she moans.

"you let anyone touch what belongs to me?" he rubs her clit with his middle finger giving deep eye contact daring her to say yes.

"no it's yours, baby, have you?" she moans questioning him.

"you're the only one that gets me up beautiful" he looks down at her pussy with hunger.

Giselle's knees weakened at the sight of Jimmy's gaze focused on her exposed pussy.

Jimmy's eyes devoured her, taking in every detail the subtle quiver of her thighs making him harder. He leaned forward, his warm breath on her sensitive skin. His tongue darted out, teasing her clit, causing Giselle to gasp and arch her back.

"You kept this shit sweet for me ma? ," he said hungrily. He lapped at her folds, savoring every drop, his tongue between her lips, exploring her wetness.

Giselle grips his hair slightly tugging, her knuckles turning white as she struggles to maintain her composure.

"fuck, Bo," she moaned, her head falling back as waves of pleasure washed over her. he was relentless, determined to drive her to the edge of ecstasy.

Jimmy seeing how much she was enjoying herself, entered two fingers, his fingers in perfect rhythm with his tongue. The room echoed with the wet sounds of his mouth on her, and Giselle's moans.

"Jimmy, please…" she pleaded, feeling her orgasm creeping up.

Jimmy knowing her like the back of his hand knew she was close so he increased his pace, He sucked on her clit sending her over the edge and squirting all over his beard as he tried to catch every drop.

As she came down from her high her legs shook uncontrollably Jimmy, still on his knees, looked up at her with a satisfied smirk.

"I missed this sweet ass pussy" he said, his voice thick with desire.

Giselle's eyes half open looked down at him, her body still shaking.

"don't get too cocky nigga it's my turn now" She reached down, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. rubbing her hand on his print before kissing him.

Jimmy groaned into her mouth, as she pushed his boxers down, freeing his hard begging dick.

"so big" Giselle whispered, her fingers wrapping around his length., her thumb brushing over his sensitive head, making Jimmy groan.

Jimmy's breath shuddered as she brought him to the edge of release and then backed off, teasing him.

"Giselle, Don't fucking play with me" he grabs her hair his voice hoarse with need.

she chuckles, before dropping to her knees, mirroring his earlier position. Her hands gently caressed his balls, while her tongue traced the length of his shaft, from base to tip, leaving a trail of saliva.

"Mmm, you taste so good," she purred, her eyes locked on his. She took him into her mouth, her lips sliding down his length, her tongue swirling around the head.

Jimmy's hands clenched into fists as he struggled to maintain control. Giselle bobbed her head, taking him deeper with each stroke.

"Fuck, mama," he groaned, his hips thrusting involuntarily. "You know this yo dick huh?."

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and then took him even deeper, her nose brushing against his pubic hair. Her throat constricted around him, and she hummed, sending vibrations through his entire body.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.

Giselle pulled back, her lips glistening with his essence. "Not yet," she whispered, her breath hot against his sensitive skin.

She got off her knees and lay down, guiding his throbbing dick towards her entrance. With one smooth motion, he put every inch in her giving her no time to adjust, her eyes closing in pleasure as she took him deep inside her.

"This my pussy right?" Jimmy groaned.

"yes baby" she moans.

"you belong to me, You a bad girl for giving another man access to what is mine" he grabs her by her throat.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry" she babbles.

"I'm sorry too my love" he puts his hands between them rubbing her clit.

"fuck" she moans her eyes fighting to stay open.

Giselle's breasts bounced with each thrust her nipples hard against his chest.

"Harder, Bo," she panted, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Jimmy obliged, his hips pounding into her, The room echoed with the sounds of their moans and skin clapping together.

"I'm gonna cum, Jimmy," Giselle's orgasm built again, her pussy clenching around him.

Jimmy felt his own nut approaching, his balls tightening. "Me too, mama wait for me" he grunted, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

"nut in me, I want it so bad," she says obliviously, high on sex.

Giselle's body shook as her orgasm ripped through her, her juices drowning his dick. Jimmy followed, his cock pulsating as he filled her with his cum.

As their orgasms subsided, they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies sweat-soaked and breathless. Giselle's head rested on Jimmy's chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin.

"fuck ma that shit was" Jimmy began, searching for words to describe the intensity of their reunion.

"magical" Giselle finished for him causing both of them to laugh at the corny comment.

"what this mean? we back together?" he questions.

"Maybe I don't know Bo, I'm dickmatised right now talk to me in the morning ." Giselle laughed.

"you are so corny" he laughs smacking her thigh.

As they lay there, tangled in each other's arms, the tension that had once kept them apart seemed to melt away, just them like old times, good sex and laughter.

"but I'm serious roo this year without you has been hell I miss my world I miss waking up with you and Kapri in my ear every morning," he says without a stutter.

"we can try this again and see" she smiles.

"For real?" he smiles.

"yeah," she smiles too.