Tysm For Tagging Me This Was So Fun To Do

i love your theme and your writing style omg i just found your account i WILL be looking into more

OMG OMG tysmmm i’m literally blushing rn you’re so kind mwah

𓇼 invisible string ; lo'ak.

synopsis. a simple conversation makes a full one-eighty as lo'ak airs out his true feelings towards hometree and the clan.

info. angst. lo'ak sully x gn!omaticayan reader. 1,822 words.

warnings. misunderstanding trope! crying, a barely there description of a panic attack, a common neytiri W, stupid lo'ak... like so so so dumb. barely proof read this bro... ignore all the errors :P

"if you could go to any place, where would you be?" you ask softly, the wind carry your voice into lo'ak's pinched back ears.

"easy. anywhere but here," he says with a sigh. and as he lies on his back, lo'ak's eyes close with a huff puffing past his lips. before you could even utter another question of 'why?', he cuts you off with his own train of thought. "dad's always on my ass about something. if i had the chance, i would hop on my ikran and fly as far away as i could."

your brows furrow confusedly, an uneasy smile forcing it's way to your lips as you glance over at his figure, almost ticked-off with how calm his demeanor is whilst laying on the soft grass.

you hum quietly, attempting to sound like you're agreeing but failing miserably. but it's not like lo'ak noticed, no, he was too busy wallowing in his own self pity to hear such a tiny lilt to your voice. too busy to feel the uncomfortable shift within the air that consumes you both.

"so... there's nothing convincing you to stay?" you inquire, busying yourself by looking plucking at random patches of grass. the slight scoff that flutters past his lips is almost gut-wrenching, and you can feel the cracks grow in size as your heart breaks into a billion pieces.

slowly sitting up, he aimlessly glances around the foliage surrounding you both. bringing his hand up, his palm towards the sky as he blocks the sunlight from his eyes. a disgruntled noise vibrates against his lips as he acknowledges your question.

the next sentence that leaves his lips could only be described in one word; heartbreaking.

"when it comes to the hometree... the clan, no. there's absolutely nothing worth staying stuck here for."

you feel the sharp tip of the metaphorical arrow pierce it's way into your heart, the poor thing far from bits and pieces as his harsh words struck deep within your bones. the way your heart rattles in your ribcage is overwhelming to say the least, the continuous thumping of the muscle growing slower and slower as silence blankets itself over two. the sentence leaving his lips so nonchalantly that it almost makes you dizzy, nauseous even. you watch him shrug as he drops his hand into his lap, allowing the sun's rays to illuminate every single one of his features that you've grown to love.

lo'ak misses the way your features fall into one of pure sorrow, frown deepening, and lips twitching uncontrollably as flits of silence yet again fill the tense air.

"sorry for mentioning it, lo'ak."

your voice is low, barely above a whisper as you swallow a thick lump stuck in your throat. the action does little to soothe the scorching hot pain that his words had burnt into your brain. the way his name rumbles in your chest has him confused and left in a daze, unsure of how to respond. you rarely call him by his full name, the fact that you even said it makes his brain short circuit.

"y/n..." he calls out your name, fidgeting slightly as he begins to notice how tense you are. the boy sighs deeply upon seeing your head hung low, bead-clad braids falling off your shoulders and curtaining your face away from his worry filled eyes.

"no, it is fine. i will see you later," you mutter with a shake of your head. standing up from your spot, you don't bother dusting the specks of dirt on your legs, opting to scurry towards the village in a hurry.

lo'ak watches you slip away, physically and metaphorically. the way you try to get away from him etches itself into the deepest parts of his brain, guilt consuming him whole as he is forced to replay the pained look written across your face as you got up to leave.

-

you avoided lo'ak like the plague.

it was like the wind had swept you away, never to be seen again, and it pained him to his very core. the hurt he felt was something he could not shake, heart feeling heavy as days, weeks passed by without a single word from you.

he attempts to remind himself that he has other things to worry about, which means your lack of presence is nowhere near the top of his priority list. but that last glimpse of you before running off, your face twisted in pure misery... well it does nothing but fan the growing flames of desire to make things right.

the desire to hold you, to take back the stupidest thing he's ever said begins to outweigh his duties. and at one point, it fully does. but by the time he musters up the courage to talk to you, it had already been a month since you last spoke.

he tried his best to find you, whether at your hut, the place you hug out in, he even checks all your favorite spots, but you're nowhere to be seen. you are just — gone.

you were like that of a ghost, he even questioned if you were ever real, just a figment of his imagination. but alas, his anxieties are temporarily relieved as his parents and siblings begin questioning him of your sudden disappearance.

lo'ak can never give them a straight answer, tongue laying uncomfortably in his mouth as he swallows the truth of what he has done, how he ruined your friendship.

how he messed up the one good thing in his life.

his thoughts overwhelm quickly, suffocating him. visions of you crying, the angsty look gracing your beautiful features, it's all too much. his heart cannot take seeing you in pain and as he closes his eyes, he attempts to calm his fluttering heartbeat. focusing on breathing in and out, he almost misses the soft calling of his name.

"lo'ak, are you okay?" he hears his mother's voice call out, tone soft as silk as she saunters over to the boy. she sits upon the grassy floor, nimble fingers grazing his shoulders as a silent way to remind him that she is here for him.

"i messed up, ma. i really messed up," he chokes out, voice getting caught in his throat as he hangs his head low. neytiri's eyes widen at her son, she's never seeing him so vulnerable, but nonetheless scoots closer to him. she wraps her slim arms around his shoulders, wanting to protect her little boy from the harshness of the world as he falls apart in her arms.

she pursues her lips, trying to figure out what to say, but as his sobs grow in volume, she pushes away the fact that he does not need advice right now.

no, he just needs his mom.

so, she remains silent, arms engulfing him as he rests his head in the crook of her neck. he latches on tight as if he she would run away, his fingers leaving indents on her biceps as he wails. she shushes him, rubbing circles on his back soothingly as he lets all his bottled up emotions free and into the air that surrounds them both.

-

the sun is barely setting once neytiri gets lo'ak to calm down. her back pressed against a tree as he lays his head in her lap like he used to do when he was little. she hums his favorite lullaby, the same tune on his songchord to be exact. they both remain quiet as she redoes a couple of braids in her son's hair, fixing his flyaways as he eases into her gentle touch.

she doesn't want to force him to speak about the things that plague his mind, wanting for him to come to her when he's ready. so, they both focus on the soft gusts of wind that ripple through the tree leaves, the sweet whooshing sound like music to their ears.

"i think i'm ready," he states, not moving from his mother's lap. neytiri simply hums. "they had asked me if there was any place i wanted to go to, y'know if i had the chance," he begins.

"i-i basically told them that i would rather be anywhere but here, even if that meant being away from them..." he mutters, ashamed. neytiri's eyes soften upon seeing her son shrink into himself, but with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, she reminds him that there is no reason to hide how he truly feels, no need to mask his emotions when he's in her presence.

"i'm so stupid!" he cuts himself off, anger present within his voice as he gets up from his comfy position. he turns around to look at his mother, a sort of understanding gracing her features as she urges him to calm down.

she motions her hands downwards, a sort of up and down movement to emphasize her words, "mawey (calm), my son."

lo'ak nods, inhaling before asking, "what do i do, ma?" his eyes are puffy from crying, streaks of dry tears remaining on his cheeks as he fully sits in front of her. the older woman hums, lips formed into a straight line as she places her hands into his.

"ever since you two were little, y/n was the only child that was allowed to play with your toys." his brows furrow in confusion, head tilting sideways as he opens his mouth to question her words, but she wags her finger 'no' to stop him from doing so.

neytiri tries her best to point out the obvious, but knowing her son, she became all too familiar with having to take it step-by-step for him to understand the depth of an important situation, such as the one he is in now. it was like teaching a baby how to walk, she smirks at the thought as it reminds her of jake. the two were more alike than they let on.

"you care for them, deeply, that much is true. but are you willing to deny that there is not something more between you and them?" she asks, tone calm as to not scare him. lo'ak is taken aback, brows knitting in confusion as he trips over his words.

"mom, there's no way."

him... liking you? no, you're only his friend, nothing less, nothing more. he swallows the lump forming in his throat as he shies away from his her heavy gaze.

"let me put it this way, 'itan (son), they have always been there. you have grown up with them, you both know each other like the back of your hand. no matter how much time puts a wedge between your relationship, you cannot help but be reeled back into them." he squints his eyes, orbs swirling with realization as he begins to slot the pieces together. he urges her to finish, already knowing what she's going to say.

"lo'ak... you are in love with them."

⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧ reblogs / feedback are highly appreciated. thank you so much for reading. we hope you enjoy your stay at diwatopia !

★ diwata's thoughts . . . this,,,, kinda sucks,,, saurry idk if i'll make a pt 2, there probs will be one if this does well so manifesting that it does bc i'll make lo'ak pay lol 😜 n sorry the beginning does lowkey suck... like js talk it out?? bc ig that's the literal fucking meaning of misunderstanding 😐

© ilupearls 2023.

hi ursula! would you be up to writing jack x reader where she wears his shirt for the first time ever and he’s just mesmerised by her, and kisses her face all over? i think that’d be cute!

sweet nothing — jack champion

word count: 661

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: jack goes home to his girlfriend and her sweet nothings.

JACK LEFT THE SET WITH THE FEELING OF EXCITEMENT INVADING HIS CHEST. It was an unusual thing to feel after long hours of shooting, but that day was different because Y/N was waiting for him at his house. They were both free the following day so Jack told her to sleep over and spend the next day together.

As he drove towards his home, he could picture her perfectly in his head. She was probably making his favourite food—because she loved to spoil him after tiring days of work—while humming some Taylor Swift song and dancing around the kitchen like a little kid.

And once he parked in the driveway, he sprinted towards the entrance door with a big smile, eager to see his girl. He was instantly hit with the smell of pizza and the sound of her sweet voice. When he reached the kitchen he leaned against the doorframe, and took his time to admire the sight in front of him.

Y/N was standing behind the counter, eyes furrowed in concentration as she carefully put cheese on the pizza—her perfectionist ass wanted the squares of cheese to be even and perfectly cut even though they were going to melt—, her hair was in a messy ponytail and strands fell in front of her eyes which made her sigh in frustration—something that made Jack smiled like a love-sick fool because he couldn’t believe the adorable girl standing in his kitchen was his.

And finally, the last thing that capture his attention was what she was wearing. The short sleeves of the plaid green shirt reached her elbows, and when he got to see her full body he noticed it ended by her upper thighs. She had never looked more beautiful.

Jack wanted this to be his everyday sight. He wanted to found himself running home to her warm smile, to her little rumblings about her day at uni, to her easing laugh and creases in her eyes, to her cozy arms and awful singing voice: to her sweet nothings.

“Hey” she spoke once she noticed his tall frame leaning on the door. His eyes were on her, but he appeared to be in another planet. “Babe?”

Jack blinked as he got out of his trance. “What?”

“Nothing, I just said hey” she laughed. “What happened?”

“You. In my shirt” he answered, eyes filled with adoration.

“Yeah, sorry. I spilled tomatoe soup on mine so I stole this one”

He took a step closer and cupped her jaw “It looks so much better in you. Hell, you know what? All my clothes are yours now, you should wear mine everyday from now on”

“But I like my clothes” Y/N laughed.

“I’ll burn them so you’ll have no choice” he joked. “For real, you look so beautiful. I never want to take my eyes off you” he started kissing every inch of the skin on her face, making her giggle.

“I missed you a lot” she said wrapping her arms around his neck as their foreheads touched. “How was work?”

Jack pressed a kiss on her nose “It was okay. Been looking forward to this all day, though. It was hard to concentrate” he admitted, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of their hug. “Missed you too. It was excruciating.”

“I made pizza, is that okay?” she asked. Jack looked down and smiled when he saw the pizza had the shape of a heart. “Saw it on Pinterest, and I just had to do it”

“You’re so cute. I love you.” he pressed his nose against hers, his heart pumping in his chest. He never thought how good being in love with someone felt like.

“I love you too, J.” she smiled lovingly.

And to have that someone love you back? It was priceless. He would take every exhausting day at work, every industry disruptor that made a bad review on his performance or movies, every soul deconstructor that threw hate comments at him, as long as at the end of the day he would have Y/N’s love and support.

won't ask you to wait | trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

summary: one winter weekend in your hometown brings a friendly face back in your life... but for how long? genre: fluff w/ angst ending; themes of longing, friends that were never more wc: roughly 1k

a/n: i’m such a fraud i should have finished this A LONG TIME AGO cause winter is ‘tis the damn season's season and now it’s spring but i procrastinated this ahhhh enjoy anyway also not proof-read

"We could call it even, even though I'm leaving, and I'll be yours for the weekend." — tis the damn season, taylor swift

Time really is a funny thing. No matter how much of it passes, your hometown still feels the same as the day you left. The same beauty magazine subscription your mother has had since you were born arrives every Tuesday, the same sound of laughter reverberates from the park playground, and the same cashier greets you at the corner store, this time with a waddling toddler mimicking his every move.

Other things feel completely different. The steps to your childhood bedroom seem to creak a touch louder despite your absence, there are a few more streetlights on the route to the local high school, and the parking lots you spent hours idling in gossiping with your friends have been repaved.

You didn't expect that Trent would be the same, too. Well, maybe not exactly the same. You knew with certainty that he could never be yours, and that was an obvious change.

You first saw him on a Friday afternoon, ticking things off the list of errands your mother gave you.

The bouquet decorating the dining room table was wilting, so you find yourself in line at the flower shop to bring home a fresh batch to the house. Trent stands ahead of you in line and you peer forward at the bouquet in his hands. "When did you become a tulip kind of person?" There is a glint of humour in your question that you hope he can recognize.

Trent turns his head towards your voice with such force you feared it might detach from his shoulders. He whispers your name with a shocked expression on his face. "I can't believe you're back in town," he comments, shifting his weight on his feet in anticipation. "Were you missing it or somethin'?" The anxious movement makes your heart soften.

"Something like that," you smile. The holiday season always made you miss home, if you could still call it that. Home. A place you haven't been in years despite the way you searched for its comfort in every new city you lived in, the latest being Los Angeles.

“Thought I’d try something new,” he explains, holding up the tulips in your line of sight. You take note of the dusty rose shade, the same shade you were always drawn to.

You mimic his movement and display the festive bouquet in hand. "The house needed some beauty," you comment.

Trent smiles, "Something to rival yours?" You relish in his flirtatious banter and return the smile.

By Saturday evening, you had caught him up on everything he missed.

"I wish you would have told me sooner, I was out there this summer!" Trent exclaims, pulling out his phone to share photos. Photos you had already seen from the peeks you take of his Instagram feed every now and then. The sheer joy on his face while he explored the city you knew like the back of your hand. A relaxed expression as he spent time with his brothers. It was your favourite version of Trent.

“There’s always next time,” you muse. It’s a half-honest promise. A promise you make knowing that if both of you were in LA together, you wouldn’t be able to bear his inevitable departure. But the thought that he would want to see you in the very place that stole you from him was comforting.

You look out the window at the snow beginning to fall, paying it no mind. But it seems the longer you and Trent spoke, the heavier it fell and the poor visibility of the roads was concerning. You brush it off and attempt to walk to the door. His pull is gentle on your wrist. “You can’t go with the roads looking like that,” he warns.

You shrug at him, “There’s not really another option, no?” A smart option, you want to add but bite your tongue. One that won’t make this feel wrong. "I could try my luck out there."

Your friendship with Trent teetered along the lines of more than friends countless times. But when you "ran away" (at least that's the way your mother described it), things were cemented; you and Trent would never be more. The semblance of belonging to each other remained, which landed you in this position.

A gust of wind echoes inside his home like a warning sign. “I’m not asking you to stay for long,” Trent says in a pleading tone. “Just the night. Please.” How could you say no with how he looked into your eyes?

On a gloomy Sunday morning, his arms were encircling your waist in the bed you have shared countless times.

Although the mattress is firmer than you remember, the pillows are a little softer, and have those curtains always been so beige? You let your eyes wander around the room in the morning light. Picture frames on the TV console that you didn't notice last night. A half-empty candle on the nightstand in a scent you wouldn't have expected Trent to enjoy. All signs that confirmed your beliefs about time.

The feeling of his chest pressed against your back was one of comfort and familiarity. His breath fanned against your neck and a slight snore could be heard from his lips. You fidgeted in his grasp to face him. Slowly, you brought your hands to his chest. You studied the way he exhaled. You commit it to memory as if this was the last time you would be in this position.

A soft sigh leaves your lips. I’m leaving again. You want to give him a warning this time. But saying goodbye is always. harder than leaving. You slowly peel the sheets from your body, ridding yourself of the t-shirt Trent let you borrow and you know his scent lingers on your skin. The floor beneath you doesn’t let out a single creak as if it is in on your escape.

By the time Trent wakes, the side you once occupied is neatly made. He feels your absence like the closing credits to a movie. Painfully obvious but something he was expecting. He reaches for the crumpled receipt lying on your empty pillow, not even the indentation of your head remains. A receipt for his bouquet of flowers with only a sentence scribbled down:

Thank you for letting me be yours again, even just for the weekend.

•••

a/n pt 2 cause i can’t shut up: in conclusion i’m a cornball but hey!!! i finish this finally

so pretty

we need more niko x reader. in general beta squad x reader !! im craving it

hey! was just wondering (if your requests are open) if you could write something about chad meeks (from scream) and reader?? anything you want but maybe some fluff or like mutual pinning? Thanks anyway🫶🏼

nana's cookies and shared secrets

chad meeks x reader

words: 3.1k

notes: ahhh i loved writing this so much, i hope you like it :). not proofread!

living next to your best friend had many advantages. at least for chad, who would knock on your door every day at lunch and dinner time, a grin plastered on his face while he begged for you to cook him something. you were sure that he had never used his kitchen in the three months he'd been living in his apartment.

an advantage for you, though, was chad's dvd collection of your favorites movies. the ones you'd bought him for his fifteen birthday and that he still kept next to his tv, just in case a movie night was due for. his dvd collection was like a treasure trove of nostalgia, containing all the films that had shaped your friendship over the years. some were gifts from you, carefully chosen to match his taste, while others were movies he had discovered and introduced to you. each movie holding a special memory or inside joke between the two of you.

you cherished those dvd's, not only because of the moments with chad, but also because it was the only time where you would allow yourself to be so close to him. chad was a cuddler, if he wasn't holding onto a pillow, he would hold your hand, your thigh, anything. and you'd have to hide your face so he wouldn't see just how much you enjoyed being so close to him.

sometimes, while engrossed in one of the movies, chad's hand would find its way to yours. his touch always ignited a spark within you, an electric connection that you couldn't ignore. you would steal glances at him, trying to gauge if he felt the same way. but as quickly as the touch came, it would retreat, leaving you longing for more.

it was bittersweet, these stolen moments of intimacy. you cherished them, treasured them, but at the same time, you feared what might happen if you let your true feelings show. the risk of losing chad's friendship seemed too big, and so you buried your emotions deep within, hiding them behind laughter and playful teasing. as time went on, you wondered if there would ever come a day when you could gather the courage to reveal your true feelings to chad.

when you were ten, chad gifted you a journal for your birthday so you could write down your own recipes, knowing just how much you loved baking with your grandmother. and the year later, he bought a signed cd of your favorite singer, which you were sure was now scratched and worn out from how many times you'd played it.

as you grew older, your feelings for chad evolved beyond friendship. you began to see him in a different light, noticing the small details that made him himself and realizing the depth of your affection for him. however, the fear of ruining what you had held you back from expressing those feelings. what if he didn't feel the same way? what if it changed everything between you?

so, you continued to live in the shadow of the friend zone, relishing the stolen moments of closeness during movie nights while suppressing the longing in your heart. each time chad's hand brushed against yours, you wondered if it was a sign, a subtle indication that he might share your hidden desires. but doubt and uncertainty clouded your thoughts, and you convinced yourself it was merely wishful thinking on your part.

-

chad's job took time away from your usual meals together, his shifts were long and tiring, so when he got back to his home he went straight to bed, leaving you to cook alone. the absence of chad's cheerful presence during mealtimes made you realize just how much you relied on those shared moments. cooking for one felt empty, and you found yourself longing for the sound of his laughter and the taste of his genuine appreciation for your company.

as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't help but miss the movie nights as well. the dvds sat untouched, collecting dust on his shelf, and you yearned for the familiar comfort of sitting side by side with chad, engrossed in a captivating story while stealing glances at each other in the dimly lit room. the movies had always been an excuse to be close, and now that excuse was absent.

you couldn't deny that something had shifted within you. the longing in your heart grew stronger, and you missed him terribly. but still, the fear of rejection held you back, and you couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing the bond you shared.

one evening, unable to distract yourself, you found yourself flipping through the pages of the journal chad had given you all those years ago. memories flooded back as you read the entries about your baking recipes and the messy handwriting of your younger self, and a surge of nostalgia washed over you. you stood, not bothering to change out of your pajamas as you rushed to your front door, ready to go visit him and swinging it open.

outside stood chad, his hand up as if he was about to knock, and a grin on his face, one you had missed more than anything. "i know it's late, but... dinner?" you couldn't help but smile, feeling a wave of relief rush though you. "i've missed your cooking too much," he admitted sheepishly, stepping inside your apartment. "i've been eating takeout for weeks, and it's just not the same."

you chuckled and closed the door behind him. "someone's hungry." chad's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "always hungry when it comes to your cooking. i know it's late, do you have any leftovers for me?" he mimicked the puppy eyes that used to work so well on his own mother when he was a kid.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "you never change, do you? always trying to get a free meal out of me." he shrugged, still wearing that mischievous grin. "it's not my fault you're an amazing cook. i can't resist your food." his arms circled your waist while you looked inside the fridge, your cheeks heating up like they usually did around chad.

you pretended to be unfazed by his proximity, even though his touch sent shivers down your spine. "well, lucky for you, i made a double portion of my famous lasagna yesterday. i knew you'd show up eventually," you teased, trying to mask the butterflies in your stomach.

chad leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear. "you always know how to take care of me," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. the closeness between you felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking, a delicate balance that you had become accustomed to over the years. he blinked, smirking. "you're letting the cold out of the fridge, y/n"

you snapped back to reality, realizing you were still standing with the fridge door open. blushing, you quickly grabbed the container of lasagna and closed the fridge. "right, sorry about that," you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

chad chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "no worries, i'm used to you getting lost in your own world. now, let's dig into that lasagna before it gets cold!"

as you served the steaming slices onto plates, chad couldn't contain his anticipation. "mmm, it smells amazing," he praised, eagerly taking his seat.

you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as you watched him, his enthusiasm bringing warmth to your heart. with each bite, he savored the flavors and occasionally let out sounds of delight. it was a familiar sight, one that brought back memories of countless meals you had shared together.

between mouthfuls, chad paused and looked up at you. "you know, i've really missed this. eating together, talking, just being here with you." before you could answer, he spoke again. "you know what i miss?"

"what?" you smiled, and he reached for another fork-full of his dish, "your nana's cookies." he closed his eyes, humming as he pretended to imagine having one of his childhood snacks. you laughed softly at his comment, "ah, those cookies were legendary, weren't they? i still remember the first time you tried them. you practically begged my nana to share the recipe with you."

chad grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "can you blame me? they were like bites of heaven! remember when i tried to replicate them? i'm not allowed near an oven back at home anymore."

you laughed, remembering the disastrous baking attempts chad had made in the past. "oh, god. i remember that. you made mindy try the burnt cookies." chad shook his head, feigning disappointment.

"i had such high hopes, you know. but i guess baking just isn't my forte. that's why i rely on your amazing cooking skills." you raised an eyebrow playfully, before he shushed you and stood to clean off both of your plates. "you know," you started, "i'm pretty sure she gave me the recipe, it must be on the journal you got me."

chad's eyes widened with excitement. "really? you have your nana's cookie recipe in there?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

you nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "yeah, i'm pretty sure it's in here somewhere." you motioned for chad to join you at the kitchen counter, where the journal sat and you flicked through the pages before setting it open to a page filled with your grandmother's neat handwriting.

chad leaned in, his eyes scanning the page. "oh, look at this! 'nana's secret chocolate chip cookies,'" he read aloud, his voice filled with delight. "this is the one!"

you both huddled closer, shoulder to shoulder, as you read through the cherished recipe together. chad's excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "well? let's bake them." he offered, taking the book from your hands and listing the ingredients, once he was done, he looked up, waiting. "hurry!"

you grinned, captivated by chad's eagerness. "alright, let's do it. but i have one condition," you teased, raising an eyebrow. chad tilted his head, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "oh, really? what's the condition?"

you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "you have to promise not to burn down the kitchen this time." he reached for your hand, mimicking a handshake, "i do the mixing and you do the baking?"

"deal. just make sure to follow the recipe carefully this time, mr. kitchen disaster." chad feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "hey now, i've improved! i'll have you know that my cooking skills have gone up a whole half-notch since the last time."

you rolled your eyes playfully. "half a notch, huh? well, i'll be sure to keep the fire extinguisher nearby, just in case."

as you gathered the ingredients and started preheating the oven, chad stood by your side, eagerly watching your every move. it felt natural to be in the kitchen together, sharing this moment, and you couldn't help but savor it. and every time you moved around the kitchen to grab the ingredients that chad had listed before, you could feel him near, his chest against your shoulder, or simply his presence was driving you insane.

"so, what's the first step, chef?" chad asked, a spark of mischief in his eyes. you handed him a mixing bowl and a whisk. "first, we'll need to cream together the butter and sugars. and by 'we,' i mean you. i'll supervise to make sure you don't cause any culinary disasters."

chad grinned, accepting the challenge. "alright, chef supervisor, prepare to be amazed by my whisking skills!" he started vigorously whisking the butter and sugars together, his enthusiasm infectious.

you watched him with a mixture of amusement and fondness. "steady there, whisking champion. remember, we want a creamy consistency, not an arm workout."

chad chuckled, his focus shifting to maintaining a steady pace. "got it. creamy consistency." as he continued whisking, you took a moment to appreciate the scene unfolding before you. the familiar rhythm of your friendship mixed with the anticipation of what could be.

after the butter and sugars were perfectly combined, you handed chad the next set of ingredients. "now, add the eggs and vanilla. slow and steady wins the race."

chad nodded, cracking the eggs carefully and adding them to the mixture. he poured in the vanilla extract you'd handed to him and whisked again, his determination evident. "slow and steady." you thought it was cute, the way he kept repeating your instructions and how he bit his bottom lips as he focused on the task at hand.

the thought crossed your mind once again, what if this was the perfect moment to reveal your true feelings?

you pushed the thought aside, reminding yourself of the risks involved. you didn't want to lose the friendship you cherished so much. but as the minutes ticked by, and chad's whisking turned into a rhythm, you found it harder to resist the pull of your emotions.

"alright, chad, you're doing great," you encouraged, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "now, let's add the dry ingredients gradually and mix."

chad followed your instructions, adding the flour mixture little by little while you gently folded it into the batter. the kitchen was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your hands working together. once you informed him the mix was done, he went to dip a finger in it, just for a taste but you smacked his hand away.

he watched you intently as you poured a few chocolate chips into the mix, but they didn't seem to be enough for chad. "some more? pleaseee" when you looked back at him with a mocking look, he took the matter into his own hands and titled your hands towards the bowl, dipping the whole handful of chips into the bowl. he grinned at his own actions. "don't look at me like that, you know chocolate makes everything better."

chad followed you to the heated oven, opening it for you so you could slide the tray inside easily. as you waited, chad leaned against the counter and you sat next to him, your thighs and his hips almost touching. a hush fell over the kitchen, the only sound being the gentle hum of the oven.

chad's gaze held yours, and you could see a whirlwind of emotions playing out on his face. silence stretched between you, and doubt began to creep in, threatening to shatter the fragile moment.

but then, with a mix of determination and tenderness, chad leaned in, closing the distance between you. his lips brushed against yours, not fully sealing in a kiss. his breath ghosted over your lips, the smell of chocolate evident due to the few chips he'd secretly sneaked into his mouth while you finished off with the mixture.

"chad" you whispered, not really sure of what you were going to say. just testing to see if you were still able to speak because of the proximity. his eyes didn't move away from yours as he moved his hand from the countertop to your waist, then your neck. your heart raced, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

"chad…" you repeated and your voice wavered, overwhelmed by a wave of emotions that threatened to consume you.

you tilted your head slightly, inviting him in, and he obliged, closing the distance between your lips. the first touch was electric, a soft brush that left you craving more. his lips were warm and velvety, molding against yours with a gentle urgency, as if he had dreamed of this as much as you had.

chad's hands traveled down your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. lost in the moment, you could feel his breath against your skin, mingling with your own. soft breaths escaped both of you, blending with the sounds of your lips exploring each other. the taste of him, sweet, filled your senses, intoxicating you further.

with each kiss, the intensity grew, and you craved more. his tongue sought entrance, a silent plea for deeper connection, and you willingly granted it.

your bodies pressed against the counter, the heat between you intensified. you could feel the tension building, the desire burning within you both. the intimate dialogue that ensued was whispered, breathless, and filled with a shared longing.

his hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, igniting every nerve. the kisses became deeper, more urgent. time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the passion that consumed you, the world beyond the kitchen counter fading away. you felt like if chad moved away from you, you'd melt away. urging for the smallest touches, like you'd always done.

the beeping of the oven made you pull back slightly, only for chad to dive back in for another kiss, his hands cradling your face as he slowed his forceful kiss into small pecks. not pulling away, you slid down the counter, your hips meeting his as he kept his hands on your waist, holding you close to him.

"they're gonna get burnt." you mumbled, your voice almost being stolen away by his mouth. he hummed, finally pulling away to let you turn off the oven and take out the tray, carefully placing it on the stovetop.

you turned to face chad, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "they turned out perfect," you said, your voice laced with satisfaction.

chad grinned, "well, you're the master-chef here. i'm just the lucky taste tester," he replied, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

you laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within. "oh, so now you're admitting that you sneak cookies before they're fully baked?"

chad shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "what can i say? it's my job to ensure the quality control, you know."

rolling your eyes, you reached for a freshly baked cookie from the tray, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite. chad's grin widened, and he reached for a cookie himself. taking a bite, he closed his eyes, relishing the taste. when he opened them again, his gaze locked with yours, a spark of desire evident.

he moved closer, and just when you thought he was going to kiss you again, he reached for your head and ruffled your hair before smirking. "how about i go get my dvds? i don't have work tomorrow."

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

୨୧ ⋆ ˚｡ summary: you’re dating college athlete chad meeks-martin, and everyone assumes that you’d be under his spell. turns out he’s more mesmerized with you instead.

⇝ pairing: chad meeks-martin x fem!reader

⇝ cw’s: partying, alcohol, absolute simp chad, cowboy!chad, suggestiveness, and cursing. 

⇝ notes: i heart cowboy!chad..

masterlist  |  rules

Lees verder

lightning & chemistry

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader

summary: you find yourself trapped with trent in your professor's office with a storm raging outside, forcing you two to sort out your problems.

word count: 3k

warnings: language. this is fluff. idiots in love?

a/n: this fic officially commemorates the first usage of 'y/n' on a karotland production. everyone CLAP!!👏🏽 i honestly dont know what this is lmaoo. i just needed it out of my drafts hehehe, enjoyyyy

You glanced up towards the greying sky, eyeing the heavy clouds as you walked on the stoned pavement leading towards the professor’s building. You tried to calm yourself, repeatedly telling yourself that this wasn’t the storm that your weather app had alerted you about in the morning that you had merely scoffed at, deciding to forgo anything that could have brave the rain.

You clutched the file closer to your chest containing the last assignment needed by your professor before spring break would start.You really wanted to kick yourself for not submitting it yesterday, deciding to pull your roommate Sarah’s ears when you would see her again. What had she said? But this is the last time we’ll get to hang out without the pressure of exams! You had a mind to make today the last day ever for Sarah when you got back.

Well, if you got back.

The trees began to sway a little with the wind picking up but still not enough to make you worry. Or maybe that was your delusion talking. Besides there were other people walking around campus with you so it didn’t concern you to the level of breaking into a run to a nearby shelter.  Your eyes remained fixed on the path in front of you.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

The familiar voice made you falter in your steps, glancing over your shoulder to see Trent jogging up to you and falling in step with you. “Hey.”

You rolled your eyes at him in greeting, feeling annoyance add to your anxiety. “What are you doing outside? Don’t you see the storm brewing up?”

“Says the person who is currently marching furiously through campus,” Trent said, adjusting the straps of his backpack. His gaze fell on file you were holding, “You’re submitting the assignment on the last day!? No way, lemme get a picture of this.”

Your cheeks got hot as you smacked Trent’s phone out of your face. You were definitely going to pull Sarah’s ears. “Go away Trent! I don’t need an addition to my ever growing problems.”

Trent grinned mischievously, putting his phone away and tapping the file he was holding in his right hand. “I’m only messing with you; I was also on the way to submit mine.”

“Of course, you were,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You sure you didn’t have it all neatly wrapped up and ready to go days ago?”

“Melts my heart that you know me so well,” Trent gushed causing you to stomp your footsteps in frustration and purposefully walking a few steps ahead of him.

You didn’t miss his smirk from the corner of your eye as he lazily caught up to your new speed. Trent seemed in no mood of taking a hint of him being unwanted, continuing to walk with you with an aloof expression on his face as you tried to huff at his presence and throw him dirty looks whenever your shoulder would clash with his.

You turned your face to snap at him to keep his distance when a sudden blast of wind hit you out of nowhere, the force so fierce that it took you surprise cause you to stumble back into Trent’s shoulder, his hand forming a firm grip on your arm to make sure you did not fall.

Before you could register the shock of being held in Trent’s strong arms, the raindrops came down in a sudden downpour, the noise almost deafening. The cold temperature of the rain caused you to suck in a sharp breath in surprise and press yourself closer to Trent’s warm side.

“Oh shit!” You heard Trent exclaim. “C’mon we have to get out of this rain.”

He took your hand and pulled you along with him, making a break for the professor’s office building that was only a little way ahead. You tried your best not to slip on the wet stoned pathway, grateful for Trent’s hand knowing well that without it, you would have fallen smack down on your face long ago.

You and Trent exchanged a glance, your clothes soaked through despite the limited time that you had spent in the rain. For a moment, you both stood in silence, the only sound coming was the steady drumming of rain outside the building doors, Trent’s warm unwavering grip still in your hand.

“Well, this is just perfect,” You muttered, snatching your hand back and wringing out your sleeve.

Trent chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m really glad I decided to bring my assignment covered in a file. My shoes on the other hand,” he glanced down at them, “Well, I can’t say the same for them.”

You shot Trent a dirty look, letting out a sigh of exasperation before trudging inwards. You checked on your assignment, relief flooding your body knowing that it was as dry as a bone.

The squelching sound of wet footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, Trent’s footsteps out of sync with yours. The door to your professor’s office was shut, making you stop in your steps. Trent bumped into you with a gentle ‘oof’ leaving his lips, not expecting you to stop so suddenly.

“Why have we stopped?” Trent blinked, peering over your head.

“The door is closed.”

“Okay. So?”

“So??” You sighed, irritated. “Well we can’t possibly go in.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s closed,” You said in a seething tone, pointing at the door.

Trent rolled his eyes at that, pushing forward past you and immediately going for the handle. Before you could protest, he twisted the doorknob and swung the door wide open, letting out a little ‘aha!’. He walked inside, waiting a moment before looking over his shoulder to see you still standing where you were. “Aren’t you gonna come in?”

You hesitated, clutching your assignment tighter. “I don’t know. Is it even okay for us to be in here?”

“Yeah,” Trent’s voice came from inside the office, “They only lock it after 8pm whenever the professor has given out an assignment for submission. Besides,” his head popped back into view, “It is a well known make out spot.”

You scoffed at that, heat crawling up your neck, entering through the threshold and heading straight towards the desk where Trent’s assignment now lay.

“I’m kidding,” Trent chuckled, “That’s actually Professor Willbury’s office next door.”

If only looks could kill, Trent would have been done for with the glare you were giving him on your way out after having submitted your work. “Let’s leave before I have the misfortune of being discovered alone with you inside a secluded room.”

You began to walk back from where you two had entered the building, praying that the rain had let up so you could go back to the safety of your cozy dorm room instead of having to spend anymore unnecessary time with Trent. The closer you got, the louder the sound of the rain started to get, sinking any hopes of a safe trip back.

Trent whistled in surprise, “How has that gotten faster?”

“Well we’re not going anywhere for a while,” You said mournfully, throwing yourself on the bench that was put up against one side of the wall of the hallway. With a sigh, Trent took a seat opposite to you on an identical bench.

You focused on your shoes, noting the splatter of mud on the soles, trying to ignore Trent’s whistling that seemed to have no real tune. You thought that after months of sharing the same classroom, his presence would become more digestible but sadly that was not the case.

Trent was…okay. Annoying, sure. But okay. Your official introduction to him had been in class when you had accidentally smacked your pen so that it had fallen right next to Trent’s foot who was at the time sat in front of you. You had politely tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he could pick it up for you. But the look Trent had given you made it seem as though you had asked him to bring the planet pluto for you. After a million grunts, he had picked it up, dropped the pen on your desk and had gone back to his notebook.

After a strange few interactions, Trent had slowly begun to warm up to you but your petty mind had latched onto the pen episode quite fiercely, still maintaining an air of coldness towards him. Again, it’s not like you had asked for his kidney, just to pass your pen back; a seemingly easy task to do without giving you one hell of an attitude.

The closest you had come to breaking that resolve was during a certain house party when you had suddenly gotten lost between a crowd of people dancing, being pushed around in your unstable shoes when out of nowhere, Trent had you gripped by your forearm, guiding you out of the crowd. He had let go of your hand just as quick as he had grabbed it, shooting a small smile your way before going back to his friends.

You thought about that moment a lot, the way his hot hand had held onto you so securely. You at times wondered if he remembered it all or even thought about it, never having acknowledged it to you again.

“So are you going home during the break?” Trent’s voice tore you out of your thoughts.

You stared at him hard, mind not processing despite your ears hearing what he had said. “What?”

Trent chuckled. “Spring break? Are you gonna go home or stay on campus?”

“Oh,” You said blankly, “Yeah I’m going home by the train on Sunday afternoon.”

Trent ‘aahed’ at that, pursing his lips. You shuffled your feet closer to yourself, sitting up a bit straighter, “You?”

“Yeah, I’ll be driving home on Monday. My home’s fairly close so it won’t take long.”

You nodded at that, sniffing your nose, unsure of what to say. Trent’s foot began to tap lightly against the floor as he fixated his gaze up on the ceiling.

It weirded you out how little conversation there was between you as you looked onto the patterned floor, unsure on how to pass the time. You looked up to Trent at the same time he looked down at you, eyes locking in an instant before the two of you looked sideways in opposite directions, breaking the contact.

Trent jumped up from his seat as he walked towards the main door, peering out from the side windows at the pouring rain that showed no sign to stop. Your eyes followed his every move, your heart leaping in your chest when he suddenly spun around to you. “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella in your bag?”

You looked at him confused, “No, why?”

“I dunno,” He shrugged casually, “We could try and make a run for it.”

Just when he said that a loud clap of thunder boomed outside causing Trent to jump a little. You gave him a teasing smile, shaking your head, “Wow. I can’t be that bad of company that you’re willing to brave the weather outside instead of sitting here with me.”

Trent froze where he was, not expecting your teasing tone. He took a moment to recollect his thoughts, relaxing his shoulders. He walked up to where you were, plopping down next to you, and in a tone just as teasing as yours, “I was just being mindful of you not wanting to be seen with me in such a popular make out spot.”

“I thought you said that was Professor Willbury’s?”

“Well that’s number one, this,” he gestured with his hands, “is number two on the list.”

“There’s a list?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Why?” He leaned towards you, eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go somewhere else then?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation blooming in your stomach again (or were you mistaking your irritation for something else?), “Forget it! You’re impossible so let’s just wait in silence.”

“Okay sorry! I didn’t mean that. I’ll be normal now,” Trent quickly apologized with a chuckle, sitting back and upright. “I just get a bit nervous around you.”

The laughed that escaped your lips was highly unprompted, coming out a bit crueler than you had wanted, “Yeah sure okay. You nervous around me.”

He gawked at you, looking a bit confused, “Why’d you say it like that?”

You don’t know why but that made you laugh out louder, pretty sure that there was an insult somewhere in his words but you couldn’t find it. “I’m sorry,” You said between laughs, “That’s just the most insane thing I’ve heard all week.”

Trent folded his arms in front of his chest, huffing out a breath, “Well it’s not my fault that for someone who’s so smart, you’re so dense. But don’t worry sweetheart, you haven’t broken my resolve for flirting with you yet.”

Scratch frame. Wait. What?

You looked at him, his brown eyes holding you captive as you searched his face for answers. You peered at him, trying to discern if he was pulling your leg. He had to be, right?

Because you would have known if he was flirting with you. Was it when he started sitting next to you in class instead of in front of you? Or was it when you ran into him on campus in the middle of the night and he walked you to your dorm despite your protests?

The parties where he would suddenly appear, whispering in your ear how good you looked? All the bickering you two would do in the library and everyone would desperately shush you? That was him flirting and not trying to rile you up?

You licked your dry lips, Trent’s eyes falling down at the motion. You broke out into an awkward chuckle, “What do you mean flirting?”

It was Trent’s turn to look surprised now, searching your face for answers. Once he saw that you were being serious, he inhaled a sharp breath following it with laughter. He smacked his palm against his forehead, letting out a small groan, “Oh god this explains so much.” He composed himself, eyes now twinkling as he leaned close to your face, “You’re telling me I’ve been busting my ass, following you around, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and you’re asking me ‘what do you mean flirting?’?

You tried your best not to squirm under his gaze, gulping heavily at his close proximity, “I thought you hated me.”

Trent let out a low chuckle, his hot breath fanning your face, “Now what would make you even think that?”

“The pen,” You mumbled.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“The pen,” You said in a louder voice now, “When I asked you to give me my pen back, the way you did it made it seem like I had asked something impossible for you to do, all groans and moans.”

“That class,” Trent’s fingers lightly grazed your knee, sending a gently shiver down your back, “Was right after the first training session of the year. I was just sore from the workout.”

“Oh.” You felt so stupid right now, mentally slamming your head against a wall for basing an entire opinion on someone after a silly first interaction despite there being multiple evidence to suggest the contrary.

But you had never considered them, brain still grasping firmly to the ‘pen incident’. You would have muttered out an apology if you weren’t so distracted by Trent’s feather light touches, flexing your thigh involuntarily under his touch.

Trent was so close that you and him were breathing the same air now, breaths synchronized. With his free hand, he gently caressed your cheek, angling your face closer to his. You let him bring you close, eyes fluttering when his nose nudged yours, his lips ghosting over yours so softly that you felt your skin prickle under his. You parted your lips in anticipation, breath getting a little erratic, desperately waiting for the moment when his hot lips would finally press against yours, confirming your suspicions that they were good for something other than talking back to you.

But the moment didn’t come.

His warmth disappeared. You frowned deeply, opening your eyes to see Trent sitting back in his original position, an amused look on his face as he took in your flustered one. He casually picked at his trousers, flicking off a stray thread, “Hmm, I don’t really know what to say.”

The heat in your cheeks now turned into the heat in your chest. You let out a noise of distaste, getting up from your seat and stomping towards the exit door. You looked hard at the rain, hoping the sight of water would cool you down, hands curled into fists on your sides. Still so fucking annoying.

You gasped as you felt a hand slide against your waist, the warmth enveloping you again with Trent’s low baritone, hushed voice pressed against your ear, “Guess I’ll have to plead my case harder with you.”

You leaned into his side, hip pressing against his side, enjoying the little sigh that left his lips, “Finally going to stop acting like a coward and ask me out on a date?”

He offered you a wide grin, “Sure. Mini-golf course on Friday night sounds good?” You nodded, smiling back and feeling his fingers squeeze your waist, “Or you know we could just head back to the professor’s-”

Trent laughed when you smacked his chest, cutting his sentence short. “Alright alright, I’ll kiss you later then.”

Little idiot (Choi Su-bong x F! Reader)

summary: you’ve got a fever and text your best friend ‘hel me, m feelin hot’. he’s high and interprets it as you wanting him. but when he comes over it ends up being more wholesome than you (him) think.

warnings: dirty minded Su-bong, idiot with a crush, pretty wholesome, bad at feelings, clumsy, au with no games, brief mention of pills

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I’ve never used tumblr before, hope I’m doing this right! also English isn’t my first language so please correct me if you notice any typo :3 I’m open to requests if anybody likes this and would like to see more/something different!

"Hel me, m feelin hot."

When Su-bong first saw the message, he momentarily let go of the shisha, his eyes widening.

"Yo, what’s up, bro?"

Two of the guys around him snickered, the fruity, intoxicating smoke curling from his nostrils.

"A girl?"

A dark-haired guy, whose name he had long forgotten, craned his neck over his phone.

"Oooohh. Getting laid. I seee."

Su-bong stared at the screen. Usually so chatty, words suddenly got lost in his throat. The others lost interest in his phone, yet he kept rereading the message. "M feelin hot." His trousers tightened slightly, and he swallowed a groan.

"Shit, guys, I gotta go."

He rose, giving them a quick dap, and they smirked, mimicking breasts and an obscene gesture with their hands and mouths. He flipped them off and stumbled out of the bar. Could it be? No. He reread the message. "Hel me, m feelin hot." Were you in heat? Your period had ended about a week ago - you complained about it constantly - and he knew ovulation or whatever it was could make women... desperate. Could that be the reason? The thought sent a rush of exhilaration through him.

"Fuckkk," he exhaled.

His pants were growing uncomfortably tight. Clenching his cross in his palm, he flagged down a cab, reciting your address while attempting to stifle the impure thoughts unfurling in his mind. But he was burning up. The moment the taxi halted, he fumbled for old, crumpled bills in his pocket, shoved them at the driver, and stumbled out.

Then, suddenly, he doubled back and entered a convenience store, purchasing a small square packet. Protection. Breathe, he told himself. Just breathe. You had been very close friends for over a year, best friends, maybe too, ever since you, a nurse, had helped him when he’d gotten a pill lodged in his nostril. It hadn’t exactly been funny, but you had stifled a laugh while assisting him, smiling warmly. He had quite enjoyed the glimpse of cleavage beneath your uniform, the sight of your lips when you lowered your mask. But you had a boyfriend. And even though he had managed to dig up your number from the hospital database, you had blocked him.

Then, a few weeks later, he had spotted you at a bar, kissing some random guy. He had seized the opportunity to inform you that your "boyfriend" was downright hideous. You had laughed, telling him it wasn’t your boyfriend - you had just been dumped. You had unblocked him that night, and the two of you had been texting ever since.

You two never slept together. That is why, one, he was so damn confused, and well, two, that it had blossomed into something resembling a friendship. Getting along well, having inside jokes, he wasn’t sure he wanted that ruined for just a one-night stand. But damn, was he turned on right now.

The idea of sleeping with you, not sleeping with anyone, but you, it was so new and so… so good. And it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t before. Never. Which is why he was twice as confused now. Why was he feeling like this? Maybe, just maybe because you were great friends. Yeah, that was it. It could only be this.

Sure, it was sometimes ambiguous. And, well, you in scrubs drove him insane. But friendship wasn’t too bad. Especially when you allowed him to hug you, letting him nuzzle into your chest like a child. "Such a kid," you used to laugh. He was cute, but so immature.

You were so out of his league. Outgoing, confident, you had a job and not any job, you were a talented nurse, and you were funny and smart. Maybe that is why his heart beat so fast. Of course.

Now, however, his vision blurred. He stepped out of the store, unfastened his cross, and swallowed a pill to regain composure. Fuck. Nothing was strong enough to quell this fire.

Crossing the street, he reached your building, pushed the door - then cursed, remembering he had to pull (he always got it wrong). He took the stairs two at a time.

Shit. Triple shit. Standing before your door, he felt disoriented. Utterly disoriented. His heart pounded, palms slick, throat parched, like a teenager before his first crush. God. You were fine. But not just that. You were witty, and he adored your laughter. You even laughed at his dumb jokes.

He rang the doorbell.

No answer. Anxiety gnawed at him - had he misread the situation? He rang again, then checked his phone. The message was still there. Then why weren’t you-

He suddenly remembered he had your keys. He rummaged through his pocket, mistakenly pulling out his motorcycle keys before finally finding the right ones. Turning them in the lock, he stepped inside your small studio, only to find it empty. Panic swelled in his chest.

"Yo? Señorita?"

Fumbling for the light switch, he flipped it on - only to be met with utter chaos. Your apartment was in complete disarray, the air thick and stifling.

"Where are you? Fuck."

He set the convenience store bag atop a drawer and began searching. That’s when he noticed - the bathroom door, slightly ajar. And light flickered from within.

He panicked.

Then-

There you were. Gripping the faucet, face ablaze, lips trembling.

"My God, what’s wrong?"

He rushed forward, and you collapsed into his arms. Your breath, hot against his chest, trembled as you murmured, "Hot," "Fever," and "Lost."

Poor thing.

Biting his lip at his own idiocy, he carefully helped you out of the bathroom. He had no idea what he was doing - hesitated, then finally settled on laying you down on the couch before fetching a damp towel.

A feeble chuckle escaped your lips as you exhaled what little air remained in your lungs - because he hadn’t wrung out the towel, it was drenched, and he had grabbed the overused one hanging by the sink. That clumsy idiot.

He sat cross-legged beside the couch, back to you, fiddling with his cross.

"You want a pill? Might help."

You feebly smacked his shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. He turned, finding you feverish and drenched in sweat.

"Want me to open the window? Run downstairs for some painkillers? Or maybe give you a massage? Hey, señorita, don’t die on me!" he whined as you shut your eyes.

You mumbled again.

"M’sorry, I didn’t understand could you like repea-“

"Shut… up and come here," you managed.

His heartbeat went wild.

Trembling, he hesitantly perched at the edge of the couch, leaving a respectful gap. His back still faced you.

"Hey, don’t tell me you’ve never been in bed with a girl. Lie down and talk."

Well, you weren’t exactly wrong. But this was different. You weren’t just "a girl." And after tonight’s message, his mind definitely crossed a line, making it painful - humiliating, even - to face you.

But then, your feverish, trembling hand grasped his. And his whole body ignited.

Finally, with great effort, he lay down, swallowing hard, now facing you. Space was tight. You radiated heat. Then, without warning, you tucked your head against his chest, pressing your overheated skin into him, breathing laboriously. You burned against him, and his chest fluttered with butterflies.

"Hold me," you whispered. "Talk. Say something."

Tentatively, his fingers found your waist, pulling you in, holding your body weakly against his.

You gazed up at him, hands clutching his shirt, eyes wide, fever-bright. Sweat clung to your hair, strands plastered to your forehead, and beneath your long lashes, this gleaming gaze became the most breathtaking sight he had ever beheld.

Shit.

Desperate to steady his hammering heart, he forced words out.

"I… I’m working on a new track for the Underground rap battle. I really think I can win this time. It’s good. The manager says it could blow up."

Gradually, he relaxed, holding you closer, feeling your breathing even out against him. Your body slackened, and you nuzzled into his shirt, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and shisha.

"Hey, señorita, you should come watch me. I’m too sexy when I sing. Apparently, I sweat from my forehead, and it’s super hot. That’s what all the girls say when they hit on me. There’s a lot, you kno-"

He looked down.

Against him, you had drifted off.

A soft, barely-there snore. A faint trickle of drool. Stray strands of hair. Flushed cheeks.

And just like that, he forgot all about the small, unopened packet at the threshold, the heat your message had sparked within him, and focused solely on the languid softness of your form.

It suddenly struck him. More than any of his dirty thoughts, what he had truly longed for was this. Overcome with a mix of confusion and longing, he murmured a quiet "goodnight" that was swallowed by the surrounding darkness, his yawn stretching before he succumbed to the comforting pull of your embrace.

The next morning, when you awoke first, you were in full vitality. You sprang from the couch, flung open the windows to let in the air - it was stifling - and made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a refreshing glass of orange juice, after gently covering your friend.

Then, on the entryway shelf, you noticed a small bag, which you opened, revealing a distinctively familiar package.

You snatched your phone from the counter, suddenly recalling the message you had written. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you returned the protections to their original place, deciding to act oblivious, eyes gleaming, before grabbing the juice to cool off.

He was rather endearing, that little idiot.

ayy lmk what you guys think