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#and THEN you feel a part of you go missing AGAIN
tidcl · 1 day
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mv — yuck! (part i)
pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader
summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.
warnings: mild sexual references i guess
fc: daisy edgar jones
a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)
⭐️ next part
🏁🏎️💨
(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
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tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing
liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others
ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.
user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵
⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that
⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?
⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!
user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!
⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war
user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.
redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)
⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?
⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them
⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends
user10 RAHHHHHH
user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋
danielricciardo Fuck me
⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off
⤷ danielricciardo 😬
danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!
⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes
⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.
⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.
user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?
⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤
(yn’s messages)
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(twitter)
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(instagram)
🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…
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liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others
ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately
user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos
⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx
ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY
⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY
⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker
⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u
⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig
user2 slay! 🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻
danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…
⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel
⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?
⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting
⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole
⤷ danielricciardo 👀
user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!
maxverstappen1 Nice pants
⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)
——
📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️
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lale-txt · 1 day
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❥ falling asleep besides you for the first time ↳ w/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso
a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!
word count: 1.4k
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t even want to fall asleep; it’s not like he had a good night of rest ever since… well. He tells himself he’s just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. There’s still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, he’s gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and Toji–Toji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesn’t come over him as a heavy veil, as if he’s drowning; for once it’s something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that you’re still gonna be there when he wakes up again.
𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 hasn’t had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you that’s the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. It’s not just lust–oh, he wants to devour you, but there’ll be time in the morning–it’s the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when he’s falling in love and in this moment he’s wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they don’t spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, you’ll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.
𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 can’t fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words he’s demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while he’s pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say you’re mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isn’t aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesn’t care if you’re lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. You’re his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasn’t aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesn’t leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, you’re his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, he’ll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby. 
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 doesn’t let go of your hand; he’s afraid it’ll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isn’t how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as he’s sitting on your bedside–how attached he’s gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, it’s okay, I’m alive, you’re not to blame. So please don’t leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesn’t like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what you’re dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if he’s ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent together–though he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 realizes that his idea of ‘sweets in bed’ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he can’t help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didn’t assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar that’s still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 doesn’t know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; they’ve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when they’re the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he can’t help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe he’ll tell Uraume that you’re off the menu, for now. As long as you know your place–in his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you. 
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 doesn’t question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasn’t found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, he’s surprised that you don’t even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that you’re trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apart–though deep down he’s aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, don’t you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep can’t fix, and he can’t help but wonder if this would also be the last time that you’re in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Finally II
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You get interrupted
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You gasp into Talia's mouth as she shoves you up against the door of your apartment.
She grins against your lips, tongue slipping into your mouth as one of her hands holds you by the jaw and the other tight around your hip.
"You're so hot," She whispers, leaning down to graze her teeth against your neck. She relishes in the little whimper you let out when she sucks a hickey into your skin.
You can't quite remember how you got from the bar to your apartment.
Your mind is completely consumed with Natalia as she sucks more insistenyly at your neck.
Your chest rises and falls like you've been doing sprints. You count yourself lucky that Prins has clearly gone to sleep in the spare room because you don't think you'd be able to look him in the eyes while Talia has you pinned against your own door.
Her tongue soothes the hicky she's made on your neck and you force her to unlatch by tugging at her hair, drawing her back so you can connect your lips again.
Somehow, you both end up on your sofa, you perched in her lap and Talia's hands keeping you steady.
"God," She says," Why did we wait to do this?"
You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound coming from your lips. "Because you prefer me dumb and hot?"
Talia grins. "Oh, yeah." One hand leaves your waist to tug your head back, baring your neck to her. "That."
A frankly embarrassing whine rips from your throat as Talia tugs your hair and connects her lips to your collarbone and you're saved (or damned) by your phone ringing.
Talia disconnects from your neck with a wet pop as you scramble for your phone.
"H-Hello?"
"Why do you sound out of breath?" It's Morsa and your eyes go wide.
You stare at Talia, who just grins below you, one brow raised.
"I...er..." You're not quite sure what to say. "I was just out."
"Running in the middle of the night?" Morsa clicks her tongue. "I've told you before-"
She waffles on for a while and you let out a squeak as Talia rolls her hips under you.
"What was that?"
"Nothing!"
"Pernille!" You can hear Morsa yell. "Your daughter is lying to me again! Tell her to stop lying!"
"I'm not lying!" You say quickly.
"Then let's switch to a videocall."
Your eyes go wide and Talia rolls her hips again. You shove your hand against her chest to get her to stop.
"I...er..."
"Have you got someone there with you, princesse?" It's Momma now. Her tone is teasing and you get the feeling she knows exactly who is with you.
"Er...Yeah...Me and Natalia were just at a bar," You say and Talia grins up at you.
Momma laughs over the phone. "Were you having a bit of fun?"
You groan, leading forward and planting your face in Talia's neck. "Please stop talking."
You can hear Morsa gasp over the phone.
"What?! You were having sex?!"
"Magda, it's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?! Sex?! Before marriage?!"
"Magda, we regularly have sex. We're not married yet."
"That's different! This is our baby we're talking about! She could end up pregnant!"
"Not unless Natalia has suddenly grown a dick."
There's silence for a moment before you have to tear the phone away from your ear.
"She's sleeping with Natalia?!"
You awkwardly clears your throat. "We're not sleeping together!"
Talia's grin sharpens.
"We're...er..."
"You're?" Momma teases.
"I invited her back because..."
"Because?"
"We were just out on a date, Miss Harder," Talia pipes up sweetly," Y/n invited me back for a coffee."
"Uh-huh." Momma doesn't sound like she believes her.
"I did!" You insist.
"Then why did you sound so out of breath."
"I was..." Your eyes catch movement in the hallway as Prins comes out. His tail wags furiously when he notices you and Talia, jumping up onto the sofa. "Playing around with Prins. I taught him a new trick."
"Sure." You can hear the smile in Momma's voice. "Have fun with your 'date', Princesse."
You groan. "Please stop talking."
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lowgothree · 2 days
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❜
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chapter no. 001!          
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𝗈𝗈𝗈.               ⠀CONTENT : paige “with” another girl (for the plot). reader is so terribly down bad. also, i don’t proofread so if you see typos or grammar mistakes i’m sorry. and this chapter is kinda boring but it's necessary soo.
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 1.5k
𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : yall seemed to like the prologue so i hope yall like this too!!
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THEY’RE KISSING. and she’s enjoying it, by the looks of it. you can tell because she’s doing that thing where she pulls the other person closer like they could never be close enough. the thing she used to do to you. 
it’s almost comical that the first time you see paige again, she’s kissing some other girl with eyes like yours outside the diner where you and the girls were. she thinks she’s being sneaky (she’s not). she always thought she was sneaky, you remember that much. in fact, you somehow remember everything about the blonde except what her lips tasted like. so of course you’re a little jealous, feeling a bit out of the loop. that’s normal. right? and maybe definitely it’s stupid to mourn so deeply over a relationship that you ended but, whatever, you can’t help that you miss her.
there was nothing human about the feeling, it was more like a typhoon or a volcanic eruption, something so completely out of your control. it was purely sickening…but whenever you see the peroxide-blonde with someone new, you  find yourself apprehensively scanning their hair, their skin, the words that they would say –– always finding a hint of yourself within them. the delusional part of you wanted that to mean she still wanted you, but logic said that maybe she just started having a type. but then you’d think back to before…the paige before you never had a specific type. but since you? there’s an unmistakable one. but that’s not enough proof that she still feels for you. in fact, it’s nothing. it’s hard not to see yourself when you’re actively looking for it. you’d keep up with the torture by staring at paige kissing that girl through the window but then you feel a sharp kick to your shin from underneath the table. 
“stop staring, perv.” nika mutters, rolling her eyes lightly. although nika was one of the few people who knew about the dead relationship, she didn’t know that your feelings for paige still lingered. she only knew what paige told her, that the two of you were friends.
“i wasn’t ––”
“you were.”
okay –– maybe you were. you sigh silently to yourself, taking a sip of your milkshake. this is the first time you’re actually hanging out with your friends together rather than just one on one (which you only did because you didn’t want to see paige). the two of you agreed to be friends but that was clearly not going to happen. however, you felt bad for denying your friends every time they asked to spend time with you. so, you sucked up your pride. you could spend an hour in paige’s presence, it wouldn’t kill you. at least not literally.
angel, a redhead who shares a dorm with nika and a major with you, is sitting in between azzi and you. she’s eyeing you carefully, after all, the two of you are very close and she knows why you and paige broke up. she also knows that you still care about her. her gaze is simultaneously suffocating and protective.
“...are you okay?” she whispers only loud enough for you to hear. you simply nod, munching on your fries trying not to look out of the window again. in truth, your head was spinning. you haven’t seen paige face to face since the breakup. you were hoping you’d never have to again…
then she finally enters, walking up to the booth. every step she takes is just as confident as they always are. her hair is down, running across the length of her back. her eyes meet yours, they’re more familiar than your own name. her beauty is still unquestionable –– but you wouldn’t admit it. it would make looking away from her even more difficult. so instead you pretend not to look as she sits down at the booth right next to nika…right in front of you. she pokes nika’s side just to piss her off  before snatching a fry from angel’s plate and dipping it in her own milkshake. angel rolls her eyes but says nothing.
“that’s disgusting.” nika turns up her nose as paige bites it. 
“don’t knock it till you try it.” paige dramatically licks her fingers. nika makes a fist, gently hitting the table a few times with her knuckles. you chuckle at nika’s attitude.
“what are you giggling about? you used to like it too.” paige mutters, smiling lightly but her words send a pang to your chest. nobody else seems to catch the bitterness in her tone….but you do. her eyes look almost guilty when she sees the sharp intake of breath you take. but before she could say anything else, you look away. you avoid her eye contact like it’s deadly.
nika clears her throat, eventually sensing the tension, and turns her attention to azzi whose eyes are close and head is rested against the booth. “you okay?”
“mhm…just really tired.” she mutters, opening her eyes to sip her lemonade. 
you chuckle. “i bet you are, we stayed up all last night studying.”
“finals?” angel questions.
“yeah…” azzi mumbles.
“can we please not talk about that right now?” paige groans.
“says you, scholar athlete.” azzi mutters, rolling her eyes at the blonde.
“she’s too busy with that girl to focus on studying these days.” nika chuckles. angel looks over at you for a quick moment but you keep your gaze steady on your plate.
you nearly jump out of your skin trying to relax your tensing shoulders before someone notices. you ended things with her…she couldn’t even call you her girlfriend. so why did it hurt so much to even hear of someone else in your place? this wasn’t exactly the plan, you were meant to move on by now. but seeing her…again…all you can wonder is what she’s thinking about right now.
“who? cleo?” paige snorts. “we’re not talking about that either.”
cleo. cleo. the girl who just had her tongue down paige’s throat no less than ten minutes ago. you feel sick to your stomach at the mention but you hide it well, then you feel sicker when you think about how pathetic it is that you even felt this way to begin with. it’s just another indignity among many.
“why not?” nika mutters. “it’s more interesting than talking about studying.”
“true.” azzi adds.
paige looks over at you, her way of saying that she’s not going to talk about another girl in front of you. “where’s aubrey?” 
you appreciate the conversation shift even if you know it’s in vain. they want to know about this mystery girl and honestly, so do you.
“late.” nika mutters.
“i ordered her food for her.” angel smiles softly. 
“and she’s gonna wanna talk about the girl too.” azzi chuckles. angel’s leg shakes underneath the table, she’s clearly empathetic for you. she knows the girls don’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that it is hurting you. you wanted to relax her, make her feel less guilty for not saying anything even if she wasn’t participating in the conversation.
so you chuckle lightly, pretending to be completely fine and say, “can you please be still?”
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“can you please be still?” you sigh softly, braiding her hair in its signature style. paige is sitting in front of you on the bed with her legs crossed. she has a game later, and she asked you to braid her hair for her. 
“you’re pretty.” paige mumbles as you finish up her first braid, still squirming at your touch. 
for a second you almost forget yourself, paige being damn near sickeningly sweet. she seems to notice how her words have temporarily struck you, pride swelling within her since she loves making you happy. 
you shrug it off and remember that her back is facing you, so you chuckle at her commenting on your appearance. “you can’t even see me.”
“i don’t have to. i’m thinking about how your face looks right now.” she turns back to look at you over her shoulder. “pretty.”
you bite back a smile, turning her head back so you can braid the other side. “you’re corny, you know that?”
“i’m enamored.”
“oh, someone learned a new word.” you snort, continuing braiding her hair, being as gentle as you can with her. (though it gets increasingly difficult when she won’t stop moving).
“shut up.” she mutters. “i’m super smart.”
you finish braiding her hair, tapping her side to let her know that you’re done and she can go look. she stands up from the bed, long legs taking her to the dresser which has a mirror over it, she eyes her braids carefully. “they’re a little crooked, babe.”
you roll your eyes. “cause you wouldn’t stop mo––”
she turns back your way, walking back to you. paige towers over you while you sit on the bed, she puts a hand under your chin and kisses you. “i’m joking. they’re perfect. thank you, baby.”
“anything for you…” you whisper back and your words make her smile. it’s wide and toothy –– the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
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charliemwrites · 7 hours
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
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You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
“I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
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flemingsfreckles · 3 days
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Trying Again Part 2
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Read Part 1, based off this suggestion, basically this fic just goes through what each month looked like for reader and Jessie once they learned they were expecting.
Warnings: pregnancy fic, morning sickness, discussion of labor/birth (again nothing graphic), suggestive, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), cursing
WC: 3.0k
A/N: this isn’t necessarily a part 2, but it’s kind of a continuation of Trying Again, walking through each month of pregnancy, I’m just labeling it Part 2 because that makes more sense than it being its own fic
Month 1
You nearly miss month 1 just not knowing. You didn’t take the pregnancy test until you were about 3 weeks along. Once you found out Jessie immediately assumed the role of overly prepared parent.
She came home the day after you had given her the positive test with a couple massive shopping bags.
“What on earth did you buy?” You asked her when you saw the pile of bags.
“Just some things. I’ll show you.” She proceeded to unload baby book after baby book on every topic. Books on pregnancy, books on supporting your partner through pregnancy, books on the actual birth process, books on the baby’s first year, books on how to raise a teenager. It was safe to say she had gotten ahead of herself but you couldn’t even fault her. The way she showed you each one with such excitement in her eyes and voice was adorable.
The next bag was filled with other baby items, blankets, clothes, pacifiers, stuffed animals, and a tiny pair of Nike shoes.
“Jessie, the baby will wear those for all of 5 minutes before they fall off and they outgrow them.”
“I know but they’re just so cute and little.” She grinned at the shoes, holding them in her hands. “I can’t believe our baby is going to be this small.”
Month 2
Month two was filled with morning sickness. Jessie is a saint, getting up with you every time, bringing you water and new clothes. She’d gather your hair in her hand, holding it away from your face. She’d get your toothbrush set up with toothpaste and hand it to you once you were done throwing up. She’d help you shower if you wanted to feel refreshed and then she’d tuck you into bed, making sure you were comfortable with a fresh glass of water next to your bedside. She’d hold you tight, in whatever position made you the most comfortable.
Your hormones were starting to jump to extremes. Jessie found you crying on the couch one day over a sock. To be fair to you, the socks didn’t have a match and that upset you deeply. She had held you on the couch while your hand clutched the sock tightly, rubbing your back gently. She then went and found the missing sock. You got angry quickly, she hadn’t told you she was stopping at the store to grab you some snacks and when she got home, later than she had told you to expect her you had been at the door yelling at her. Of course you apologized and also cried when she explained she had just gotten you a little surprise, the basket she held out to you containing snacks, new slippers, some bubble bath, and some baby clothes. You felt guilty for yelling, but you were irritable, tired, and just relatively in a bad mood.
Month two was also when you told your teams. The Chelsea girls first followed by the Lionesses and Canada. Everyone was naturally excited and thrilled for you and Jessie. Niamh was your biggest supporter beside your wife, she was with you on both teams and was Jessie’s eyes and ears when she couldn’t be with you. The girl would get up with you when you got sick, offering you water. She checked in during training, making sure you weren’t feeling ill.
You also both told your families at this time, Jessie’s sister the most excited out of anyone, quick to claim the role of “best aunt”. You were overwhelmed with everyone’s excitement about your baby, you knew they would be so loved by your families both biological and your chosen families you had created.
Month 3
Month three was similar to month two. Your morning sickness continued and Jessie continued to be your biggest support throughout. Your body began to feel more fatigued, you were sleepy all the time, doing nothing but training and sleeping. Jessie cuddled up with you on the couch after training, scratching your back or your scalp. The tiredness also led to more mood swings, you were angry one moment and then crying and then crying tears of joy. Jessie handled it all with grace, you knew you were being a terrible person to her and she didn’t deserve it, but growing a human was a lot of work and it took a huge toll on your body.
Training was becoming harder. Your clothes start to fit differently, your breasts becoming sore that it hurts to run around for long periods of time no matter the sports bra you wore. You were still irritable, the early morning wake ups to be sick did nothing to help your mood. You started to have weird cravings and changes in the foods you liked and disliked.
You had woken up from a nap one afternoon to Jessie cooking what used to be your favorite meal, however when she placed it in front of you, it repulsed you. When Jessie asked you why you weren’t eating it you had to tell her you didn’t want what she made. Jessie of course took no offense to your disgust, getting up from her own plate to immediately start cooking you something else. You cried when she handed you a new meal, overwhelmed with her cooperation and kindness toward you. She just kissed you and told you she’d do anything for you.
It wasn’t an easy month, maybe the worst out of the whole pregnancy but with Jessie’s help and support you made it through, day by day and night by night.
Month 4
Month four was when things settled, your morning sickness started to fade, happening less and less frequently. Month four however was the time when you and your doctor decided it was time to slow down with training and playing. It was a hard couple of days, realizing you were about to take a break from the one constant in your life, but Chelsea was great about it. You still attended the end of season practices and games, just with less and less involvement until you were solely on the sidelines.
You had also developed the sex drive that was through the roof. Jessie would breathe in your direction and you were ready to jump her bones. Jessie couldn’t complain too much about this side effect, she was getting laid everyday. It was fun for her for the first few days. Then she was starting to cramp in her forearms, fingers, her jaw, all sore from the pleasure she was providing you. Her own sex drive was also not affected by hormones; she just wasn’t always in the mood for multiple rounds of sex, every day, but she happily gave you what you needed, often for nothing in return.
Niamh had poked fun to Jessie when the two of you walked in and Jessie looked exhausted while you were grinning ear to ear.
“Long night again?” She bumped Jessie with her shoulder as you walked ahead to your locker.
“Oh my god Niamh, this time it was before bed, then twice in the middle of the night when we were both awake, and then again this morning. My body can only handle so much. I’m sore. I’m sore, from sex!”
“Oh boo hoo Fleming, god forbid your wife wants you to fuck her an insane amount.”
Jessie blushed at Niamh vulgarity. “I know Niamh, and I love her, and she’s literally growing my child, so of course I want to give her everything she needs and wants. And I love having sex with her, but oh my god a person can only take so much, it’s like the second week of this too.”
“Then get something to help.” Niamh shrugged, hoping to help her friend while not upsetting you.
To solve her own pain, Jessie went out and bought you a couple new toys that the two of you could share while preserving her muscles. You were plenty satisfied with the new purchases, enjoying them with Jessie. Jessie was satisfied that she was able to go about her daily tasks and not have her fingers or forearm cramp up on her.
Month 5
This was the month you found out the gender of your baby. You had gone to the doctor to get an ultrasound, when you told the technician you didn’t want to know the gender right away they sealed the reveal in an envelope for the two of you to take and open on your own time. You then gave that envelope off to Magda and Pernille as they were in town, allowing them to set up your gender reveal. They weren’t around as much, you and Jessie had been close with them on Chelsea and wanted them to have a role in your pregnancy. When you asked them to help with this they were ecstatic. You didn’t want anything too crazy or over the top. They had set up a small gathering, you, Jessie, Niamh, Zerica, with Pernille and Magda hosting what made up your small Chelsea family. They had cooked everyone a dinner, making it a nice evening, in addition to the gender reveal.
They had made a cake, covered in a white frosting, the inside cake was dyed pink or blue. You were so excited seeing the cake, you had asked for something simple and not over the top, that’s exactly what they had given you, and it was cake, you loved cake. You and Jessie both held the knife as you cut a slide into the cake while everyone else stood watching, Magda and P watching your and Jessie’s faces, already knowing the gender they didn’t need to watch the knife the way that the rest of you were.
You had burst into tears when you pulled the knife out and the pink tint frosting and cake crumbs clung to the knife. Magda and P both looked horrified at your reaction, not knowing what happened while Jessie, Niamh, and Z laughed. The three of them having a front row seat to your emotional swings everyday at training. Jessie gently rubbed your back through your emotions.
“I’m so happy. I promise.” You really didn’t care what your baby was, you would’ve been an emotional wreck boy or girl. “I’m just so excited.”
Niamh takes the cake and knife away from you, going to cut it up and serve it to everyone. You dry your tears and Z pulls you into a big hug.
“I’m going to make her a keeper.” She whispers to you. “Don’t tell the rest of them.” You laugh into her hug.
Month 6
You were laying on the couch after a long day of doing hardly anything, but everything felt exhausting these days. You couldn’t sleep on your stomach like you usually did. Sleeping on your back was anything but comfortable, and your side wasn’t much better. Your legs hurt, your ankles hurt, your feet hurt, everything was miserable.
You often would just lay on the couch after you and Jessie returned home from training, her practicing, you watching and coaching. Jessie would lay next to you, her hands always finding their way to your belly, gently holding it, drawing circles, she’d lean in, placing her lips to your bump kissing it gently and softly speaking to the baby.
“You’re going to be so loved, you already are so loved. I can’t wait to meet you.”
Jessie had already told the baby about how you two met, all about your first date, how you proposed to her and how she proposed back, she talked about your wedding, she told the baby everything.
Jessie was resting next to you, her ear pressed against your belly as she whispered to the baby, her hand gently caressing your skin. One thing about Jessie was she couldn’t keep her hands off your bump. She always asked to touch you and you always said yes but once you gave her permission, her hands would remain on you as long as she could.
“Hi baby girl”
That’s when you feel it and Jessie feels it. Your baby is kicking. It’s not painful but it’s uncomfortable as you feel the pressure from her foot inside of you.
“Babe?!” Jessie pulls her head from on your stomach, eyes wide in panic as she looks up at you.
“Did you feel that?” You weren’t sure if Jessie felt it outside of your stomach, you felt it inside.
“She kicked! Oh my god she kicked.”
“She kicked!” You exclaimed, bringing your hand back down to where the previous kick had been. Feeling the baby kick again. Jessie looks up at you, her eyes slightly teary.
“That’s our little girl.” Jessie says, her hand on your stomach still, a tear spilling over as she looks at you with love in her eyes. “Our baby.”
You baby kicks a few more times, each time you and Jessie look at each other with big smiles. “With a kick like that she’ll end up a striker like her mama.” Jessie says after one of the stronger kicks she gives you.
“We’ll see, Z said she’s making her a keeper.”
Month 7
You came home from a day out with your own mom to loud noises and voices coming from the extra bedroom that was set to become a nursery. You walk over to the doorway and see your wife, hammer in one hand, the other holding paper instructions. You look further into the room and Niamh, Sam and Zerica are all standing holding various pieces of wood and hardware.
They’re all silent, staring at you as you step into the room.
“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” Jessie looks up at you from the floor. She looks concerned at your early arrival.
“I know but I was starting to not feel great so I had my mom drop me home. What are you all doing?” You look between your three teammates and wife. You’re pretty sure you can figure out what they’re doing but ask anyway.
“It was supposed to be a surprise, we were getting the nursery ready.” Jessie explained to you.
“We’re building the crib.” Sam pipes in, she holds out the piece of wood she’s holding.
You walk further into the room, reaching over to grab some of the tools wanting to help out.
“No!” Jessie says as she bats your hand away from the tools. “Sit there.” She points to what you assume is a newly built rocking chair. “You can watch and yell at us, but no helping, you need rest.”
“Fine.” You sit down on the chair hesitantly, you trusted Jessie when it came to following instructions and building something correctly but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of your teammates. The chair held you, it was surprisingly comfortable. Niamh brought over an ottoman for your feet to rest on and they all got back to work. You watched as the previously empty room became filled with wall decorations and furniture. The girls would ask where you wanted certain pictures or items within the room, it was nice to be involved while not straining yourself too much.
Month 8
You have the baby during the eighth month. 8 months and 3 weeks and a day to be exact. She arrives a little early, no concern to your doctor but her slightly early arrival has Jessie stressing in the hospital room.
“Is it too soon?”
“Babe, the doctors said it’s practically like she’s coming at full term, it’s okay. She’s just 6 days early.” You’re nearly sick from watching Jessie pace laps back and forth across your room. Her hands are either in her hair, picking at her skin, or playing with her shirt, all nervous habits.
Unfortunately your labor was anything but easy. You had started contractions in the middle of the night, you and Jessie rushing to the hospital with nothing except the perfectly packed hospital bag your wife had made.
Despite the rough labor, Jessie was the most perfect partner to have during labor. She did well under stress, despite her earlier nerves once you were actually ready to have the baby she was level headed again. Jessie was attentive to you, bringing you ice chips, new blankets, rubbing your feet, rubbing your back. She was advocating for you whenever the opportunity arose. When you decided you wanted an epidural after trying to tough out the pain for 7 hours, she didn’t question you, she happily held your hand as the medicine was put in your back.
It wasn’t until 12 hours after you had gotten to the hospital that your baby girl made her arrival. Jessie let you squeeze her hand so hard you were convinced you were going to break it and she never complained once. She helped you by holding one of your legs as she pressed her forehead to yours, whispering words of encouragement and praise. She occasionally would look, wanting to see her baby girl despite her being adamant that she wasn’t going to look prior to arriving at the hospital, she was worried about getting queasy, she didn’t always do well with blood.
When your daughter finally came out crying they placed her quickly onto your bare chest quickly followed by a blanket.
“You’re incredible. That was amazing, I love you.” Jessie whispered with tears running down her face. Her eyes look between you and your daughter on your chest. You got to watch as Jessie cut the umbilical cord, a huge grin across her face.
Nurses then took your daughter, cleaned her up and swaddled her into a soft pink blanket. They come to hand back your daughter to you, you look over to your wife who’s patiently standing watching you, she hasn't yet gotten to hold your little girl.
“You want to hold her?” You ask and Jessie just nods at you. The nurse passes Jessie the bundle with your daughter wrapped inside.
You watch as Jessie holds your daughter for the very first time, you get emotional, tears welling up. Jessie looks up to you, her eyes matching yours, on the brink of tears.
“Thank you for making me a mom.”
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laneywrld · 2 days
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part two
word count: 10k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate
It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.
Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.
Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 
Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.
Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 
Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.
Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  
Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.
She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 
She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.
She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.
Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 
She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.
That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.
Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.
When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 
Lewis 🏁
How's your date?
She shakes her head, typing out her response.
dense. how's silverstone? 
Lewis 🏁
Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.
i'm sorry 😞  
Lewis 🏁
I'm going to need you tonight.
Lewis, i'm on a date.
Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.
Lewis 🏁
Is he getting lucky tonight?
NO!
Lewis 🏁
So why can't I?
Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 
She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 
She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.
Lewis 🏁
My jet will be waiting for you.
That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 
When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 
It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.
"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.
He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.
"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."
"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.
"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.
Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 
She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 
After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.
She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."
"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.
Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 
Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.
Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 
He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.
Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.
"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.
She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."
"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."
His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.
"Okay." 
Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.
"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.
Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?
She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.
"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 
She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.
"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"
Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 
Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.
"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"
Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."
"Why that?"
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 
-
They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.
"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 
"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."
"Come on, beautiful."
He sits up, forcing her up with him.
She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 
He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.
He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.
He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.
There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.
"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.
She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.
When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.
This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 
She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 
"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.
As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.
The screen lights up with notifications. 
One catches her eye from, Natalie.
Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.
Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.
It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.
Still on for tomorrow?
At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.
"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 
She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 
He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.
Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.
But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.
She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 
Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.
-
She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.
He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.
"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"
She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 
Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.
When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.
"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.
"Hi, George, I'm Clem."
"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.
"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."
George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.
"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"
She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.
Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."
And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.
George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.
"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."
"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.
Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.
When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.
She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.
She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.
"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.
"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.
"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.
"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.
She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.
She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.
"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"
She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."
"Then get in the fucking car."
Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 
He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.
Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 
Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.
It has him hard instantly.
"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.
"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."
Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.
"I want to kiss you, but people will see."
She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.
"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.
"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 
"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."
"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.
"You like fucking with me." He declares.
Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.
"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.
He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.
 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 
He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.
He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.
Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.
When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 
He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 
She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.
He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 
"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.
He looks stressed and zoned out.
"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.
Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.
She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."
That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."
She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."
Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.
Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."
"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.
Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.
"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.
"Time to race, Lewis."
She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.
Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.
She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.
When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 
She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 
She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.
She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.
She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.
She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 
She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 
She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.
His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.
Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 
"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.
She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.
"I can feel it in my bones." 
"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.
Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 
He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.
"Well, that's me."
Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.
"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.
"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.
"Get in the car, Hamilton."
She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.
She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.
Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.
She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.
"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.
"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."
Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.
Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"
She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."
Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.
"Intense, yeah?" He questions.
"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."
"First time coming to a race?"
She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."
She laughs, "Right."
The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 
He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.
But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.
Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.
Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.
It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 
He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.
This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 
That anger got him P3. 
He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.
Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.
She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.
She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.
When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.
But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 
When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 
There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.
He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.
He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.
He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 
"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."
Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 
"Can you walk?" 
She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 
Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.
He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.
Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.
Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 
"I had fun," she announces.
"I'm glad."
"You got podium." She cheers lowly.
Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.
She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 
The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.
When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.
As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.
Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.
"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.
"No, I don't." 
"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.
"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.
"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 
"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.
Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.
"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.
She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.
He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 
"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 
He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.
She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.
He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.
Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 
He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 
Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 
She tasted so good.
Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 
Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 
He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.
He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.
"Fuck."
Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.
Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 
When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 
She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.
He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 
"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.
"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.
"I think you do." 
His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.
"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.
"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"
Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.
Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 
He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 
He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.
Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 
This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.
Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.
Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.
She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 
Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.
He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.
"Woah." she pants.
Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.
Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.
"I booked you a room."
He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.
"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  
"It's just a floor below, suite 909."
Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"
Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.
"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.
Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 
"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.
Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."
She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.
She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 
Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 
 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."
Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.
She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.
And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.
She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 
The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 
She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.
For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 
It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.
Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.
It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.
-
Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 
He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.
He regrets his actions. 
He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 
He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"
He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 
He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.
He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.
He never stood a chance against her charm.
He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.
-
When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 
"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.
The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.
"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."
Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.
Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 
-
Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 
Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.
Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 
"That was fun." She exhales.
He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 
This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 
He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.
"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."
Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.
He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.
It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 
He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.
Everything unchanged, nothing new.
Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.
So he tries dating. 
And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.
Their eyes don't gleam like hers.
They don't understand his humor.
They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.
They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.
They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.
They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.
Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.
And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 
When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.
clemmy 🪂
I need to see you, where are you?
He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.
He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.
He'd take any sight of her he could get.
-
Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 
If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 
She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 
How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 
But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.
Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 
clementine
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liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others
clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 
view all comments
feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿
clementine the coolest 😎
lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR
clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️
user no bc who did my girl like that
clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃
user builds character my ass, go beat his ass
user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???
clementine yk im filming girl 🙄
clementine
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liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others
clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?
danielricciardo In your hands slaps
clementine you sir, have great taste 😘
user daniel what are you doing here 😭
user No really, weird ass crossover episode
user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen
clementine you noticing the small details >>>
justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me
clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂
user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm
feliciathegoat i love my bestie
clementine and I love u T 🥹
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-
Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.
He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.
Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 
He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 
He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 
He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 
He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.
She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.
"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."
"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."
She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.
His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.
She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.
"I love you."
She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"
He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."
"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.
"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.
"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 
He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.
"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."
Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."
"But you did, " she cries.
"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."
"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 
"I promise I do, Clem."
She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."
He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."
"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."
It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 
"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.
"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."
"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 
"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.
"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.
"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 
"Are we still friends?"
"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 
"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.
She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."
"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 
"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.
"Starting over, right?"
"Yeah, starting over."
Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.
Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 
"Thank you for showing up for me."
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Not proofread
the album:
bad religion - frank ocean
in your hands - halle
i think- tyler, the creator
saturn- sza
broken is the man- jorja smith
everything is gonna be alright- infinity song
everything- kehlani
mine- beyonce ft drake
poison- beyonce
are we still friends- tyler, the creator
eternal sunshine- jhene aiko
<3
209 notes · View notes
queenxxxsupreme · 2 days
Text
At the End of the World (Cooper Howard x reader)
(Part 2)
A/N: So I don’t know how much I like this, but I think after this piece I’m going to try to follow some of the show but just add my own little twists into it :) I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!!
Warning: nothing outside of canon, mentions of bad dreams and of child loss, a twisted ankle
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Sometimes Lucy doesn’t know when to stop asking questions. Here is Part 1 in case anyone missed it :)
You jolted awake, eyes opening wide and lips parting with a soft gasp. Your heart beat so hard against your chest that it actually hurt.
“Easy, doll.”
You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Cooper. Your head rested in his lap, his hand gently brushing over your hair.
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your hands over your face.
“Shit.” You cursed.
”Everything alright?”
”Yeah. Yeah, um…. Just a bad dream, I guess.” You looked over your shoulder to him. You moved to sit against your backpack, your leg brushing against Cooper’s. You bent your knees slightly, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “Do you have my smokes?”
He reached into the pocket on his jacket for the carton of cigarettes and a lighter. You took the carton and pulled out a cigarette. His eyes watched you put the stick between your lips. With a flick of his thumb, a flame appeared over the lighter. You leaned over to light the cigarette, taking a small breath.
“Heart’s racin’.” He commented.
You leaned back, blowing a cloud of smoke out of your mouth.
Your hand falls down to your lap, the cigarette dangling loosely between two fingers.
You try to fight the feeling, to fight the scratchy lump forming in your throat. Your right eye stings with tears and your chest tightened as if you were being suffocated.
“I miss her so much, Coop.” Though your voice was weak, he could hear your words just fine.
“I know ya do, doll.”
You hastily brushed the tears off of your cheek. Your gaze fell upon the Vault Dweller that laid fast asleep just a few feet away from you.
You raised the cigarette to your lips, the stick trembling just slightly in your grip.
“My Gracie would be about her age now.”
Wordlessly, Cooper reached over to place his hand on your knee. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to make you feel better. As a parent himself, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Though for him, there was the smallest chance that his girl was still alive. He just wasn’t sure.
”Finish that cigarette, doll, then you need to try to go to sleep.”
You stiffly shook your head.
“I don’t want to sleep. If-If I have to see her again….” You trailed off.
Cooper let out a soft sigh. You were one stubborn lady.
Silence fell between the two of you. Your eyes seemed glued to Lucy but your gaze was blank. Even though you sat right next to him, you were a thousand miles away.
***
When the sun came up, you, Lucy, and Cooper were back to trudging across the Wasteland. You walked a few feet ahead of Lucy and behind her was Cooper. His eyes continuously scanned the Wasteland for any signs of danger, one hand resting on a handgun on his hip. He had bound Lucy’s hands before the three of you started your journey. He didn’t trust her.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Lucy spoke as she jogged to catch up to you. You glanced over to her for a few moments before looking back to the path ahead.
“I’m not feeling too chatty today. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
”Are you okay?”
”Yes, I’m fine.”
”I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately too.” Lucy sighed out. “There’s just…. There’s so much death and-and blood. I don’t know how people do it.”
”We don’t have any other choice.”
”Yeah, I guess.” The vault dweller shrugged her shoulders.
“Some of us have had to go through so much that the thought of giving up now seems…. It seems pointless. We just….” You paused for a moment. “We just have to keep finding the next thing to keep us going.”
”Like what?” She looked over to you. “Icy, I-I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. You had a family, a whole family and-and now…. I wouldn’t be able to keep going.”
You pressed your lips together. You wanted to be angry with her, to be upset with her. If she thought that everything that had happened to her in the short time she’s been on the surface was bad, she was in for a nasty surprise.
“Sometimes after such loss…. It takes finding someone else who has been through similar things to keep you going.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the Ghoul that traveled a little ways behind them.
The vaultie followed you down a slight incline, but she stepped the wrong way and twisted her ankle. Immediately, she fell to the ground from the pain.
“Ah! Ow! Ow, ow ow!”
”Quiet down, girly.” You knelt down beside her. She clutched at her ankle, groaning in pain. With your cybernetic left eye, you could see that she had overstretched the ligaments.
”What the hell happened, Vaultie?” Cooper looked down at the two of you.
“She sprained her ankle.” You sighed, untying her boot.
“Course she did.”
“Wait, what-what are you doing?” Lucy furrowed her brows.
”Your ankle is going to swell and if you leave it in your boot, it’ll only do you more damage.”
”Oh. O-Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess.” Lucy breathed. “Are-Are you a doctor?”
You looked at her for a couple moments. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she was being serious or joking with you.
You put the boot into your backpack and stood up.
“She’s not going to be able to walk much longer, Coop.”
”Well she don’t got much of a choice, does she?”
You looked to the west where the sun was beginning to set.
“We’re about four hours out from Alma’s.” You looked to Cooper. His jaw went slack as he brought his hand up to rub his brow.
“Damn it.”
”Who’s Alma?” Lucy started to try to stand up. You held your hand out for her to help her to her feet, then you cut off the rope binding her hands together. It would make it easier to help her walk with her hands not stuck together. “Thanks.”
”She’s a friend.”
”A friend ain’t what I’d call her. She tried to kill me last time I saw her.”
”Well she isn’t exactly your biggest fan, Cooper.”
The Ghoul held your gaze. He didn’t want to go all the way to Alma’s. It was out of the way and would just tack more time on to the trip. Not to mention, he didn’t want Alma involved. But with Lucy’s new injury, you really didn’t have a choice.
”I reckon we’re goin’ to Alma’s.”
”Come on, Lucy.” You moved to stand on her right side to provide her support while she walked.
***
Six Hours Later
It was dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was in what used to be a suburban neighborhood but many of the houses had long since been abandoned. You passed by one derelict house after another, eyes carefully scanning broken windows and rubble for any signs of danger. You knew the danger would be limited as Alma was in charge of most of the raiders in the area, but sometimes the raiders were a little rowdy and eager to attack.
There was one house that stood a little better than those around it. Its windows were mostly boarded up and there was a barbed wire fence around it. The siding of the house had long since lost its original color, instead taking on a more rusty brown color. The right side of the roof to the front porch had fallen in and it made the house appear unsafe to enter.
You stopped at the fence and let Lucy go.
“You two stay out here for just a moment.” Your eyes flickered back to Cooper. He nodded once in acknowledgement.
You slipped between the barbed fencing and then climbed the creaky wooden stairs. Just as you were about to knock on the door, it was pulled open.
An older woman stood in the doorway, a shotgun by her side. Her dark but graying hair was put up in some sort of high mess atop her head. Behind large lensed wire framed glasses were two big brown eyes.
“Icy May. Ain’t no way in hell I thought I’d be seein’ you again.” The shotgun in her hand was leaned against the wall on the inside of the house.
“Hello, Alma.” You smiled, embracing her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
”You too, dear. So good to see such a pretty face.” She pulled away to get a better look at you. “You look all in one piece. What brings you all the way out this way, darlin?”
”I have a huge favor to ask you.” You stepped aside so that Alma could see the two who traveled with you.
Alma leaned forward, eyes squinting as she struggled to see whoever it was even with her glasses on.
“Oh hell, Icy May.” She shook her head, adjusting the old cardigan that she wore.
“Well ain’t it my favorite old maid.” Cooper spoke, giving Lucy a nudge to go through the fence. Lucy slipped between two of the barbed wires and nervously started for the stairs.
“Shut the hell up, you old bastard. I still haven’t gotten over what you did last time you was here.” Alma nodded her head to the side of the porch that had fallen in.
“I happen to think it made this place look better. More welcomin’.”
”Well I ain’t trying to be more welcomin’.” Alma put her hands on her hips. Her eyes followed Lucy as she struggled to get up the stairs. “What in the hell is this, Icy? A vault dweller?”
”It’s a long story, Alma.” You shook your head. “We just need to rest for the night.”
Her eyes flickered up to you, hesitating. A vault dweller could mean big trouble.
”Aw, what the hell.” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go into her house. She picked up the shotgun she had left by the door.
You offered Lucy your shoulder once again and walked with her to the living room.
The house wasn’t as bad on the inside as it was on the outside. Wallpaper was peeling off of the walls and in some places, it was missing all together. There was a fireplace that had been filled up with rocks. A sofa, which had definitely seen better days, was in the living room. Beside it was a rocking chair and a little end table. It appeared as though the end table was a combination of two different tables put together.
“You have a lovely home.” Lucy complimented.
Alma shook her head, swatting a hand at the Vaultie.
“There’s food in the pantry and water in the washroom down the hall. You’d better get cleaned up and settled for the night. It’s already late.”
”Thank you, Alma.” You offered her a little smile. “We’ll be gone when the sun rises.”
”Better be. Don’t want Howard fuckin’ anything up anymore than he got to.”
“Missed you too, ya old bat.” Cooper muttered.
You took Lucy to the washroom and left her there, then you went to the kitchen. Cooper was already helping himself to the pantry. He sat at the kitchen table with a can of some sort of nonperishable food.
“There’s the couch in the living room and there’s two rooms with mattresses.” Alma told you. She moved around the kitchen, gathering up a canteen and a pack of cigarettes.
”Where are you scurryin’ off to?” Cooper asked her.
”I ain’t scurryin’ nowhere, asshole. It’s past my bedtime and you bunch look worse than the backside of a feral hog.” Alma stopped at you to give you a one armed hug. “We’ll talk in the mornin’, honey.”
”Good night, Alma.”
”Night, girly.”
You watched her leave the kitchen then listened to the floorboards creak as she disappeared down the hallway.
“You should eat somethin’.” Cooper spoke. You rubbed his shoulder before moving to pull a chair up beside him.
“I will.”
It felt nice to finally be able to sit down. Your feet hurt and you were exhausted.
Cooper leaned forward to give your knee a squeeze. Your eyes flickered up to meet his gaze.
***
A little while later, Lucy had retired to the room she was going to be staying in. You and Cooper would be sharing the other mattress in the room across the hall from Lucy.
You made your way down the hallway, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to disturb Alma.
You came to a stop in the doorway of Lucy’s room, watching her as she sat on the edge of the mattress . She was in the process of eating a can of peaches when she noticed you were standing in the door.
“Oh, um…” She quickly swallowed a peach and held the can out towards you. “Do you want a peach?”
”No, thank you.” You shook your head. “Alma is a good friend of mine.”
”Oh, yeah! She’s incredible. Super nice person.”
”Can I trust you to be here, Lucy?”
She stopped eating the peaches and directed her attention to you.
“She’s taking a big risk letting us stay here for the night. If anything happened to her while we were here….” You trailed off. “Alma’s one of the last few good people out here.”
She nodded her head softly, understanding what you were telling her.
”So do I have to keep an eye on you or can I trust you?”
”You can trust me.”
You weren’t sure you completely believed her.
“Good.” You turned to leave but she stopped you.
“Thank you, Icy. For…. For everything.”
You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.
“You need to stop thanking me.”
“You’ve practically saved my life by showing up. Who knows what that man would’ve done with me if you hadn’t come along.”
You gazed at her for a few moments, her bright blue eyes still filled with some sort of kindness. It wasn’t often that you came across those kinds of people.
“Good night, Lucy.”
“Oh, uh good night, Icy.” Lucy was confused with your sudden ending of the conversation. That seemed to be a trait of yours.
You moved down the hallway, your quiet footsteps still making the floorboards squeak.
Cooper was in the room the two of you would be sharing. He had taken off his bandolier, holster belt, and duster coat. All items had been placed in a pile at the foot of the mattress. The ghoul was lounging across the mattress with his breather in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and his shoulders leaning up against your backpack. One knee was bent and that was where his hat rested.
His eyes watched as you took off most of your layers. First it was your jacket, then the old flannel, and tattered sweatshirt. You were left in cargo pants, boots, and a thin brown tank top that had definitely seen better days. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail it was in to fix it up for the night.
“My, my, my. Ain’t you a sight fit for kings.”
I tried to bite back the smile that crept across your face but it was no use.
“Keep the charming to yourself, old man. We need to get some sleep.” You sat down on the mattress facing the ghoul. You leaned your torso against his bent leg, picking up his hat and placing it on your head.
He offered you the cigarette, which you gladly took. His breather was discarded on the floor beside the mattress.
You inhaled and held the chemicals in your lungs for a few moments. As you exhaled, Cooper brought his hand up to cup your face. His thumb, calloused and rough, traced your bottom lip.
You let him do so, your eyes steadily watching his face.
He traced the curve of your bottom lip, then used his fingertips to trail along your cheekbone and your temple. He brushed a few pieces of hair back out of your face.
”So what’s your big plan once we get to Hank MacLean?”
The ghoul paused for a moment, pulling his hand away from your face to rest it on his chest. You passed the cigarette back to him and he took it.
”I want to know what happened to them.” He was quiet as to not let his voice carry throughout the otherwise silent house.
You nodded your head. Cooper waited for you to speak. He waited, and waited, and waited. But you said nothing. All you could do was gaze down at one of the buttons on his shirt. The original button, which had been a light shade of brown, was torn off some time ago but you recall sewing a dark green button in its place.
“Say somethin’, doll.” He urged you, tapping the side of your leg gently.
You bit the inside of your cheek, finishing off the cigarette with a deep inhale.
“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for, sweetheart.” You put the cigarette out on the soul of your boot and started to move, wanting to reposition yourself. Cooper stopped you from moving, his hand grabbing yours.
“I just…. I have to find out, Icy.”
”I know.” You murmured softly with a nod of your head. “I’d want to know too, if I was in your place.”
It wasn’t like the two of you were in a full fledged relationship where one of you had asked the other to commit to you, but it also wasn’t casual. Cooper Howard didn’t do casual. It was far too hard to trust someone enough for that sort of thing.
”Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.” He put his head back, his hand steadily rubbing your leg as he directed his eyes to the ceiling. “I mean, if MacLean has been able to live this long, then there’s a chance…. even the smallest of one…. that they could be out there.”
You smiled a little, though it was sad and didn’t reach your eyes. If you believed in a higher power, you would pray to them to make it all true, to make his hopes and desires a reality. It was what he deserved after all that he had been through.
Though you wanted to be happy for him, your chest tightened a little with the idea of him finding his family. What would happen to you if he found his wife and his daughter?
You reached out to take his hand away from your leg, clasping your fingers together tightly.
“I hope they are.” You brought his hand up to kiss the inside of his wrist.
Cooper watched you kiss his wrist once, then twice before holding his hand in your lap. He didn’t let you linger in your thoughts for too long. He pulled you down towards him, making you lay down beside him.
“It’s nothin’ but wishful thinking.” He thought out loud.
“Sometimes that’s all that keeps us going.”
***
The Next Morning
Lucy made her way out of her room, using the wall for support as she limped down the hallway. She peered into the living room and found it empty. Her next stop was the kitchen.
The Ghoul sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in an assortment of junk. He was wiping off one of his hand guns.
Lucy looked around the kitchen, hoping and praying she’d find you or Alma.
Cooper glanced up at the vault dweller, very briefly meeting her gaze before looking back down at his weapons.
“Oh, um…. Good morning.” Lucy greeted him in an attempt to be friendly, but friendly wasn’t Cooper Howard’s thing.
He stayed silent.
Lucy leaned against the doorway to take her weight off of her ankle.
”Is Icy up yet?”
”She went out with Alma.” His answer was short and stiff.
“Oh, okay.” Lucy nodded her head.
She stood there for a few moments awkwardly. Should she just go back to the bedroom and hideout until you and Alma returned?
Oh, what the heck.
Lucy limped over to the table and pulled out a bulky wooden chair to sit in. She sighed in relief as she sat down. She examined the amount of junk on the table, curious as to what exactly everything was.
It wasn’t long before Lucy became bored and found herself watching the ghoul that had taken her hostage.
“So…. Is your name Cooper? Or is it Howard? Because, well, I heard Icy call you one and Alma called you another. So I guess I’m just a little confused.” She chuckled nervously.
”My name don’t matter to you, Vaultie.” He sat the handgun down on the table then picked up a shotgun.
“Well I’d like to have something to call you when I talk to you, to have a conversation like real people do.”
”Ah, but who said I wanted to have a conversation with you?”
Lucy pressed her lips together. This man was awfully hard to get along with.
”That’s fair, I guess.” She nodded.
Silence fell between the two as Cooper continued to clean the gun. Once he was finished cleaning the sawed off shotgun, he began to load it.
Lucy sighed, bored out of her mind. Cooper wasn’t entertaining at all. She messed with the cuff on her suit to try to keep herself occupied and to try to keep her mouth shut for a little bit longer.
“Do you love her?” The question kind of just came out without Lucy really realizing what she had said.
Cooper dropped the bullet that he was trying to shove into his gun. It made a loud banging noise as it hit the floor.
“What in the hell did you just say to me, Miss MacLean?” He looked at her, his eyes dark and sharpened.
The use of her name made Lucy feel on edge. He had always just called her Vaultie.
“I-I was just— I just see the way you guys are with each other. I didn’t mean it in-in a bad way, you know?”
The ghoul was silent as he held her gaze. He leaned forward to retrieve the bullet from the ground. He shoved it into the gun and placed the gun on the table.
The front door to the house creaked open. Lucy turned her head to see. You and Alma walking in.
“How’d you sleep, honey?” Alma put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. The vault dweller opened her mouth to answer but Alma spoke over her. “Howard, if you don’t get your damn guns off my table, I’m gonna beat the piss outta you.”
Cooper didn’t offer any sort of smart comment back. He just picked up each gun and tucked them into their appropriate holster.
“I slept well, thank you. Where, uh, where did you guys go?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to you.
“Had to make a run early this morning.” You placed your backpack on the table, pushing some of the junk back so you had space. You rummaged through the bag before pulling out a stimpack. ”How’s your ankle feeling?”
”Really bad, actually. It’s super sore and looks very bruised.” Lucy eyed the giant needle at the end of the stimpack. “What’s, um, what’s that for?”
”You’re ankle. You can’t travel with a busted ankle and we can’t stay here.”
”But what is it?”
”A stimpack. It will heal your ankle up enough to get you back on your feet.”
With no warning, Cooper stood up and left the room rather hastily. Old floorboards creaked beneath the weight of his worn boots.
“What crawled up his ass?” Alma pushed her glasses back on to her head to hold her hair back out of her eyes.
“I don’t know.” You hummed. You listened to him move around in one of the back bedrooms.
He wasn’t a chatty person by any means, but surely he would’ve greeted you and Alma with some sort of witty remark. And you were very positive he would’ve given Alma an asinine remark about his guns on her table.
“What happened while we were gone?” You turned your attention to Lucy.
“I-I was just trying to talk with him.” She put her hands up, shaking her head.
“And…. Boy is he difficult to have a conversation with.”
You sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the vaultie get it through her head that sometimes she needed to shut up?
“I’ll be back in a second, Alma.” You looked over to your friend before going down the hallway to the bedroom Cooper was in.
He stood leaning against the side of the open window. He was fidgeting with his breather, replacing the empty vial with a full one.
”You leave me with that girl again, woman, and you’re gonna be scrapin’ what’s left of her brain off of Alma’s walls.” He grumbled.
You pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of your jacket.
“She’s got a way of getting under your skin.” You put the cigarette between your lips and tucked the carton away, then pulled out a lighter. “What’d she say?”
”Don’t matter.” He took a puff of the breather. You held the cigarette out to him and he gladly took it, crossing the room and closing the space between the two of you in just a few strides.
You watched as he put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag from him.
“I’ll fuckin’ gut her like a pig next time she tries to talk to me.”
”You don’t mean that.” You shook your head gently.
He exhaled the cigarette smoke right into your face, then took another quick puff of it.
”Like hell I don’t.”
You took the cigarette from between his fingers.
“She means well.”
Cooper watched you, his gaze still hard and angry. You inhaled the cigarette.
“What did she say to you, Cooper?” Your voice was quiet.
He looked down at you for a while. Then let out a breath and adjusted the hat on his head, casting his eyes downward to his boots.
”We need to be leavin’.”
Without another word, the Ghoul slipped past you to go down the hallway.
taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 (I think I tagged anyone but I’m so sorry if I missed you!)
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star-hoon · 2 days
Text
OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2
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I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX
READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST
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pairing: sunghoon x fem reader
includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, eventual smut (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta)  (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 4.3k
synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?
author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!
OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK
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“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.
holy. fuck. it was sage.
the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.
you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.
you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.
you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!
sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.
his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.
you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.
"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."
sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.
"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.
you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.
"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"
"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.
sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."
the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.
her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.
best friend. ex. .....
you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.
even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.
but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.
"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"
sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"
"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.
it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.
"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.
"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.
people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.
"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."
tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?
she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.
you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.
"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.
he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.
you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.
"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.
"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."
your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.
usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.
you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.
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the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.
your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"
the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.
"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"
'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.
you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.
"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"
"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.
you could not look him in the eye and tell him.
"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.
"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."
shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.
"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."
he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.
"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."
you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.
"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.
you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.
"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."
you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.
you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.
the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.
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you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.
you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.
is that really how sage felt about you all this time?
you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?
is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?
you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.
you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.
you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.
you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.
calling 'park sunghoon'....
after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.
"hey, may i ask who's calling?"
"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"
there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.
"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.
"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."
he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.
"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."
"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.
"of course, i'll be there 5"
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you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.
sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.
"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.
"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"
you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.
sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.
you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.
"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.
you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.
"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".
different he thought.
he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.
"y/n-"
"i-"
he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."
"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."
"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"
you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.
"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"
"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.
"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.
"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.
sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.
he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.
"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."
you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.
"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."
he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.
you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.
what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.
you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.
but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.
the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.
he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.
"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"
he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.
you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.
you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.
the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.
he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.
he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.
he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.
his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.
"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."
you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.
you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.
"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.
"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.
understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.
you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.
"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?
you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.
his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.
he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.
"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"
"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.
"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.
with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"
"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.
"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.
when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"
"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.
he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.
"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.
"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.
his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.
"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.
"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.
"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.
sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.
your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.
sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.
the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.
"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"
he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"
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sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.
"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.
you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.
"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.
he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.
"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.
"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.
who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?
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taglist:  @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz
ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH
+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!
271 notes · View notes
joonsmagicshop · 22 hours
Text
Stress Relief Series- MYG
 Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.
Paring: Yoongi/Reader (Namjoon, Jin and Taehyung are mentioned)
Rating: M/18+
Word Count: 5k
Tags: smut, fingering, eating pussy, soft Yoongi, dom Yoongi, hand jobs, cum eating, dirty talk.
Authors Note: My sweet Yoongi.
In case you missed it
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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Yoongi knew he should have changed the code on his door ages ago.
Maybe he would actually get work done if he did.
His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled his headphones tighter against his ears to block out the sound of his bandmates talking.
His shoulders were starting to hurt from being so slouched over a computer desk his eyes were dry and his patience was thin
So very thin.
Yoongi knew what his strengths were, making music was one of them but lately he felt as if he had just hit a wall and could not break through it. He was stuck, musically constipated as Hobi said, which caused everyone to break out into giggles and Yoongi to shoot Hobi a very lewd gesture causing everyone to burst into laughs again
Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to get in a happy calm mindset but he could still hear Taehyung and Namjoon teasing each other in the background and Jin munching away on something.
Yoongi had enough and he ripped his headphones and turned the chair around.
“Alright everyone out! You all are annoying and I can’t concentrate. I’m changing the passcode tomorrow so out. Now.” He demands as Namjoon and Tae stare at him in shock and Jin just kept eating.
“We aren’t even doing anything! You had your headphones in the whole time!” Tae argues as he shoots Yoongi his signature pout which usually works, but not today.
“I could still hear you and Namjoon chatting. Out! Seriously I can’t concentrate. And Jin stop eating and getting crumbs everywhere. Honestly” Yoongi grumbles as he crosses his arms and stares them all down.
“Yoongi you spend all your time here we feel like we haven’t seen you except at dance practice. We wanted to hang out with you.” Namjoon says standing up and coming to sit in the chair next to Yoongi, concern written all over his face.
Yoongi let out a sigh, he didn’t mean to make Namjoon concerned, he had enough to worry about as their leader.
“Yeah, Yoongi I just wanted to hang out with my favorite Hyung.” Tae pouts as Yoongi shoots him a small smile.
“Rude!” Jin calls out kicking Taehyung’s shin and Namjoon puts a hand over his heart fake offended.
“Laying it on thick to stay. Nice try but no. Out all of you.” Yoongi says as Taehyung and Jin grumble but gather their things.
“I’ll stay and help you with the song,” Namjoon responds as he grabs the spare headphones out of the desk drawer and scoots closer.
“Thank you Namjoon. Finally some help.” Yoongi complains as the other two roll their eyes.
“Wow, Yoongi you seem stressed…” Taehyung starts with a smirk and Yoongi knows where he is going with this.
He hasn’t forgotten the proposition Taehyung made to them a month and a half prior. He had just been so busy he hadn’t thought about it.
Well okay, he has thought about it but it’s usually after a long studio session or dance session very late at night when it would be rude to call upon a stranger, so Yoongi would let his hand wrap around his cock and imagine it was someone else. Those were the nights he slept the best.
“Yeah, Yoongi you might want to do something about that. If only there was someone to help.” Jin teased as they both refused to leave standing by the door with matching smirks.
“Did I not tell you to get out?” Yoongi shoots back as he stares them down giving them death glares.
“Okay, guys enough. We are all stressed out let’s not make it worse.” Namjoon says diplomatically as Yoongi feels his shoulders slump again.
“You don’t have to be you know. I gave you a way out…an option.” Taehyung reminds them with a wave of his cell phone which has Jin cracking up beside him.
“Enough. Out.” Yoongi demands as he points to the door.
Taehyung giggles and opens the door to leave but Jin doesn’t leave just yet, his hand hovering on the door as he adjusts his bag on his shoulder.
“Ah, Namjoon I forgot to thank you for going to that exhibit and ditching me for dinner. I had a fantastic night. You really missed out".” He says teasingly with a wink as Namjoon’s eyes go wide.
Taeyhung is hunched over in the hallway cackling like a maniac and Yoongi is very close to standing up and slamming the door in their faces.
“Jin…seriously,” Namjoon whines with disapproval in his voice.
When Taehyung first brought the idea forward it was obvious that Namjoon disapproved. He reminded them they were idols and they needed to be careful and this was a huge risk. Taehyung reminded them he had been with Y/N for months and nothing had happened and his career was still intact, leaving it open for each of them to decide individually.
It seems not everyone shared Namjoon’s worry.
“And just so you know, my face is still handsome when I’m fucking someone against a mirror.” Jin finishes with a satisfied smirk as Yoongi finally has enough and stands up to slam the door in his so-called handsome face.
Taehyung and Jin run down the hallway cacking like hyenas before Yoongi can catch them and when he does slam the door it’s not as satisfying.
He runs a hand down his tired face and marches back to his computer where Namjoon is still seated in shock.
“You okay?” Yoongi asks as he fiddles around to pull up the song he had been stuck on for the past couple of days, sincerely hoping Namjoon could help him or he might scrap the whole thing out of frustration.
“Yeah, I just… they went against my warning? The maknaes I understand... they are horny little monsters but Jin? He is the oldest and supposed to be responsible? What if something happens?” Namjoon frets.
“I’m sure it will be okay. Taehyung said he has been with Y/N for a while and nothing has happened. I mean Jin was the one to point her out to him in the first place…responsible my ass. Either way, it already has happened and time machines don’t exist. We have enough to worry about with this tour.” Yoongi points out as Namjoon fiddles in his seat.
“I’m calling a meeting,” Namjoon says pulling out his phone.
Yoongi stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more. We should just leave it.” Yoongi says as Namjoon grumbles and puts his phone in his pocket.
“Let’s just focus on the song okay? Please? Or do I have to kick you out too?” Yoongi half jokes as he grabs his discarded headphones.
“Sorry, Hyung just…stressed out,” Namjoon admits as Yoongi nods and puts the headphones over his messy hair as they both get to work.
The thing about someone warning you not to do something…
It really does make you want to do it more.
This was one of those times Yoongi hated being right.
He and Namjoon worked on the song for a total of two hours and Namjoon did help him get over his creative block.
It was a good studio session and Yoongi was grateful for his friend.
However, Namjoon had plans with some friends at his house, and even though he offered an invite to Yoongi multiple times Yoongi declined.
He wanted to stay and work on the music some more despite Namjoon telling him he needed rest and to eat something.
“I’m going to text you every hour Yoongi and if you are not out of this studio by eleven I’m dragging you out,” Namjoon warns as he throws his helmet over his head and waves as he leaves.
The problem is that Yoongi had all these ideas when Namjoon was around. He felt the creative juices flowing.
Now that Namjoon is gone and he is alone everything feels wrong.
His sweater is too hot, his hair tickles his face, his eyes burn from staring at a screen for too long, his shoulders hurt, he feels itchy and irritable and he is hard, so painfully hard in his track pants it’s annoying him further.
“Namjoon no. What’s a meeting going to do anyway? You tell them not to they are going to want to do it more.”
Yoongi hates being right.
But since Jin mentioned it Yoongi has not been able to stop thinking about it. It had been ages since he had something to satisfy him other than his right hand and the thought was tempting. How amazing it would feel to slide into a tight wet pussy, how good it would feel to have someone moaning his name, taking his cock, taking care of him.
He can hear Namjoon’s panic in the back of his mind. What if something does go wrong?
However, his skin is prickling with heat and his stomach is swooping with need and just at the thought of fucking someone his cock is twitching and leaking in his track pants making his skin itch some more.
Maybe Taehyung was onto something after all.
Fuck it.
Yoongi grabs his phone from his desk with one hand and palms the head of his cock with the other. He wants to relieve at least some tension so he doesn’t blow his load the second he gets to you.
With his free hand, he types out a message.
And lucky for him it doesn’t take long for you to respond.
By the time you hear the knocking on the door, you have just gotten the food all laid on the table.
You smirk to yourself as you smooth down your shirt and open the door to see Min Yoongi standing there.
He shoots you a shy timid smile as you lead him in and right to the kitchen.
His eyes widen and you try not to laugh.
“What’s all this?” He asks blinking slowly as he takes in the dimmed lights and the takeout containers.
“Y/N you didn’t have to do this.” He says softly as you pour him a glass of water and gesture for him to sit down at the table.
“I didn’t do this. Taehyung did. Well I mean… he texted me and gave me the heads up you might reach out. When I told him you did he ordered all this food for us and said you were stuck in the studio today and probably didn’t eat. He got all your favorites… or at least that’s what he told me” You admit as you sit across from Yoongi and his eyes soften.
“He was being a menace today and I had to kick him and Jin out of my studio he really knows how to suck up,” Yoongi explains as you start to pile his plate high and he runs a hand through his hair.
“Yup, that sounds like Taehyung.” You tease as you give him his plate and work on making your own.
You pile on a little bit of everything and push your chair closer to Yoongi as you both eat.
Conversation flows freely and you find Yoongi very easy to talk to. He tells you a little bit about his day and asks you about yours.
The whole thing is very domestic for two people who just met twenty minutes ago.
Once dinner is finished you pack everything up and leave it in the fridge reminding yourself to make Yoongi take it home with him.
You turn around to see Yoongi who is sitting in the chair, arms crossed over his stomach and trying his best to keep his eyes open.
He just looks so exhausted.
“Come on Yoongi time for sleep.” You coo as his eyes slowly flutter open and a pink blush paints his cheeks.
“But- I didn’t come here just to eat and sleep, I wanna fuck you.” He says innocently as you bite back a smile and help him out of his chair.
He loops an arm around you and buries his face into your neck as you guide him to your bedroom and help him flop down on the bed.
“How about we sleep first, baby? You look two seconds away from passing out.” You say to him.
“I’m fine I promise.” He says pouting out his lower lip looking as cute as ever.
“Yoongi how about we take a little nap at least? You can’t keep your eyes open.” You push, and much to your surprise he doesn’t argue and instead climbs up the bed.
You giggle when he throws back the smallest corner of the comforter to slip under and once he gets himself situated he makes grabby hands towards you.
You throw back the covers and climb under so you are the little spoon and immediately Yoongi wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to his body so your back is pushed up against his chest and his nose is pressed into your hair.
“Thank you Y/N. m’ sorry this probably isn’t what you expected. And I don’t usually cuddle with people I don’t know…m’ just so tired.” Yoongi admits in a small voice as you push yourself closer to him and rub your hands up and down his arms.
“Yoongi let me take care of you, you are clearly exhausted from working so hard Let’s both get some rest okay?” You say softly as you bring his hand up to kiss the back of it causing him to push himself closer to you.
You were unsure how long you had slept for, all you knew was Yoongi’s arms were wrapped tightly around you and his cock was hard and pressing into your backside.
You craned your neck to look out your window seeing the sky dark and littered with stars. You both must have slept for at least a couple of hours.
You put your head back on the pillow and were about to doze off again when Yoongi let out a breathy whimper against your back and ground his cock harder into your butt. His hands tightened around you and you could hear the soft pants and whines that were spilling from his mouth as you smiled.
His moans were getting more high-pitched as he ground harder into you and your hand came around to cup at his bulge but you stopped yourself.
You never went over rules or anything with Yoongi because after you ate you both fell into a food coma-type sleep.
You weren’t sure if it was okay to touch him and you didn’t want to do it without his permission.
The only thing you could do was wake him up and just as you were about to do so you felt something else against your backside.
A pulsing vibration from a phone which meant someone was calling him.
You shook his arm to wake him and looked over your shoulder to see his eyes blearily opening as his phone continued to vibrate against your hip.
“Mm, what time is it?” He asked voice husky with sleep which made your stomach swoop, his sleepy voice was so sexy.
“Yoongi your-” You said as he suddenly realized and his eyes nearly popped open as he shoved his hard cock away from your backside and started apologizing profusely.
“No not that! I think someone is calling you. Your phone!” You say as he sits up still slightly disoriented as the vibrating stops.
But just as it stops it starts again and Yoongi leans back to fish his phone from his pocket frowning when he sees the screen.
“Shit, it’s Namjoon.” He says shooting you a look.
“I can leave if you need some privacy.” You say already turning to get out of bed, but Yoongi stops you with a strong hand on your thigh as he stares you down.
“Stay. This will be quick.” He says taking the call and holding the phone up to his ear as you slip back under the blankets.
“Hello?” Yoongi says as you fiddle with the blanket and try to make yourself look busy. Even though Yoongi wanted you to stay you still felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn’t have
You can faintly hear Namjoons worried voice over the phone. How he tried to text Yoongi multiple times and got no response.
You are about to stand up and leave despite Yoongi’s wishes when his long fingers circle your wrist and you gasp and stare at him in shock when he brings it to his hard cock and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Are you sure?” You whisper not wanting to be picked up by Namjoon on the other line as he nods and you slowly start to apply pressure to his hard cock through the thin material of his track pants.
“Mhmm. I know Joon. Mhmm.” Yoongi drawls as Namjoon continues to talk and you continue to stroke his cock through his pants watching as his hips rut up into your hand and how his eyes are fluttering with every pass of your palm.
Without hesitation, you dip your fingers into his waistband and boxers and circle the base of his cock, a choked groan leaving his lips as you hear Namjoon stop his talking, and you eye Yoongi.
“Yeah I’m okay Namjoon, sorry I just woke up from a nap.” Yoongi admits as he mouths the word “move” to you.
You dance your fingers along his painfully hard shaft and when you reach the head of his cock you can feel him dripping all over your fingers.
You gather as much of it as you can before taking your hand out of his pants and holding your fingers up to his face so he can see for himself.
His eyes widen when you take your fingers and pop them in your mouth, licking and sucking at the juices.
“Namjoon listen I have to-go I gotta go,” Yoongi says as you can hear the muffled noises of Namjoon protesting on the other line.
“Yoongi where did you nap?” You can hear Namjoon ask as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck as he throws his head back and you hear a small thump from when it hits the headboard.
“Nam-J-oon I have to go-seriously,” Yoongi says voice cracking as you suck on his neck letting your tongue flick over his warm flesh.
“Min Yoongi you better not be doing what I think you're doing!” You hear Namjoon warn.
You lick a bold stripe up his neck from collarbone to earlobe as Yoongi hangs up on his friend and throws his phone across the room.
His hands are tight on your hips as you position yourself so you are straddling him, pushing your wet core into his throbbing cock as he grabs you and pulls you in for a bruising kiss.
His lips are soft as they push into yours. His hands stay tight on your hips and your heart is racing in your chest when he wastes no time slipping his tongue into your mouth.
The kiss is heated and laced with heat and passion that it makes your head spin. He shifts his hips to push his hard cock into you and you whine against him as your core throbs with need.
“Need you. Fuck need you so bad. I’ve been hard all day thinking about this.” He mutters against your lips as his hands tug at the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head.
You can faintly hear his phone vibrating on the floor and you pull back to stare at him.
“Namjoon again?” You ask as Yoongi doesn’t seem too bothered, he is preoccupied with exploring your body with his tongue and taking off your bra.
“Yoongi your phone.” You cry out when he finally gets the bra off and his lips attach to your nipple sucking harshly causing moans to spill from your mouth and your eyes to close as your hands tangle in his hair.
“Don’t give a shit about Namjoon right now. Need you so fucking bad. Let him break down the door it’s not gonna stop me from fucking you.” Yoongi growls as he thrusts his cock up against you again and you whine.
You rake your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he stares up at you, lips still wrapped around your nipple and a grin on his face.
“Woke up so fucking hard, wish you didn’t wear pants so I could have just slipped it right in.” He admits as you groan and grind your wet pussy down on his lap.
“Gonna soak my pants, baby. Gotta take these off.” He says as he helps you off of him and crawls down the bed so he is between your legs.
Your eyes widen in shock when he pulls your pants down harshly and throws them on the floor, muffling the sound of his still-vibrating phone even more.
“You sure you don’t want to answer your phone?” You ask as Yoongi kisses up and down your legs, stealing your breath from your lungs.
“And miss the chance of eating you out to get yelled at by Namjoon. Not a fucking chance.” He growls as he slowly makes his way to your core.
He takes his sweet time kissing up your thighs as you moan and thrash on the bed. Your body is on fire with need and you feel your core throb with every swipe of his tongue on your legs and thighs.
“Yoongi… please.” You cry out as you prop yourself up on pillows to get a better view of him between your legs.
“Please what? Use your words” Yoongi demands looking smug between your legs as his fingers run along your upper thighs.
“Touch me.” You whisper holding your breath in anticipation.
“I am touching you love.” He teases.
“Min Yoongi I swear to god. Please.” You cry out as he finally dips his finger into your folds and collects your wetness bringing it up to your clit and making your head hit the pillow and your eyes roll back.
“Fuck baby your soaking my fingers. Needy little thing aren’t you? Did the other boys touch you or was it all just talk?” He hums as he rubs small slow circles on your clit causing you to arch your back.
“Needy? You were the one grinding your cock into me earlier.” You tease as he removes his fingers and gives you a hard stare.
“I can stop you know.” He teases back with a mischievous smile as you whine and push your hips up, desperate to get him back to where you need him most.
“That’s what I thought.” He muttered as he lay himself down on the bed and your eyes widened as he brought his face closer to your dipping center.
“Fuck Yoongi.” You moan as he flattens his tongue against your slit and licks it all up.
You cry out and fist the sheets desperate to hold onto something and to ground yourself as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your clit causing you to cry out.
Yoongi works you with your tongue until you are a screaming sobbing mess under him. You feel your orgasm fast approaching and he must feel it too as he shoves two fingers deep inside of you and begin to scissor them, stretching you out as he licks and sucks at your clit.
Right when he curls his fingers deep inside you your body lets go and you arch up from the bed, his name falling like a prayer from your lips as your pussy clamps around his digits and you cum all over them and all over him as his tongue is still buried between your legs and his hair is tickling your thighs.
You come down and slump on the bed breathing heavily as you desperately try to catch your breath. You watch as Yoongi gently closes your legs and crawls up the bed towards you, his eyes sparkling as he shoves his pants and boxers down to free his hard, leaking cock. He throws them somewhere in the room as you giggle.
“So much better holy shit almost came in my pants tasting you.” He admits as his hand circles his cock and he strokes it slowly, trying to ease some of the built-up tension as you watch.
Yoongi’s skilled hand strokes and tugs at his cock, he takes his time with it letting out soft whines and moans with every pass of his fingers against the aching shaft.
“Fuck Yoongi, so hot.” You whimper as you close your thighs tightly trying to ease some of the ache between them.
Yoongi’s eyes travel down your body as he smirks when he sees your thighs clenching.
“One orgasm isn’t enough?” He asks releasing his cock and letting it smack against his stomach.
He crawls on top of you and uses his hands to spread your legs.
Your breath hitches when he leans down to press a soft slow kiss to your mouth and you reach up to tangle your hands into his sweaty hair.
“Hold them open for me. Let me grab a condom.” He whispers as he shimmies down the bed to grab his pants and digs through the pile of clothes to find his discarded phone.
His mouth draws up into a smirk when he checks the screen.
“Five missed calls from Namjoon. World record I think.” He teases as he grabs a condom from his wallet and throws his phone back down on the pile.
He takes his time rolling the condom on his hard length and you roll over to flick on the bedroom lamp casting the room in a warm glow.
"Is everything okay with Namjoon?” You ask as Yoongi crawls on the bed and positions his cock at your entrance.
“Yeah, he’s just… You know he’s our leader and he is the responsible one out of us. He feels like what we are doing isn’t the most responsible thing and is just worried.” Yoongi admits as he pushes his hair back from his face and stares you down.
“Does he know I signed a NDA contract? I legally can’t say anything…at all… ever?” You ask as Yoongi slides his cock head against your entrance coating it in your juices.
“Yeah, Taehyung told us that part it’s just… Namjoon you know. He worries a lot.” Yoongi admits with a fond look on his face.
“Sounds like he’s stressed out.” You tease as Yoongi lets out a laugh and slowly pushes his cock head inside.
The stretch is delicious and you open your legs wider to welcome him. He takes his time inching inside of you until he is fully sheathed and he pushes his forehead against yours and you both breathe heavily.
“Jin and Taehyung joked about that this morning. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I’m here. And fuck was it a great decision. You’re so tight for me darling.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses against your temple.
“Did you get hard in the studio? Thinking about me? Thinking about this?” You purr as Yoongi closes his eyes and shifts his hips rocking into you gently.
“You have no idea. Was fine when I was working on the song, the second Namjoon left. Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Felt like I was in heat. Needed this soaked pussy so bad.” Yoongi growls as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan.
“Please tell me I can move. Please.” Yoongi begs and when you nod he grins wickedly down at you.
Yoongi pulls his cock most of the way out and grabs your legs. Before you can process it he has your legs thrown over his shoulder and starts to pound into you harshly.
You grip the blankets for support as Yoongi’s hard cock drags against your walls. He is fucking you with so much enthusiasm you feel like you might go right through the headboard.
Yoongi is moaning above you and is hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you crying out his name and gripping the sheets harder.
“Yoongi fuck, please. F-fuck feels so good.” You cry out as he reaches down to play with your clit, his skilled fingers rubbing it in a way that has your orgasm fast approaching.
“Baby girl you feel so good around me, pussy so good I want to scream.” He growls as he shifts his hips and slams into you harder causing your pussy to clench around him.
“Gonna cum princess, gonna cream my cock and make a mess for me,” Yoongi says as you nod frantically, your whole body tensing as you feel your high fast approaching.
“Yoongi right there fuck! Please!” You beg, not even sure what you are begging for.
Your orgasm rips through your body as you arch up from the bed and cry out his name. Your pussy clamps tightly against his cock as Yoongi bends forward to kiss you and you feel his cock twitch and empty into the condom, he can hardly thrust into you as you continue to ride out your high.
“so so good baby. You did so good.” he praises as his lips find yours and he gives you soft slow kisses, his hair falls over his face to tickle your cheeks and you grab at his shoulders desperate to feel more of him
Once you both come down Yoongi pulls out and throws the condom away. He positions himself down on the bed beside you. His hands come to scrape his hair away from his face as he stares at you with a dopey grin.
You lean in and press a small kiss to his cheek as you get up to get a towel and use the washroom.
Once you get yourself cleaned up you head back to the bedroom and let out a soft giggle. Yoongi is spread out on the bed and fast asleep. One hand is resting on his stomach and his hair is a mess and his lips are parted as he softly snores.
You inch over to the bed and use your warm washcloth to wipe around his soft cock, careful not to wake him.
Once finished you throw the covers over his body and grab a big tee shirt to sleep in as you curl up next to him.
His arms wrap around you and he buries his face in your hair. You hear a content sigh leave his lips.
Right as you are about to doze off you hear a phone vibrating again and you bite back a laugh as you snuggle into the covers and fall asleep.
TAGLIST
@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d
@m00njinnie
@minghaosimp
@madebyjungkookie
@iammeandmeisiam
@allie-is-a-panda
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7ndipity · 3 days
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Mornings/Evenings With Jimin
Jimin x Reader
Summary: just some headcanons and a lil blurb about morning/evening moments w Jimin
Warnings, lil suggestive, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to my lovely Star anon who requested this! It's a lil random, but I hope you'll still like it!
Masterlist
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Mornings with Jimin tend to actually start more in the afternoon, due to his slanted sleep schedule, but they’re still cozy nonetheless.
He’s very slow to wake, burying his face in your back or neck as he clings to sleep for just a little longer.
“Five more minutes.” “You said that fifteen minutes ago.” “I mean it this time.”
Once you get up, he usually follows suit, albeit reluctantly.
He’s basically your shadow for the first little bit, trailing after you to the kitchen to help make breakfast(though he mostly just clings to you and steals part of your coffee)
Most days, when things are more rushed and you’re both just trying to get out the door on time, he makes a point to stop for a few seconds, pulling you to follow suit if he has to, meeting your eyes for a moment before giving you a sweet kiss.
It’s a little thing, but sometimes those ten seconds are the only moments you get to have together during the day, and so he makes sure to never miss them.
Evenings are much slower and quieter, again partly due to how late his schedules tend to be.
A lot of nights, you’re already in bed by the time he gets home, and so he quietly runs through his evening routine before slipping under the covers with you.
On the nights when you’re both still awake and able to spend more time together make him so happy, even if it’s just getting ready for bed together. He loves those quiet little moments with you.
Sleepily brushing your teeth together, him leaning against you when he feels extra tired.
He’s said before that it takes him a while to fall asleep, so I see him really enjoying just laying in bed talking about the day's events with you. Words just flow a lot easier when he’s buried in the pillows with you.
Tbh, his bed is one of his favorite places. He loves any excuse for you to just lay together, talking about anything and everything, without having to worry about work or schedules, just you and him being your most true, relaxed selves.
At the end of the day, nothing else matters to him, so long as he gets to fall asleep next to you.
Jimin nuzzled in close to you as he climbed into bed as quietly as possible, his hands creeping along your curves.
It was well past midnight, the room dimly lit by the bedside lamp you’d left on before falling asleep.
“Y/n.” He whispered, his breath brushing over the exposed skin of your neck, raising goosebumps.
“Chim, quit it, ‘m tired.” You mumbled sleepily, trying feebly to shake his hands off.
“I’m not trying to start anything, Angel, ” He promised, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I just need my goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”
If your eyes had been open, you might have rolled them at him. You played along though, rolling over so he could reach your lips more easily, feeling his arms instantly wrap around you tightly.
He quickly connected his mouth to yours, swallowing your quiet squeak of surprise at his intensity, his lips moving slowly but firmly against yours.
You shivered as he slipped one hand beneath the fabric of your pajama top, the cool contrast of his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on your warm skin, the other coming to cradle the back of your head, drawing you closer.
All too soon, he pulled away, staring down at you with dark eyes.
“Better?” You asked, slightly breathless.
“Mmh, thank you.” He hummed, pecking your lips a few more times.
You were acutely aware of his hands still on you, his fingers digging into your side, causing you to squirm slightly beneath him, earning a questioning look from him.
“I thought you said you were tired?” He asked, giving you a knowing smirk.
“Things change.” You replied, pulling him back down to you.
He chuckled against your lips, kissing you for another long moment, before pulling back again.
“It’s late, you need sleep.” He said softly, shifting the two of you to rest more comfortably, pulling you to rest against his chest.
“Tease.” You grumbled, furthering his amusement.
“Love you too.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard
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glitterjay · 2 days
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⭒ sub!sunghoon, getting caught, humping, denial of orgasm(?, suggestive content under cut, mdni
⭒ c's note: this was requested by an anon in my ask! i hope it's good enough, yes yes. feedback is appreciated and needed as always. i also invite you to check this out if you do like this, hehe
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin
you had left for a business trip that would last about a week, maybe a few days less if everything went smoothly. this was actually hell for your boyfriend, sunghoon. it was established before you left that he was not allowed to touch himself until you were home.
he was a good boy. he set his mind to do what he was told so you could reward him once you were back home. boy, was it hard with all those texts telling him you were missing him and his body so much.
those calls where you were clearly touching yourself to his voice, yet sunghoon couldn't do anything about his own problem.
he'd usually take a cold shower to get rid of his hard on, but he lost his mind on this specific day, when you sent him a voice message praising him for waiting so long, and how you were already on your way home from the airport.
sunghoon ran the cold shower once again, his hands desperately fighting the urge to grab his cock and please himself. it hurt, it really did. the ice water didn't seem to work anymore. it was as if his body had grown inmune.
when he was out, his dick was still hard as rock. he put on a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants, his underwear getting stained with the precum that leaked from his tip when his mind thought of you.
the corner of the sink seemed very appealing to him, his mind already going insane. sunghoon had seen people humping tables and objects with corners in porn videos. it didn't hurt to try, right? the drive from the airport was far anyway.
-
he removed his sweatpants, leaving his boxers on, and carefully positioned himself so that his hard on rubbed perfectly on the surface of the sink. the corner o my added to his pleassure, hitting his balls from time to time as he grinded.
sunghoon didn't want to cum. he just wanted to satisfy the feeling of desperation growing within him, or so he thought. he was going painfully slow, eventually picking up his pace, too drunk in the pleasure to care about the set of rules he gave himself before starting.
hidden moans filled the room and the whole house. it was a surprise when you opened the door and heard the noises coming from upstairs. the traffic wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, so the drive home was cut short by around 5 minutes.
-
the view from your shared bathroom with your boyfriend would have given anyone a wave of pleasure. a handsome man, his hair falling over his eyes, shirtless, holding onto the sink for dear life as he humped the corner of it.
the veins in his arms bulged from how tightly he was gripping the furniture. his head hung low, and his entire body trembled. it seemed as though he might collapse at any moment.
you cleared your throat, crossing your arms as your boyfriend looked up at you with wide eyes. to make matters worse, his movements didn't stop at all.
"was being such a good mhm! boy, promise!" he said.
his eyes glistened due to the tears welling in them, threatening to fall at any second. "such a good boy, haven't cummed yet," he repeated.
"and you won't." you said firmly.
sunghoon sobbed when your hands touched his body. he was in such desperation to feel any part of you that a mere touch had him seeing stars. tou positioned yourself behind him, your hip making contact with his backside.
your arms wrapped around his torso as you started moving him again, rocking both of your bodies back and forth. your boyfriend was a whimpering and crying mess by this point, saliva dripping out of his mouth as he screamed and yelped.
"you won't cum until i say so, understood?"
© glitterjay | tumblr
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fairyysoup · 1 day
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it will come back
part one
a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)
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pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader
summary: You don’t go into the woods. You don’t talk to strangers. And you don’t, under any circumstances, approach a wolf. Unless one shows up bleeding at your door.
cw: dark themes, mature content, animal cruelty, animal death mention, gunshots, physical abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master, misogyny, suggestive themes, fairytale au, some kind of historical fantasy period, inspired by The Company of Wolves by Angela Carter, eventual smut (in later parts)
a/n: hiiiiiiii :) so remember when i said i'd stop posting fic on tumblr? well one mental breakdown later i decided that was literally making me miserable and ruining my hobby! so i'm back. it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me <3 this is a reupload
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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There are things they tell you about the woods from the time you are born, weaning you on them just the same as you are weaned on milk. Don’t go into the woods on a full moon. Don’t talk to strange men. Likewise, if you see a strange man alone in the pines on the full moon, run and don’t look back. And don’t, for any reason, approach a wolf at any time. They’ll kill you before you turn the other cheek.
In your twenty-some-odd years, you have never seen a wolf. You’ve heard them howling, distantly, so deep in the forest that you don’t even feel the need to be frightened by it. They exist in there, somewhere, going about their business as wolves do.
Sometimes you hear about the wolves wandering into town. Old Mr. Thatch, from just over the creek, said his pigs were slaughtered in the night. He’ll have to spend a fortune to get a few more. Torben Plack from the end of Warder’s Row saw one drinking from the horse trough outside the inn last month. 
There are whispers of wolves when a baby is missing from its crib. There are whispers of murder in the night. There are accusations that some of the townsfolk themselves are wolves in disguise.
Nonsense, the lot of it. Or, that’s what you believe. That’s what you choose to think about it– even though you’ve been told time and again that a pretty girl doesn’t think, a pretty girl believes and does what she’s told. She doesn’t go into the woods. She does her chores and she says her prayers and she marries a boy with a healthy income and lives quietly, rearing children until she can’t anymore.
(You don’t believe that, either.)
You don’t have the luxury of making any other choices, though. You are a servant, a milkmaid in the employ of a rather cold Master– you have no time for philosophy or discerning what you do and don’t believe about the local folklore.
You milk the cow. You chop the firewood. You feed the chickens. You harvest the cabbage and you don’t complain. You sleep on your bed in your shack– or, servant’s quarters– behind the grand house and you don’t, under any circumstances, question the Master or his wife. You wash the bedsheets after he sloppily takes his wife to bed, and you try to hide your disgust. 
You usually do what you’re told. Usually. 
On a night when the moon hangs round and full in the sky, lighting the stretch of land beyond your small shack in a milky blue haze, you’re building a small fire in the fireplace when you hear it. The howling. It’s so much closer than you’ve ever heard it, almost as though the wolves are just beyond the treeline that backs up to your master’s land.
You pay it no mind. Normally, the wolves are on the hunt for something– small animals that titter through the woods, unassuming until it’s too late. The howling will be distant soon, and you’ll be able to sleep soundly while the rest of the town frets about the dangers of the wolf-men, locking their windows and bolstering their doors. 
Just as you thought, the howls drift away slowly. You snuggle down into the covers of your bed, and you barely flinch when Mr. Thatch fires off a pistol over the creek, ringing through the dead night louder than hell. These things mean little to you. You’re more interested in what the land of dreams holds for you tonight– it’s one of the only reprieves you get from your long days of work.
It isn’t until ten minutes later, when you are mere inches from sleep, that you hear a soft whining outside your cabin door. At first, you think it’s the wind. Then, when it gets louder, you wonder if you’re imagining it.
And when it turns into a soft howling, well. That’s not your imagination.
You wrap a woven blanket around your shoulders and leave the door open when you step out into the chilly night. You don’t have a candle– you could always knick one from the Mistress, but that might risk getting caught, and you don’t love that idea. So, you contend with the little amount of light that spills out of the open door from your small fireplace, and you squint into the dark toward the source of the sound.
It takes shape in the form of a wolf. A big one, covered in black fur and curled up beneath the gabled roof, as though attempting to make itself smaller. It shivers and whimpers miserably, tucking its paws close to its body. 
You shrink back in the doorway, drawing your blanket closer around your shoulders. The hum of crickets in the bushes and in the grass across the pasture covers the shakiness of your rapid breathing. You don’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly be expected to bother the Master this late at night– even if it is a wolf, the barn is shut up and the animals are safe. You’d probably be expected to just stay put in your little cabin and wait for it to go away on its own. Maybe in the morning the Master will find it and skin it for the Mistress’s bedquilt. 
The image makes you shudder. This poor thing– even if it is nearly as big as you, even if it’s a nasty predator in the eyes of everyone else– is clearly looking for some sort of reprieve. Just the same as you do at the end of the day. You can’t let it be skinned alive just for searching for safety.
“Hey,” you whisper softly, and you know the creature hears you, because it flinches badly. Almost as though it may bolt away in a panic. “No, no… don’t be frightened.” 
You lower yourself down towards the ground, tentatively inching forward as the creature turns its head to blink up at you. Water brims its dark eyes, sparkling in the low light from your open door. Streaks of tears flatten the fur on its snout; the wretched thing lets out a noise like a sob, hanging its head like it doesn’t have the energy to stand you off.
“I’ve never seen a wolf cry before,” you tell it quietly. You’ve never seen a wolf, period, but you don’t need to tell it that. You’re not sure that it can understand you, anyways, but you keep talking like it can. “Are you hurt?”
The wolf snorts, sneezes loudly, and then trembles. There’s a high pitched whining, a heart-shattering noise that cuts deep into your chest as the beast cowers away from you. The whine turns into a low growl when you move a bit closer, but it doesn’t sound like it really means business. More like it doesn’t know what to do with your closeness. 
“Hey,” you say again, more insistently. You inch your way forward, crouched low to the ground, holding your blanket around you with one hand as you reach the other out toward it. You’ve never tried to approach a wolf. You don’t know if it’s similar to trying to gain a domesticated dog’s trust– hold out your hand, let it catch your scent. Show it that you mean no harm, allow it to come to you. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Let me help.”
The wolf growls for a moment longer before finally relenting, and reaching its head forward to sniff curiously at your hand. You don’t know what you expect– perhaps that it would drop its head again, or back away cautiously. Instead, the wolf surprises you by pushing its head into your outstretched palm like a sad puppy.
“Oh,” you coo, stroking the wolf’s soft head as it trembles. Its ears twitch against your fingers, and it snuffles a few times, its body shaking with each, like an all-too-human fit of sobbing. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you inside.” 
Again, it’s a shot in the dark. You back slowly away from the creature, whose watery eyes blink up at you, and then you stand, and open the cabin door wider. The wolf doesn’t move, still continuing to shake with its uneven breathing.
You take a step into the door, and watch as the wolf slowly struggles up out of its cowering position. On all four legs, it seems to be favoring its right front leg, lifting its left paw limply upward. When you take another step back into the cabin, and it follows, it shudders a breath and limps badly on its left leg. 
“Good job, honey,” you tell the wolf gently as it tentatively follows you into the cabin. 
You don’t know whether to leave the door open or to shut it; you’re not sure if there’s any wisdom in shutting yourself in close quarters with a wild animal, but you also don’t want the Master to find it come morning. You suck your teeth and swing the door shut, quietly latching it and hoping the damned thing doesn’t suddenly decide it’s too hungry. 
You turn, and take two steps before dropping to your knees in front of the fireplace, where the most light hits the ground. You drop your blanket to the floor, and pat your lap as you look at the creature shivering a few feet away. “C’mere. Lay down.”
As far as you know, wolves don’t normally lay down and play lapdog for strange humans, but this one does. You wonder at it, remarkable in its size and beauty, as it flops down tiredly onto your floor and rests its head in your lap. Through your cotton chemise, the wolf’s chin is warmer than the heat of the fire.
You pet the wolf’s head again gently as you examine its left leg. It doesn’t seem to have any major wounds except for a spot of wetness on the side of it. When you lift it, the wolf in your lap whines loudly.
“I know, baby,” you coo at it, trying to pet its head as soothingly as you can while you look over the mangled leg and paw. Through the fur and dirt, you see a patch of pink skin matted with bright red, and your own hand comes away smeared with blood. There is a bad gash, enough to still be bleeding. 
You don’t want to jostle the animal now that it’s relatively comfortable, so you bend backwards and sideways to reach the cup of water on the shelf at your bedside. It’s what you have on hand to clean the wound– you suppose you could sneak into the grand house to steal some soap, but just the same as the candle, you’d rather not risk it. You take your time in pouring cool, clean water on the wolf’s wound, rubbing dirt and blood away from the gash. In your lap, the beast huffs softly in response.
“I don’t know what you’re doing out of the woods,” you tell it as you tenderly clean its wound, expecting that you’re only speaking to settle your own nerves, “but you ought not to come around here too often. The men here are bloodthirsty. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.” 
The wolf heaves a sigh. For what it’s worth, you take that as some sort of acknowledgement. 
“I can’t do much else for you besides this,” you continue softly. The wound is clean now, the fur gone wet enough that you can pull it aside and peer at the gash itself. It’s quite deep, straight, and slices from the middle of its leg upward at a diagonal. It continues to ooze even as you examine it, painting your fingers red. You tip a little more water onto it. 
You grab one corner of the blanket you’d used to wrap yourself, and rip a strip off along the grain. The light pink fabric looks almost comical when you wrap it around the wolf’s leg, tying it and tucking the tails in gently so that it won’t fall off too easily. You figure, eventually, the damn thing will come off while the wolf goes off on its merry way. You don’t delude yourself into thinking you’ve got a pet, now.
“I wish I could give you more,” you tell the beast, petting your hand down its mane, feeling the silken fur slide through your fingers like the plushest finery that you’ll never be able to enjoy for yourself. “But, I suppose, you can rest here tonight. If you promise to stay polite.”
The wolf doesn’t fuss when you slide a stiff pillow under its chin, and slip back under the covers of your bed. You gaze at it, curled up in a big black mass on your floor in front of the hearth, and you wonder why on earth a wild animal would be so well behaved. 
You wonder how a wolf is capable of crying.
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You wake in the early morning light expecting to find a big black wolf sleeping in front of your hearth. Instead, when you rouse and rub the sleep from your eyes, you find that the wolf is gone.
In fact, there appears to have been no wolf at all. No blood on the floor, no black fur on the pillow that has inexplicably reappeared on the foot of your bed. Your water cup is full. And the door to your cabin is latched, just the same as it had been last night, after you let the wolf in.
By all appearances, nothing happened last night. There was no wolf. You half expect that you dreamed the entire thing. And you would continue to believe so– but, the end of your pink woven blanket is still torn, missing a strip from the end, frayed along the grain.
You slip from your bed and fling open the door to your shack, emerging into the cool morning air. You look down at the nook beside the door where the wolf had huddled in the dark, seeking shelter away from harm. There is nothing there to suggest that it had been there last night. 
But you know it to be true. You know it.
How could a wolf, a four legged creature with full use of only three of them, manage to unlatch your door, step out, and then relatch it from the other side? How could your water magically refill itself? It’s a mile to the well in the town square, and it’s not like the wolf could have done it. 
Broken from your thoughts, you hear a shriek of your name. You lift your head to see your Mistress, fully dressed, feeding the chickens. The daily chores have already begun.
“What are you doing outside in your underclothes?!” your Mistress yells, flinging grain down at the birds. “Go inside and dress yourself this instant, you wretch! And begin your morning duties!” 
You jump, darting back behind the door. You hadn’t thought anyone would be out yet. “Sorry, Mistress!” 
You rush to grab your stays from the end of your bed. You’ll pay for that one, you think. 
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There are a million reasons why you prefer doing your chores out of the house. 
One, the Mistress isn’t around to rag on you over every little thing. Two, you don’t have to be watching over your shoulder to make sure you aren’t in the Master’s way. And three, you can take all the time you want to do other things as well, as long as you get done before dinner has to be served. 
Your skirt is filthy, but it’s a beautiful day, and the creek that separates your Master’s land from Mr. Thatch’s land is babbling quite a bit, and it makes doing the washing up much easier than it otherwise would be. Which you’re happy about, since your arm is so badly welted you can barely curl your fingers. 
You sniffle and lift your apron to wipe your nose. Then you wring out the Mistress’s petticoat– of which there are far too many for one woman to reasonably have– you whine at the strain on your injured hand, and you move to the basket of other soiled clothes. You think about blowing your nose in the Master’s linen shirt, and you’re about two seconds from doing it, too, when you hear a splash nearby. 
“Shit,” says a man’s voice. There are a couple more splashes around the bend, and then yelps, and then there’s one enormous splash, and a laugh. 
“Hello?” you call, trying to peer around the bank of overgrowth beside you. Then, there’s a cacophonous amount of splashing, which makes you screw up your face, and a man emerges from around the bank of greenery.
You pause, holding your Master’s laundry in your hands over the water like you’re wondering whether to dip it in or not. Really, you’re just shocked to see a strange man on your Master’s property at all. He’s out of breath, rosy cheeked and soaking wet from the chest down.
“Um,” is all you can say.
“Hello there,” the man says with a rakish grin that flashes sharp teeth at you. You blink a few times, just to make sure he’s really there. And when you do satisfy yourself with the fact that, yes, he’s very real, you then have to acclimate yourself to the idea that he’s also absolutely beautiful.
His very pretty face is framed by long, dark hair, and his eyes are strikingly dark. There’s something on his skin peeking out of the open collar of his burgundy blouse, but to look at that from this distance means to look at the way his shirt clings to his body, and then his trousers, and if you weren’t already struck dumb, now you are.
“How– how are you– um.” You wave your hands around, gesturing to the general area around you. “Whatareyoudoinghere?” 
“I think I was going for a swim, of sorts,” the man laughs, holding one arm out a bit to indicate his damp appearance. 
“Who are you?”
“Now, there’s a question for the ages.” The man tromps forward through the water, splashing along gracelessly and with exaggerated steps, like he’s trying to make you laugh. “Generally speaking, no one really cares who I am, just what I want.” 
“Okay,” you snap, irritated by the man’s jovial attitude and his need to speak in riddles. “What do you want? Why are you on this land? What business do you have here, and with whom?” 
“Whoa, hey–” the man holds up his hands, and grimaces like it’s painful to do so. Then he recovers with a flashy smile. “I don’t mean you any harm, princess. I have no business anywhere, I was just following the creek and seeing where it leads. Guess the time got away from me.”
“I’m not a princess,” you grumble back at him.
He tilts his head, his smile lingering as he looks at you. “Just an expression, no need to be nasty.”
You scowl down at your master’s clothes, and then plunge them into the water like they personally offended you. “Following the creek from where?” He points his thumb over his shoulder, towards the trees. “You came from the woods?”
“Thereabouts.” 
You squint up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows dramatically and takes another step towards you. “And may I ask who you are? Or shall I just call you ‘My Lovely Lady of the Creek,’ for time immemorial?”
You tell him your name flatly, and turn your face away as he gets closer, suddenly very invested in getting sweat stains out of your Master’s linen blouse using a cake of lye soap. “You should know not to go into those woods alone. There’s wolves.” 
 “Oh, I think I can handle myself in the woods, sweetheart.” Eddie smirks down at you. “Anyways, who wants to be in the trees on a day like this?” 
You grunt. You don’t think the man will be going away anytime soon, which is bad news for you, because the closer he gets, the more inclined you are to look at him. Then, you’re more inclined to talk, and you’ve already been punished once today. You don’t think you could handle another.
The man, Eddie, sits himself down on a large rock jutting out of the water next to you. He watches you for a moment, scrubbing with one hand at the cloth on the board in the water, and then he points down at your arm. His billowing sleeve flashes red in your peripheral vision, along with the silver of the rings on his hand.
“What happened here?” he asks softly, his voice losing its humorous tone.
You look down at the welted skin. It stings, but the cold water numbs the pain just a bit. Now that he’s brought your attention back to it, your eyes prick with tears again, and you sniff. “My Mistress caught me outdoors in my chemise.”
“She should count herself lucky. It’s a sight to behold.” 
“What?” You blink up at him. From this angle, him looming over you on a boulder, the sun rings his head in gold like a halo. “How would you know?” 
“I’m… supposing.” Eddie bites his lip, staring off to the side for a moment, as if suddenly at a loss for the right words to say. “You’re a very… beautiful girl. I can only imagine.” 
“That’s forward of you.” 
“Besides, it doesn’t answer my question,” he rushes out. He scowls back down at your arm. “What did that to you?” 
You heave a sigh. “Well, the Mistress told my Master. And the Master is very heavy handed with a cane.” A small sob constricts your throat for a moment, tears pricking your eyes again so badly that you have to stop working and close them. Your sinuses burn from the effort of holding it in.
“You were beaten because you went outside without a petticoat?” Eddie remarks incredulously, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I… I was also late to start my chores,” you admit in a wobbly voice. “So I suppose I got off easier than most would…” 
“It’s cruel. I’d love to see how he would take it, if the tables were turned.” Eddie’s dark eyes flash dangerously when you look up at him; there’s something in the set of his jaw and the steely expression on his face that makes you think of the growling wolf last night. After a moment, he softens towards you again. “Why were you late to your chores?”
“I…” you trail off. You think about telling him about the wolf, but you wonder if he’s the kind of person who will go into town and yell about the wolves trying to steal women in the night, and you could do without the embarrassment. “I had a nightmare. Slept too late.”
Eddie clicks his tongue and rocks backward a bit. “A nightmare,” he repeats, considering the word like it’s a part of life’s philosophy. “What about?”
You don’t respond for a few moments. You’ve moved on to washing a pillowcase now, which is significantly less soiled than your Master’s blouse. “Why do you care?”
“I care because I hate to see My Lovely Lady of the Creek in distress. Even if she is completely vexed by the sight of me,” He says lightly, as you tilt your head down to hide the way your cheeks burn. He reaches up his right hand and produces a silver coin from behind your ear. You stare at it in puzzlement as he hands it to you. “What was your nightmare about?”
You hesitate just a moment before taking the silver coin. “Is this bribery?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie announces with a wry smile. “For your thoughts.”
You sigh. You could use the coin, you’ll admit. Maybe you could buy yourself a new robe, or a loaf of bread from the baker, or any other of the myriad things you’re in want of. 
You tuck the coin down the front of your bodice, where it slides down and gets stuck between your ribcage and your chemise. Eddie’s eyes follow the path that it takes between your breasts with a hungry glint in them. 
“There was a wolf,” you tell him quietly, going back to your work. “It came to my door bleeding. I brought it inside and nursed it. But when I woke, there wasn’t a wolf. It was just a nightmare.”
“Oh,” Eddie hums amusedly. “I wouldn’t call that a nightmare. I’d rather call it a dream.”
“A dream?” you echo with a scoff. 
“Yes. A lovely dream, with a heroine and a lonely beast in need of kindness.” He leans towards you, his hands on his knees. “But, you know what they say about wild things.”
You huff with indignance, but humor him, because you’re curious in spite of yourself. “I don’t know. What do they say?”
“You shouldn’t show them kindness,” he whispers, so close to your ear that you can feel his breath on your neck. “They’ll keep coming back for more.”
You startle, standing up with a noisy splash of water as you yank the last of the laundry from the creek. There’s a flush under your bodice that you don’t like, sticking to the coin that’s going hot against your skin as you think about it even being there. That it was produced by his hand. The more you think about it, the more you imagine it as an extension of his body, touching you just beneath your breast. 
Eddie snickers to himself as you hurriedly, shakily, smack the last piece of laundry into the basket with the rest, and pick up the washboard from the water. With a frustrated huff, you stand and rest the basket of laundry on your hip. You gaze out across the creek, and then away towards the trees, and finally, when you’re sure you can form words, you turn back to him. 
“Goodbye, Mr. Munson,” you say stiffly, so that you don’t trip over your own tongue. It comes out icily as a result, and you turn away to hide the way that you blush.
“Until we meet again.” Eddie presses his lips together, as though he’s stifling a laugh. Then he says, in a slightly bossy tone, “Take care of that arm for me, princess. Don’t want you getting any more beat up.”
You whirl around to ask him to repeat that– what the hell did you just say?– but when you do, the man is already gone. Along with any trace of his presence by the creekside. 
Except, the coin he bought your dream with still grows warm against the heat of your skin, under your bodice. 
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holylulusworld · 1 day
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Every breath you take (Prologue)
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Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time
A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.
A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
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James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 
He lost his family. 
He lost his life. 
He lost his arm.
He lost his freedom. 
He lost himself. 
He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.
He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.
Before Hydra everything was simple.
Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 
Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 
In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.
Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.
How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 
No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.
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“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.
The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.
“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.
“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 
“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 
He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 
The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.
“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.
He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.
At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…
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Right across the street. You live right across the street. 
Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 
He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.
It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.
“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”
And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...
Part 1
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Tags in reblog.
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fruity-fruition · 3 days
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I NEED more angry Saki content at this point. GENUINELY.
Guys, I love Tsukasa, Shiho, and Honami with all my heart but I desperately need Saki to finally let out all her anguish.
Shiho and Honami were middle schoolers, you can't blame them, but so was Saki. I love how bright she is, how bubbly, but for the love of god you just know she had some sense of betrayal when Ichika was the only one who appeared constantly.
I want Saki to stand before Honami and Shiho, trying her best to act as her usual self, but finally breaking down and telling them how hurt she was when they never replied to her text. When Ichika kept saying "they'll visit soon" because she knows they never will. How she felt so alone in that hospital room, missing two of her best friends and being so far away from home.
I don't want their friendship to wither, but I have her to be angry because she has every right to be. I want her to hold a grudge, and I want her to feel hurt because she cannot move forward without acknowledging how shitty the cards she was dealt were.
Again, I'm not saying it was Honami and Shiho's fault. They were middle schoolers, they were scared. they were children who didn't know how to cope with their friend being so far and so out of reach. But that didn't mean they weren't wrong. Saki has every right to feel abandoned, because in her eyes, she was.
And Tsukasa. This is a different betrayal, because he treats her like glass. Again, it's not his fault, because for a good while, she basically was. She couldn't go out, she couldn't move around, she couldn't do most things. And he saw her through all of it. Of course he'd be scared for her, of course he'd be wary about it.
But Saki's so tired of being treated like this. She wants to move on, to keep going, to feel normal but she can't do that when everywhere she goes, it's a constant reminder. I want her to lash out, not being she's in the right, but because she's a teen who's childhood was torn away from her.
I want to see Saki snap, I don't even want it to be for a right reason. She could be totally in the wrong, yelling at her brother for caring and trying to make sure she's okay, but she's tired of being reminded she isn't a normal teen. So she lashes out, because she's hurt.
Saki's feeling of betrayal towards Tsukasa reaches another part too, with Tsukasa refusing to trust her the way she trusts him. Tsukasa never opened up to her, being so determined to be the reliable older brother. She's not stupid. She sees what he's doing. She knows something is up, that something is wrong. He's hiding something from her, and it pisses her off that she most likely will never know what.
She feels like he doesn't trust her. She feels like her just being younger is burdening him. That he thinks she can't handle it because she'll always be the "younger fragile sister". She is wrong, and he's never seen her as such, but she feels. That's the whole thing here.
I just want my girl to be able to finally feel and not squash everything down. She'll have to accept the consequences of her actions, but she'll grow from it after, that's for certain. Because she's not going anywhere if she keeps ignoring it and just smiles through (Tenma Sibling trait apparently...)
GOD Saki Tenma I LOVE YOU.
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pb524830 · 22 hours
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right where you left me
part: 2 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.7k c/w: mention of blood, language a/n: hey guyssss here is part two enjoy it i love you ALL!! live reactions in my inbox => ALWAYS welcome!
I wait a beat, processing. “What… did you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Us?” I demand. “Who is us?”
Paige moves her hands between the two of us exasperatedly. “Bro. You and me. Us.”
“We haven’t been an us in three years, Bueckers.”
“I know that. I know that. I just-” She lets out a huge sigh. “I miss you, bro.”
I truly can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Not that I try. But still. 
“What is funny?” She demands.
I bend over, bracing my hands on my knees. And I cackle. 
“You miss me?!” I howl, clutching my sides. “Oh, that’s good. Now you miss me, okay.”
“Good to know you’re still a crazy bitch.”
“Good to know you’re still fucking stupid,” I shoot back, wiping at my eyes. Her eyes widen and I can feel a retort on the tip of her tongue, because despite everything - I know her. I cut her off before she can say a word. 
“What did you think was gonna happen, Paige? You were gonna come knock on my door in the middle of the night like a fucking Taylor Swift song, and tell me you miss me, and then what? Huh? I was gonna- what, kiss you under the stars? Tell you you’re the love of my life and of course I’ll take you back?” I sneer.
She clicks her tongue irritatedly, not unaccustomed to my rants. “It’s not even like that, dude.”
My eyebrows raise again. “Oh? What is it like, then, Paige? Do tell,” I snark, crossing my arms. 
“I just miss… I don’t know, being around you? Like, I hate how awkward things are between us now.”
“That’s your own damn fault.”
“Yes! Okay! It’s my fault, I get it, and I’m sorry-”
“Which part are you sorry for, Paige?” I demand. “The part where you convinced me to not only cheat on my girlfriend, but also break up with her to be with you? Or maybe it’s the part where you swore we’d be together and we’d make long distance work because, really, Michigan and Connecticut aren’t that far. No, maybe it was the part where you dumped me after I came out to my family for you because you wanted to fuck other people?” My voice is rising, and I’m stepping closer to her. We’re nearly chest to chest when I finish speaking
She searches my eyes. I don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on my lips, and suddenly there’s goosebumps all down my arms and I’m conscious of the tank top I’m wearing. “All of it. Everything. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to,” she says quietly.
I search her eyes back, my lip curling. “Cop out. Fucking cop out. You’re a coward. You were a coward then, and you’re a coward now. Go home, Paige.” I turn to walk away from her, but her hand lands in the crook of my elbow.
My knees nearly buckle. It had always been like this. Her touch had always had the power to make me crumble, and it shudders through me even now. 
“Maya-”  she starts.
I shake her off. “I said fuck off.”
***************
“It’s Juilliard.”
“Well, open it.”
“I can’t”
Paige sighs, coming to crouch down next to me at my desk, lacing her fingers with mine. “Mai. I’m right here. No matter what happens, it will be fine.” I scoff at her. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’ve been committed to your dream school for almost a year.” Her face softens, blue eyes trained on mine. “You’re fucking incredible, dude. Any school who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. No matter what happens when you open that letter, you’re still a badass. It’ll be okay.”
I squeeze her hand, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re right,” I say, mostly trying to convince myself. Paige places a kiss against our clasped hands and I ignore the shudder it sends through me. It’s too domestic, too intimate, and this is probably a moment I should be sharing with my actual girlfriend. “Come on. You can do it.”
I login to my admissions portal, click to view my decision and shut my eyes tight, waiting for it to load.
I hear Paige breathe next to sharply, and I open my eyes, blinking.
Dear Ms. Jacobs,
We regret to inform you…
I can’t read the rest of it. My eyes blur with tears, and sob claws its way up my throat. 
I wasn’t good enough. All that work, the sweat, the tears, the hours spent in the studio - fuck all of it, because I wasn’t good enough.
“Maya,” Paige whispers. My bottom lip quivers, and the tears slip down my face. They land on the back of Paige’s hand in my lap. “Maya, baby,” she tries again, and I shake my head. My breath shudders out, and the tears are falling faster and faster now. I shake my head more indignantly, slamming my laptop shut.
A sob forces itself out of my mouth, and I bring a shaking hand to my mouth. Then the tears are really falling, streaming down my face, my whole body shaking with sobs, and I’m collapsing out of my chair into Paige’s arms. I sink into her on the floor, letting her strength support me, because God knows I have none. Her arms are firm around me, and I cry and cry and cry into her shirt, the blue of it darkening with my tears.
She presses her lips to my hairline, whispering words of reassurance against my forehead.
And though my whole world is crashing down around me, Paige is there. My Paige.
So, really - how bad could it be?
**********
“Mom!”
“Yes, honey?”
“What the hell is Paige doing here again?”
“Oh, she said she’d take Matthew to the park to play some basketball. You know how much he used to love watching her play-”
“Oh, my God!” I exclaim, stomping out of the kitchen and throwing my arms up. When the hell did she even manage to do that?
I storm out of the house, to where Paige is waiting near her car. “You better not be using my little brother to get to me, you asshole,” I warn menacingly, poking a finger into her chest. She narrows her eyes at me, and it startles me a-fucking-gain just how blue they are. She’s in a white cropped tank and mid-length blue shorts that hang off of her hips. Slowly, she pulls my finger down, wrapping her hand around it.
“Chill, Jacobs. Not everything is about you,” she says. I glare at the snark in her tone. “Ew, Maya, go change if you’re gonna come with us,” I hear my brother Matthew’s voice from behind me, a pair of Kyries hanging from his hand. I turn around to gape at him, and Paige guffaws. “Excuse you? I will take those shoes right to the store and return them-”
“Yap, yap, yap,” my brother complains, and my mouth drops open further, Paige’s laughter increasing in volume behind me.
 I turn around and smack her on the stomach. “Shut up,” I hiss. 
“Get in the car, kid!” Paige calls. 
“Now, hang on. Where the fuck are you taking him?” I demand. 
Matthew grins, running up to us. “I’m telling Mom you cussed,” he says slyly.
I make a face at him. “You’re such a little shit.”
Paige’s eyes trace over my face. “You’re sister’s a little brat, huh?” She notes, and Matthew groans in agreement. My eyes shoot to hers in shock. Brat?
She smirks at me. “You all ready?” She asks Matthew, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “You’re not taking my brother anywhere without me,” I blurt out stubbornly. What the hell? I don’t care that much. “And you’re not coming anywhere with me looking like that. Maya, you look ugly,” my brother says bluntly. “Matthew,” I warn. His attitude has really gotten worse since I’d gone to school.
“Go change,” he whines, and I look down at my old pajama pants and sleep tank, then back up to Paige. Her eyes trail up my body the same way, jaw tensing, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Yeah,” she intones hoarsely. “Go change.”
I hold her gaze for a few more seconds, the heat of it addicting. When she jerks her chin back towards my house, I listen. I run inside, up to my room, changing my clothes quickly.
I run back out in an all blue workout set, a pair of leggings and tank top that are the same royal blue as Paige and my high school colors. I fling open the door to Paige’s car, hopping in. I gather my hair to clip it up into a bun but she doesn’t move. “Hello? Go?” I say sarcastically, looking at her curiously. Her eyes are trained on me already, and it makes my chest warm.
“You’re wearing that?” She asks quietly, her knuckles white as her fingers grip the steering wheel. I crinkle my nose at her. “Sorry, did you wanna pick out my outfit?”
“Do you actually just exist to make my life difficult?” She snaps.
“Just drive,” I say, rolling my eyes.
The car is quiet for the first five seconds of the drive.
Then Matthew pipes up. “You guys fight a lot.”
Paige laughs drily. “You have no idea.”
We reached the park Paige and I had stumbled into each other at last week. Paige opens her trunk, resting her hand against the trunk door up in the air as she surveys her trunk. “You should clean your car,” I say matter-of-factly. “And you should mind your own business,” she quips back, but there’s no malice to her tone. She picks a pair of shoes out of the pile building in her car, slipping out of her driving slides to lace them up. 
“Matt, you got the ball?!” She calls back to my brother. He yelps in response, already running to the court. 
That’s the other thing that really pissed me off about all of it. He used to worship her. It’s not like he had a dad to teach him all the things he was supposed to know. But ever since we were kids, Paige had been there.
When he was four, he scraped his knee, and she cleaned the blood up that trailed down his leg because she knew it made me squeamish. She’d cleaned it with alcohol, holding his hand through the sting, and kissed the bandage she’d placed on top of it. 
When he was six, he picked up a basketball for the first time. Paige was his hero. He wanted to be just like her, and she’d spent hours with him and Drew teaching them all the fundamentals. He dragged me to her high school games, starry-eyed at watching his idol run up and down the court.
When he was eight, my mom couldn’t make it to his 3rd grade talent show. She had an emergency shift at work, and I still only had my permit. Paige had sped through perhaps three different stop signs trying to get me there on time, and she’d taken us out for milkshakes afterwards.
My jaw clenches at the memories.
I watch them together, watch her let him blatantly foul her over and over again, purposefully missing layups while he laughs that she’s going easy on him. A tear tracks down my face, and I wipe at it stubbornly.
“Hey, you good?” Paige pants, running up to me, her brows furrowed. I hope she hasn’t seen me crying. “What? Yeah. So good.” Matthew is close behind her, his water bottle in hand. I blink. “Damn. Y’all already done?” 
Matthew frowns. “Are you dumb? It’s been an hour and a half.” I open my mouth to spit a retort back at him, when Paige interjects. “Hey, take it easy on your sister,” she chides, clapping him on the back. “Thank you,” I sniff. She grins at him slyly. “She’s already shit at basketball, no need to make her feel worse,” Paige smirks. I roll my eyes.
Matthew howls with laughter, high fiving her. She takes his head in the crook of her arm, ruffling his hair. “Ah, I missed you, kid,” she laughs. “Now, hang on,” I splutter. “I’m not that bad.” Paige quirks an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Play me then.” I scoff. “No!”
Paige backs up, dribbling the ball between her legs, and starts clucking like a chicken. 
“Oh, that’s really mature,” I say loudly, crossing my arms. She doesn’t stop, and my stupid little brother joins in. “Play me!” She calls over his noises. I roll my eyes again, and she laughs. “They gon’ get stuck up there!”
“Okay, check up,” I snap finally.
I’m not awful - I played as a kid and in high school before committing to dance full time - but I’m no Paige Bueckers. I meet her at the 3-point line, gesturing for the ball. She grins, her eyebrows raised. “You sure?” I flick my wrist, gesturing for the ball again. “Don’t get all pussy on me now, Bueckers,” I tease.
It’s natural. Too natural, too instinctual, to be going back and forth with her like this.
Paige tosses me the ball, and I toss it back to her, before it lands in my hands again. I back up, dribble it out, then make a quick drive to the basket. I lay it in easily, catching it under the net, and turning to frown at her. “You’re taking it easy on purpose,” I complain, thudding the ball into her chest. She grasps onto the ball, staring down at me, her eyes searching mine. “How do you know that?” She murmurs.
I shake my head, biting back a smile. I can’t tell if the rapid beating of my heart is from the drive or from the fact that she’s this close to me, smelling clean and fresh and so Paige. “Cut the shit. Play for real,” I tell her, dropping my hands from the ball. Neither of us move, the ball the only thing between us. Then she breaks the thread connecting us, dribbling back to the perimeter.
On her drive, I grasp at her shirt, and she yelps, completing the play anyway, the ball falling deftly through the net. “Foul!” She yells at me. “You have like seven inches on me, how the fuck else am I supposed to defend you?!” I demand. Paige stares at me. Then she cracks her neck, tongue in her cheek.
When she blocks my next shot viciously, I know she’s playing for real.
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredibly attractive when she’s so competitive. Possession after possession, she absolutely dominates the game. It doesn’t help that my idiot brother is cheering for her the whole time, spurring her confidence on. She knocks me to the ground on the last play, yelling triumphantly in my face as she stands over me, feet on either side of my body. Her body glistens with sweat, but her smile is fucking blinding. She leans down, her chain dangling in my face. “Still not shit, huh, Jacobs?” 
I grab her shirt, pulling her to the floor, and her knees land on the concrete on either side of my torso so that she’s almost straddling my body. She lurches forward with the momentum, her hands on either side of my head. Her ponytail falls down, brushing my nose. “Shut up, Bueckers,” I mumble, but I’m smiling, my eyes moving between her lips and her eyes, my hand still fisted in her shirt. 
“Are you guys gonna kiss?!” Matthew calls, breaking me out of my trance. I shove her off of me and she squawks, falling to the side. “Shut up, Matthew,” I grumble, stalking past my brother and smacking him on the back of the head. Paige is on her feet now, dusting off her hands. “So sensitive,” she says mockingly, eliciting a withering look from me. She sighs, turning to my brother and holding her hands out helplessly. “Can’t take a joke,” he says, shaking his head. Paige laughs loudly, looping an arm around his shoulder and walking with him to her car.
“How do milkshakes sound?” I hear her ask him.
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