#|| not like this though. we just hung out casually. it was cool...
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aueua · 2 months ago
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(I had a dream about this guy.)
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theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago
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PRIVATE | LN4
an: requested by @bhuijnbhuijn-blog this was so fun to make! it feels to good to make a smau after a few days of straight writing
fc: random girls on pintrest and isabel larosa
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thank you london and thank you to my beloved
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userone: seeing her live changed my brain chemistry
usertwo: oop- the flowers?
userthree: god she is stunning
yourbestfreind: mi amorrrrrr
yourusername: chiquita 😽
userfour: beloved??? has our man hater girl got herself a boyfriend
ekat19: hermosa
yourusername: ethan, basta.
userfive: is her beloved carl gallagher?????!??!?!?!?
appartment in monaco
You were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, barefoot, legs dangling as you watched Lando move around the open kitchen. The soft click of cabinet doors and the muted thud of a cereal box landing on the counter are the only sounds, apart from the faint music playing from your speaker. It was your calm playlist, just background noise, a playlist you curated 100% but one Lando pretended he created to wind you up. He didn’t mind—he hummed along sometimes, absentmindedly, just like now. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, making the moment feel even more private, more intimate.
Lando was shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It was a version of him few people ever get to see. No fireproof suit, no helmet. No world watching his every move. Here, in this quiet corner of your shared world, he was just... him. And you loved him like this, more than anything.
As he fumbled with the coffee machine, you leant back on your hands, your fingers curling against the cool granite of the counter. The smell of coffee mingled with the lazy warmth of the afternoon. You were both settled into this comfortable rhythm of being together, the kind of domesticity that felt almost foreign when you thought of your lives outside these walls—your career, his racing, the flashing lights and the fans.
But here, it was different.
You’d been thinking about it for a while now. The thought had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, and today felt like the right time to broach it. Or maybe it was just that the stillness of this moment made you feel brave. You took a breath, voice soft as you broke the quiet.
“I’ve been thinking…” Your words drift into the space between you, casual but with a certain weight that you know will catch his attention. Lando looked over at you, coffee cup in hand, waiting for you to continue. You smiled, trying to keep it light. “Maybe it’s time we go public… on Instagram.”
He froze for a beat, his eyes locking on yours as if he was trying to read your face, gauge how serious you were. Slowly, he set the cup down on the counter, his brow furrowing in that familiar way that meant he was already thinking too much.
“Public?” he repeated, like he was testing the word, feeling it out. His voice was calm, but you could sense the undertone of concern, the hesitation that came with anything that involves exposing more of your lives to the world outside. “You sure about that?”
You nodded, even though you knew he was not just asking for the sake of it. There was more behind his question than the words. It was not just a simple post to him—it was a line you were crossing, a step into a world he was all too familiar with, and not in a good way.
“I am,” you said softly. “We’ve been so careful, keeping things private, but… I don’t want to hide us anymore. I don’t want to pretend we’re not a part of each other’s lives.” You watched him as you spoke, searching his face for any sign of agreement, but he was still quiet, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting somewhere just past you.
Lando shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the granite, a telltale sign that his mind was working through what you’d just said. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his curls, the kind of movement that let you know he was trying to choose his words carefully.
“I get it,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but there was still a trace of reluctance. “But… it’s different for you. Your fans, they’re supportive. You’re already used to the attention. My world… it’s not like that. It can get ugly fast. And once we put it out there, it’s out there. We can’t take it back.”
You slid off the counter and moved toward him, your bare feet silent on the floor. Standing in front of him, you reached for his hands, threading your fingers through his. “I know, love. I know how hard it can be for you. But I’m not asking for some big, dramatic reveal. Just something simple. A photo. Something that feels like us, something quiet.”
He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the protective instinct he’d always had when it came to the life you’d built together versus the part of him that wanted to trust in your strength, in the fact that you could handle it.
“I don’t want them coming after you,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to you. “I don’t want you to deal with the kind of hate I get.”
Lifting one hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently, your thumb grazed over his skin. “I’ve been in the public eye for years now. I’ve had my share of negativity, too. But we’ve got each other, right? We can handle it. I can handle it.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And I’m tired of hiding something that makes me so happy.”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to imagine what it would be like—the backlash, the media storm. But when he opened them again, there was something softer there, a quiet surrender. He still looked hesitant, but there was an acceptance in his expression now, like maybe, just maybe, he was willing to trust you on this.
“A photo,” he repeated, his voice almost resigned but not unkind. “Something simple.”
You nodded, your smile growing. “Just one.”
He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “You really want this, huh?” His voice was a little lighter now, though you could still feel the weight of the decision lingering between you.
“I do,” you murmured into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean and warm, like home. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Just something that feels like us. Something honest.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your waist. “Alright,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “But if it all blows up in our faces, you’re the one dealing with the PR disaster.”
You laughed, the sound soft and full of relief. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility.” You leant up and kissed him, your lips brushing his with a gentleness that said more than words ever could. “Promise.”
landonorris
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enjoyed the final show of the break, time for austin
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maxfewtrell: sick hoodie where's it from
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userone: he is so HOT
usertwo: my man my man my man
quadrant: that helmet 👌
userthree: why is this man at so many concerts gah damn
userfour: i don't want to sound crazy but...
userfive: LET'S GO LANDO
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yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me
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userone: NO WAY
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userfour: HER BOYFRIEND IS LANDO NORRIS
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landonorris: i love you
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userseven: defo cooler than lando
ekat19: damn, he stole my bitch
yourusername: ethan.
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appartment in monaco
It had been a few weeks since you had gone public, and the house felt the same. The kitchen still smelt like coffee in the afternoons, and Lando’s laughter still echoed through the rooms. But outside, in the world that wasn’t contained by these walls, things had shifted.
The first few days after you had posted that picture—a simple, candid shot of you two tangled on the couch, laughing at something neither of you can remember now—felt like a blur. Your Instagram blew up instantly, flooded with comments, some gushing, some not so kind. The had media picked it up, headlines spun their usual stories, and of course, his world—Formula 1, with its intense, relentless scrutiny—had its own opinions. Most of it was harmless, but some of it... wasn’t.
Lando was standing in front of the window, staring out at nothing in particular. You could tell from the way his shoulders were tense, from the way his hand kept moving to rub the back of his neck, that something had been weighing on him. He’d been quieter these last few days, not in the way that shut you out, but in the way that let you know he was overthinking, worrying about things he didn’t need to.
You were sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through Instagram, but your attention was on him. You watched as he checked his phone again, probably seeing another headline or some new wave of comments. His jaw tightened, and that was when you knew it’s time to say something.
��Lan,” you called out softly, trying to break the tension in the room. “Come over here.”
He hesitated for a second, like he was debating whether to pull you into his worry or let it be, but then he walked over, his feet dragging slightly on the wooden floor. He sank down beside you on the couch, letting out a long, tired breath. His arm came around your shoulders instinctively, pulling you closer, but his mind was clearly somewhere else.
“Talk to me,” you said gently, tilting your head to look up at him.
He didn’t meet your eyes at first, he just stared at the floor. “I’ve been seeing some of the comments,” Lando admitted, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep it casual but couldn’t quite manage it. “There’s a lot of hate. A lot of people saying… awful things. About you, about us.” He paused, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want this for you.”
You felt his arm tighten around you, like he was trying to protect you from something that was already out there, something he couldn’t control. It broke your heart a little, the way he carried that weight, like he was responsible for every cruel word thrown your way.
You shifted in his arms, turning to face him, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “I know,” you said softly. “But, darling, it’s not getting to me. Not even a little.” You smiled, trying to get him to see the truth in your eyes. “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that people are going to say whatever they want. But they don’t matter. You do.”
He finally looked up at you, his brow furrowed, still sceptical. “But some of it’s brutal,” he insisted, his voice tight. “They’re dragging you through the mud just because we went public. I didn’t want you to deal with this part of my life, the ugly part.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head, and the sound seemed to catch him off guard. “Honestly? I’ve dealt with worse. You should’ve seen the comments I got after that one music video,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease his worry. “But this? This is nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced, but you could see him trying to process what you were saying, like he wanted to believe you but couldn’t quite let go of his own guilt. So, you decided to prove it to him in a way you knew would get through that thick head of his.
With a sly smile, you grabbed your phone and opened Twitter, your fingers moved quickly over the screen as you pulled up your account. He watched you, confused, until you glanced up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
You bit your lip, pretending to think about it, then you tilted the phone toward him so he could see the tweet you’d just typed out. In bold letters, it read:
"how i sleep knowing i get to sleep with this hunk of a man at night and you don’t "
Below the text was the picture you’d been sitting on for a while—one of him sleeping in the paddock last season.
His eyes widened as he read it, then flicked to the photo. “You’re not serious,” he said, though there’s a laugh hidden in his voice now.
“Oh, I am very serious,” you said, grinning at him as you hovered over the “Tweet” button. “If people want to hate, let them. But I’m going to remind them who I get to come home to every night.”
He stared at you for a second, then shook his head, a small, incredulous smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
You shrugged, your finger tapping the button before he could say another word. “It’s out there now,” you said, holding up the phone in triumph. “Let them come for me.”
He leant back against the couch, running his hands over his face, but you could see the way his shoulders had finally relaxed, the tension ebbing away. He laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and it warmed you from the inside out. “You’re actually insane,” he said, pulling you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
You looked up at him, beaming. “Sweetheart, they can say whatever they want. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters.”
For the first time in days, the worry in his eyes faded completely. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you,” he murmured, the words soft but full of meaning.
“I love you more.”
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haters gunna hate, anyway check out my new song x
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httpvomitello · 2 months ago
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Call of Distraction *⁠.⁠✧
Donnie / Leo / Mikey
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Raph was in the middle of lifting weights in the lair when April’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and grinned.
“It’s (Y/N),” she said, raising an eyebrow at Raph.
He looked over, feigning disinterest as he kept lifting, but April caught the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever, put her on speaker,” he muttered, trying to act casual.
April rolled her eyes but tapped the button, and your voice filled the room. “April! Please tell me you’re free. I’m drowning over here, and I could really use a break from staring at this ridiculous amount of work.”
“Rough day, huh?” April replied, stifling a smile as she noticed Raph trying not to react.
“Oh, you have no idea. I’ve been buried in paperwork for hours,” you sighed dramatically. “I think my brain is starting to leak out of my ears.”
Raph couldn’t resist. “Sounds like someone’s got a low tolerance for hard work,” he grumbled, loud enough for you to hear but keeping his eyes on his weights.
“Oh, is that Raph?” you shot back. “I thought I heard someone grumbling from the peanut gallery. How’s it going, Big Red?”
He rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smirk. “Better than you, apparently. If I had a dollar for every time you called to complain about work, I’d be a millionaire.”
“Yeah? Well, if I had a dollar for every time you were a pain in the ass, I’d be right there with you,” you quipped back.
Mikey, watching from across the room, snickered and whispered to Donnie, “They’re like an old married couple. Look at him tryin’ to keep cool.”
Raph shot his brothers a warning glare before replying to you. “Hey, I’m just saying, maybe if you stopped yappin’ and started working, you wouldn’t be ‘drowning’ all the time.”
“Aw, Raph, I didn’t know you cared so much about my productivity,” you replied sweetly, dripping with sarcasm. “You sound just like a concerned parent.”
April covered her mouth to hide her laughter, watching as Raph’s face turned slightly pink. “I ain’t concerned,” he grumbled, barely able to mask his smile. “Just pointing out that maybe whining about it won’t get the job done.”
“Fair point,” you shot back, tone playful. “But, hey, maybe if you actually visited once in a while, you’d see that I don’t just sit around whining. Not that you’d have the guts to come out of that sewer.”
“Oh, you think I wouldn’t?” he replied, straightening up and putting down his weights. “I’d show up anytime if it meant shutting you up for five minutes.”
“Bet you wouldn’t last five minutes around here without getting bored out of your mind,” you countered, clearly entertained.
“Oh yeah?” he shot back, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement. “Bet I’d get you to quiet down faster than you think.”
“Bring it on, then,” you challenged, laughing. “I’d love to see you try.”
“Alright, alright,” April interjected, clearly enjoying the exchange but finally deciding to step in. “Before this escalates into a full-on fight, maybe we should end the call?”
“Wait, wait!” you cut in. “Raph, come over next time me and April hang out. You know how much I love pushing your buttons.”
Raph froze, his brothers all looking at him with wide grins, barely containing their laughter.
“Uh—" Raph stammered, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to keep his cool, but a blush was definitely creeping in. “Well… maybe you just think you’re good at it. Doesn’t mean I’d let you win.”
“Oh, trust me,” you replied smoothly, “I’d win. Easy.”
Raph was about to reply, but April, stifling her laughter, ended the call before he could get another word in. The moment she hung up, his brothers lost it, laughing hysterically at his barely-concealed fluster.
“Aw, come on, Raph!” Mikey teased, clapping him on the back. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
Raph shrugged it off, though his ears were definitely still pink. “Shut it, Mikey. She’s just—she’s just annoying, that’s all.”
Donnie smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Sure. And that’s why you haven’t missed a single chance to throw in a comeback, right?”
Raph just grumbled, pretending not to care as he picked his weights back up. But deep down, he was already hoping you’d call again soon—if only so he could have the last word.
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cimmanonrowl · 5 months ago
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Gods & Monsters
Part One | Chapter Navigation
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Pairing: aaron hotchner x criminal daughter!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: age gap, forbidden relationship, unprotected rough sex, creampie, begging, innocence kink, rutting, somnophilia, a little cnc and panicking, dirty talk, pure filth, sir & daddy (only used thrice) kink, dom/sub undertones, innocent!reader, vague to inaccurate crime and law enforcement details
You woke up in the middle of the night. As you always have in the past few weeks. The room was covered in darkness; with only the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. And in every gentle blow of the wind, the white fabric on the open veranda door sways in a mellow rhythm.
You pulled the covers up to your chest and rolled to your side, your heart hammering a little faster as you reached your phone on the bedside table and unlocked it. 
No reply.
Your last message to Aaron, sent hours ago, still marked as unread.
You stared quietly at the screen, your eyes tracing over the last words you sent. It was just something simple: a question about his day, followed by a smiley face, light and casual. You were bored earlier so you decided to reach out to him. You even sent him a picture of the chocolate cookies you baked... but to no avail.
He’s probably just busy, you caught yourself saying in your head. The thought was firm with no edge or flicker of doubt. Aaron has his own life, a tedious job, and his own things to deal with. You knew that. Maybe he got caught up with work again, or he’s out with his team, or maybe he’s just tired; too exhausted to do anything but fall into the comfort of his bed and sleep.
Or maybe he simply doesn’t feel the need to reply to your unimportant message.
Your mouth felt dry with that thought. And the silence of the night pressed stealthily against your ears.
Milk. That was enough to draw you out of bed, your feet touching the cool wooden floor with a soft thud. The mansion was still— the kind of quiet that would usually lull you back to sleep. Usually, this meant your father and his men were out for a business matter. Sometimes, Father dear was just too hung up on alcohol and drugs that he forgot to come home at a decent time.
Quietly, you pushed open your bedroom door, careful not to let the hinges creak too loudly. The mansion in which you recently just moved into was heavily guarded just like the past ones.
You stepped into the hallway. Even though it’s only been a couple of months, every painting and corner of the dimly lit hallway was familiar to your senses. You expect to be the only one awake in your household, aside from the night guards. The kitchen would be empty as always.
But halfway there, a sound caught your ear— a murmur, low and indistinct, drifting from your father’s office.
You halted in your tracks, your ears perking at the noise. The door to your father’s office was slightly ajar, a thin sliver of light cutting through the darkness of the hallway. The murmur becomes clearer as you inched closer— three, maybe four voices, deep and serious, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. 
“We fucking need it done by tomorrow,” one voice complained, rough around all the edges. “The delays are making them antsy.”
“Do you fucking think I don’t know that? Tell those motherfuckers to wait.”
You froze.
The other voices, they’re strangers to you. But you recognize that voice immediately. Your father’s unmistakable deep and commanding one. Yet you were used to this, used to crossing paths with different vile men your father worked with.
“What about the feds?” another voice asked. “They’ve been sniffing around more than usual.”
There was a low and dangerous chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Let them. They won’t find anything.”
“The fuck you mean let them? Are you seriously still convinced that you don’t have a mole in this hellhole?”
Then there was a pause, the kind that felt like everyone was holding their breath. They know about the mole. Of course, they do. They’ve never had delays in their operations such as this before. Only an idiot would count it as a mere coincidence.
You leaned in, your ear almost touching the door, careful not to let it move even a fraction.
“All of your operations were interrupted by the feds.”
You heard the scrape of a chair against the floor, and then the clink of a glass being set down. “I don’t think it’s my men you should be poking your nose about. What about your men?”
“Are you fucking saying that my me–”
“What about the witness?” the first voice intercepted, quieter now, as if the words themselves are too dangerous to speak aloud.
“Taken care of,” your father replied with a sharp sigh, his tone so cold it chills your blood. “Permanently.”
There was a murmur of approval from the others, and you can vividly picture them nodding in agreement. Maybe even smiling. You pressed closer, trying to make sense of it all, but your thoughts were a tangled mess of fear and confusion.
“How much are we expecting on this one again?” another man asked, his voice gruff and heavy with tobacco smoke.
“Enough to keep everyone happy,” your father replied. “This is our last big score for this month. After that, we lie low for the meantime.”
There was another pause, and you heard the rustle of papers, the sound of something being slid across the table. “It’s all here,” your father muttered. “Everything we need. We move three nights from now.”
“Three nights?” the second voice echoed, surprised. “Why not tomorrow?”
“Yes,” there was no mistaking the steel in your father’s voice. “Because I said so.”
Every muscle in your body tensed as the meeting continued. They speak in half sentences, in code words, as if they know someone might be listening.
And then, as suddenly as it began, there was a sudden scraping of chairs, a loud cough, followed by the sound of feet moving. They were wrapping up, and you realized with a jolt that you need to move.
The stairs were just a few steps away. You could bolt downstairs and go straight to the kitchen as you intended. But instead, you slipped back into your room, closing the door silently behind you, and wished that the silence of the night would lull you back to another restless sleep.
When morning finally came, warm light filtered through the thin curtains and into your room. Bones popped beneath the covers as you stretched, your mind foggy with sleep. Yet you forced yourself to sit up, the blankets sliding off your shoulders.
For a moment, you contemplated reaching your phone and sending a message to Aaron. You couldn’t wait to tell him about everything you heard last night. But with the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway outside your room, you thought your information could wait until after breakfast.
You pad softly to your closet, slipping into a pair of fluffy pink slippers before making your way out of the room. You were still wearing your nightdress, a soft, pale blue cotton gown that fell just below your knees. It looked delicate, with a lace trim at the neckline, something you have had for ages. The fabric clung lightly to your skin with every move, the morning air cool against your bare arms.
When you passed by your father’s office, your thoughts immediately drifted back to the conversation you overheard last night. It felt distant now, almost like a dream, but there was this familiar tension in your chest that you knew all those things had happened.
“Morning, sweetheart,” your father greeted you, his voice deep and steady as you stepped into the dining area. “Come, have some breakfast.”
He gestured to the empty chair beside him. Father dear and Harwin were already seated at the table. The dining room was bright with morning light, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the scent of eggs and toast. Your father sat at the head of the table as always, while Harwin sat across from him, his posture straight, his eyes immediately flicking up to you as you entered.
“Good morning,” you replied softly, forcing a smile as you approached the table. 
You were aware of how you must look— the nightdress, the slightly tousled hair, the way the morning light catches on your skin. You seem almost ethereal, innocent. But there was nothing innocent about the way Harwin’s eyes followed you as you move. It was not leering, no. Not inappropriate either, but it was there— an intense, piercing look that made you acutely aware of every step you take.
You slipped into the chair next to your father, feeling Harwin’s gaze settled on you. His expression was carefully neutral, but you could sense the way he was assessing you, as if he was trying to see right through you.
“Good morning, Miss,” he greeted, his voice polite and almost formal. He offered you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I hope you slept well.”
You nodded, and your hand trembled lightly as you reached for the glass of orange juice in front of you. “I did. Thank you, Harwin,” your voice was quiet as you replied, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile calm of the morning. 
But even as you say it, you know it was not entirely true. The remnants of last night’s tension clung to you, making the hair at the back of your neck rise, your breathing almost heavy.
Your father cut into his toast in rough movements. “Harwin will be spending more time around the house,” he said casually, his tone leaving little room for you to react. “I have some business that’ll keep me away, and I want to make sure you’re looked after.”
Business.
Your stomach tightened at his words. You glanced at Harwin, who was still watching you with keen eyes. You know this wasn’t just about keeping an eye on the house— this is about you. 
And the realization sent a shiver down your spine.
Harwin nodded in agreement with your father’s words, his gaze still fixed on you. “Just a precaution,” his tone was even, as if this was all perfectly normal, perfectly reasonable. “I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”
Safe. The word echoed in your mind. You know what it really means— under surveillance, monitored, controlled. It’s not protection. This is not about your safety; your father wants to keep you on a leash, and you can already feel it tightening around you.
The corner of your lips twitched as you gave him a smile. “Thanks, Harwin. I appreciate it,” you said instead, dropping your gaze to the plate in front of you.
Your father continued eating, his attention seemingly on his breakfast, but you knew better. He’s always watching, always aware, and now, with Harwin here, you know you are under a different kind of watch.
But, at least, Harwin was polite enough to keep his distance. Though you could always feel his gaze following you, measuring every step you take, every breath. For the entire day, your father’s orders became clear— Harwin was here more than to protect you. He was here to ensure you don’t stray, that someone will watch every move you make.
“Harwin,” you called out softly before glancing over your shoulder. “Do you think we can go to the mall later?”
He seemed unfazed by the request, silently watching you lay on a lounger by the poolside with an open book perched on your lap. “No, Miss. If you need anything, I can have some of your housemaids to shop for you.”
“But I want fresh air?”
“We’re outside at the moment, Miss.”
“Yes, in our garden.”
He frowned a little. “The air is fresh as far as I can tell, Miss.”
And with that, you heaved a deep sigh. 
As the sun began to set, you found yourself in your room, your phone clutched in your hand. The events of the past hours have left you feeling trapped and cornered like a mouse. The walls of the house seemed to crumble in on you– it was suffocating.
You opened your messaging app, your fingers hovering over Aaron’s name. It’s been a day since he last responded, the silence from his end gnawing at you, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You need to see him. Besides, you have the information he surely needs. He would have no choice but to respond to your text this time.
Can we meet? you typed slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. You add the details quickly— I have the information. The usual spot?
You hesitated for a moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. But then you pressed it, the message shooting off into the void, your hope clinging to it like a lifeline.
The minutes ticked by in silence. Then your phone buzzed in your hand, with Aaron’s name lighting up the screen.
On my way, was all he said. And for some reason, it was enough. It has always been. So you sighed in relief and smiled to yourself.
Right then and there, you knew what you had to do next. Escaping Harwin’s notice won’t be easy, not with him and the other guards roaming the mansion, but you were determined. You have done it before, though never with this much at stake. 
Taking a deep breath, you slipped on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, something that will help you blend in. You grabbed a small bag, stuffed it with a few essentials, then waited for the right moment to finally move.
The silence of your house made every step and the creaking of hinges amplified. From the window, you see one of the guards patrolling the perimeter, his flashlight cutting through the growing dusk. You know there was another by the front gate, and probably more stationed at various points around the property. Getting past them will be tricky, but you have mapped out a plan in your mind.
Harwin was downstairs. The front gate was obviously not an option, not with him and the guards so close. Instead, you decide on your usual route— through the back, where the bushes and trees provide more cover and the lamp posts are seldomly lit.
You waited until a house helper passed by outside your room, her back turned. You moved quickly and quietly down the hallway as you slipped out, sticking close to the walls to avoid any creaking floorboards. The house, large as it is, felt stifling.
With quick strides, you reached the back staircase, your heart pounding in your ears as you descended. The kitchen was just down the hall, and beyond that, the back door that leads to the garden. But you were not alone.
From where you were standing, you heard footsteps— another house helper, moving through the kitchen. You held your breath, peering around the corner just enough to see her pass by, her attention focused on checking the locks. She didn’t see you, didn’t know you were there, but you almost choked on your saliva as you bit your tongue.
As quickly as she moved on, you seized your chance. You slipped into the kitchen, the cool tile under your feet grounding you as you cross to the back door. Your hands shook in fear and panic as you unlocked it, praying it didn’t make too much noise.
And it didn’t.
The garden is shrouded in twilight as you step outside, the cool evening air hitting your face. And for a moment, you felt a rush of freedom. You can’t remember how many times you’ve done this before. But it never, ever felt easy. You doubt it will ever be.
You slipped through the gate, closed it carefully behind you, and took off running down the back alley. You didn’t stop running until you were several blocks away; your lungs burning, your legs aching. Only then do you allow yourself to slow down, and breathe. 
It was almost a two-hour commute to the motel where you usually meet up with Aaron. The neon sign flickered in the dusk with a dull glow over the empty parking lot. You made your way to the room you know so well, pulling out the spare key Aaron gave you exactly a year ago.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the thick curtains drawn shut. It was a modest place; a little different from the lavishness of your spacious room but you’ve loved this as much. With a soft thud, you dropped your bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, your breath still coming in quick, shallow bursts. The silence here is different from the silence at home— this one feels familiar, and light.
You checked your phone quickly, hoping to see another message from Aaron, but there was nothing. A small pang of worry settled in your chest, but you pushed it aside. Aaron never broke his promise. He said he was coming, and you trust him. All you have to do is wait.
Your eyes started to droop as you lay down on the soft mattress, the adrenaline of your escape wearing off. You felt drained. Your legs aching. You curled up on your side, your phone clutched in your hand, waiting for the sound of his knock on the door.
But the minutes dragged by and your eyes fluttered shut, and before you knew it, after a long while, you fell into a deep slumber.
“Angel… fuck…” someone’s hot breath fanning over your ear roused you from the depth of your sleep. “You feel so good…”
You stirred and attempted to stretch your arms, even move your legs when all of a sudden, you felt it. The cold air licked the bare surface of your naked body. A low whine rumbled through your chest as you slowly, groggily so, blinked your eyes in confusion. Your vision was unfocused for a moment, sending you into a flight of panic as you grew aware of what was happening.
“Who-” the question was left hanging in the air as soon as Aaron’s thumb found your aching clit.
His hard cock was pressed against your desperate cunt, sliding through your wet folds at a rousing pace. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as he continued rutting his girthy cock against your swollen clit. You have no idea how he managed to undress you without waking you up. Although it didn’t surprise you, you’re still curious– about how expert and knowledgeable Aaron was with every sexual act. And right now, a thin sheet of sweat was slowly covering your body.
“Aaron– sir–” you whimpered once more, unknowingly bucking your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “What… what are you doing?”
He let out a deep groan. “You look so sweet sleeping, angel… couldn’t… help myself…”
“Feels so good…” you mewled in return, feeling your dripping cunt clenching in pure desperation for something to fill it up.
The sensation was new and overwhelming. One of Aaron’s big and calloused hands was kneading your breast, pinching your sensitive and taut nipple every now and then. While his mouth was just as busy— his tongue more so; sucking and nibbling, and biting your nipple as his cock slid through the folds of your dripping pussy.
A growl rumbled through his chest.
“Can... can I slide in the tip…” he whispered in a gruff and breathy voice. It sounded vulnerable and demanding, and desperate at the same time. “Just the tip, angel. Hm? Just the tip, I promise...”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping both of his strong arms propped at either side of your smaller frame. “Just the tip…”
“Fucking hell…” you heard him murmur as he lined the head of his big cock against the entrance of your fluttering cunt. “This is so wrong, angel, but fuck… I never wanted to ruin anyone so badly until you.”
“S-sir…”
His teeth sank lightly at the curve of your collarbone. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, you hear me? I want my cum dripping out of your tight cunt.”
You shivered at the vulgarity of his words. Maybe it was forbidden. Maybe this was wrong. Maybe this will not end up well. But maybe this is the reason why you can’t seem to get enough of it, of his warmth, and his cock ramming in and out of you.
“Aa- Sir!” you screamed loudly, dragging your nails along his arms, your toes curling in pure, white-hot pleasure.
Aaron peppered your cheeks, your lips, and your forehead with light kisses, murmuring his quiet apologies as he forced his big cock inside of you. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, angel… I’m sorry…”
His promise now long forgotten as you felt the intoxicating burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt. You should’ve known better than to believe his promise. 
“You look so good like this, gorgeous…” he whispered in your ear, his big hands roaming your body as if memorizing every corner of it. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Is this why you kept texting me? Can’t get enough of my big cock, little girl?”
You nodded abstractedly. “M-missed you… I missed this…”
Aaron’s lips tugged to a menacing smirk.
“Is my innocent angel turning into a dirty whore?” he taunted, halting his movement. You could feel his hard cock throbbing inside you, rubbing your walls just right. And when you didn’t answer his question, you felt a sharp slap at the side of your thigh. “Answer me, baby. Are you my whore now?”
“Yes, sir… yes… only for you…” unshed tears stung the corner of your eyes.
“Tell me how bad you want it, angel...” he sounded mocking, his voice light with arousal. “Beg for my cock— no, no, no. Don’t you fucking dare look away.”
You shook your head weakly. “D-daddy…”
A high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt him slowly dragging his cock out of you. Tears rolled down your cheeks in humiliation. Your legs clung to the back of his thighs in a desperate attempt, locking him in place. Aaron even had the nerve to chuckle as he saw your tears streaming down your pretty face.
“P-please… please… sir…” you said breathlessly. “I want your big cock, sir. Please… please fill me up with your cum…”
Aaron’s cock pulsated against your walls as he heard your words, your voice as sweet and gentle as he first heard it. He clenched his jaw and whispered tauntingly. “Yeah? Is that all you can say, angel?”
“I need it, please… Aaron… Sir… please… I’m a good girl…”
“Are you?” he perked one of his thick eyebrows before ramming his cock inside you once again, hitting a spot so deep you rolled your eyes.
“I- I am…” you nodded frantically, taking a fistful of the sheet in your hands. “I waited for you, sir. Only you. Your big cock… only you, Aaron…”
“Did you touch yourself while I’m away?”
You tried closing your thighs a little as you felt his thumb pressing light circles on your swollen clit. “I- I did, sir. Yes- I thought about your cock… I want your cock so bad…”
“And what did you think about, little girl?” he grunted, pounding his cock slowly and shallowly, his thumb still rubbing your sensitive nub.
Your legs shook as you felt your incoming orgasm. “How good you fuck me. Your cum inside m-me… I always dream of it, sir… before I go to bed… I always want to hear your voice.”
Aaron’s thick eyebrows tugged together as his focus narrowed down on giving you pleasure. His cock continued assaulting your warm cunt, hissing and grunting every time you clench deliciously around his cock. The sound of your loud moan and his heavy breaths intertwined together, your eyes rolling back with the intense pleasure of your upcoming orgasm.
“Please, please… sir, please… make me cum…” you whispered hoarsely, your voice full of desperation. “So close. ‘M so close.”
“Yeah, little girl? Cum for me, then…” his thrust became even more vigorous, firmer. “Show me how good girl you are, baby. Go on, angel.”
“Aaron!” his name came out a scream. “I’m coming! I’m com–”
Your vision blurred out as intensely your orgasm ripped through every fiber of your being. Your legs trembled and clamped shut, making Aaron growl in the tightness of your cunt. It took him all the self-control not to cum then and there; seeing the pleasure on your face, the tears on your cheeks, your beautiful lips hanging in a silent scream.
Fuck. 
He’d go to hell for corrupting the innocent girl you once were.
“Sir…” you whispered weakly, your voice spent and quiet.
But Aaron paid you no mind. He hasn’t come yet. And he had no plan on letting you go after just one orgasm.  He wants to ruin you. To take over your being. He wants you to realize that he has all the control. He owns you, from the very first day he laid eyes on you, to the very first night you spent together. When you desperately opened your legs for him, you were his. He owned you since then and he can do everything he pleases.
Effortlessly, he pulled you up and switched your positions. He was now lying on his back, his piercing eyes focused on you as you scrambled to find your position on his lap, your legs still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm.
“I haven’t cum yet, little girl.”
You nodded quickly, understanding just well what he meant by that, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. “Yes, sir…”
“Make me proud, angel. Show me how good of a whore you are.”
Aaron let out a loud hiss as you lined the head of his leaking cock on your wet entrance, fluttering in anticipation as it welcome the familiar stretch. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling your inner thigh wet with arousal and your release, and all Aaron could do was shiver as he felt the wetness the moment you fully sank down his cock.
With your palms resting on the soft surface of his stomach, you forced your legs to bounce up and down his hairy cock. Every once and a while, you’d clench around his girth unconsciously, which only made Aaron shut his eyes and pound into you harshly.
You moaned loudly, meeting the way his hips desperately chases yours. “Ah! Ah, s-sir!”
“You feel so good… so w-warm..” he mumbled dazedly, wetting his lips with his eyes closed. “This cunt’s heaven, baby. Fuck. You’ll send me to hell— fucking hell! Yes, clench that pussy tighter, angel! Fuck, I’m coming!”
You bounced even more desperately, fueled by his moaning, and his heavy breathing. The hoarness of his voice, the way the veins in his strong arms popped out, and how his big hands gripped your hips so tightly it left red, angry marks.
He fucked into you like you’re nothing but a fucktoy. Like you’re something he can discard— like you’re something he will discard the moment he reaches his high. And you’d be lying to say you don’t find that idea hot.
You clenched your cunt tighter, holding his hands that were wrapped around your hips.
“A-Aaron! S-sir! Ah!” his cock found the spot only he can reach. “I’m coming again, sir! D-daddy! Ah! Aaron, please, more! Fuck me harder, daddy!”
Aaron didn’t say anything but a loud growl rumbled through his chest. His chest heaving in sharp, restrained breaths.
“God, angel…” he rasped quietly.
A strangled sound of what seemed like your name escaped his lips. You let him take over, let him ruin you the way he wanted, his hand firm on your hips as he fucked into you. And the moment you felt his hips stutter, warm ropes finally spilled inside you; his big cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep into your willing cunt.
You heaved a sigh of satisfaction, tossing your head back with your eyes closed, feeling perfectly sated and elated at the moment.
If this is heaven, you will never, ever come down.
Even if it means you would beg God to forgive you.
As always, replies, likes, reblogs- everything is highly appreciated! I'm only planning on writing 5 chapters for this series. And please be aware that I'm not promising any happy ending. This will end up in angst unless something changes my mind. Also, listen to Lana's Gods & Monsters and feel the vibe of this series! Have a good day and drink your water! <3
Tag list: @downbad4reid, @readergf, @urbrazysimp, @roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl, @yiiiikesmish, @luv-unknwn, @thatonepersononline, @ilikwgirls, @ssamorganhotchner, @antonia29, @fandomtookoverlife, @hotchnerwife, @wandererseye, @marisamarisa @l0kilaufeys0n7, @promptly-mercy
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goldfades · 1 year ago
Text
✮ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬), trevor zegras
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♡ ─ word count | 16.3k words (y'all asked for it!)
♡ ─ summary | trevor had always hated your guts. you never knew what for, maybe it was your close friendship with his best friend, or maybe it was because he was jealous of you. that was until, he kissed you, of course.
♡ ─ warnings | very much unedited (i don't got time for that🙅🏻‍♀️) enemies to fwb, alex being collateral LMAO, more plot than smut, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering (lots of it), so much fighting and arguing, usual enemies to lovers stuff, cursing and maybe some other things?? as always lmk if i missed anything
♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe
♡ ─ ev's notes | the long awaited trevor zegras fwb fic i've been teasing for the past 4 months, it's finally here. i finally got the motivation to finish and here we are, i hope it exceeds y'alls expectations!!! also if yall couldn't tell i didn't know what to title this but whatever, live laugh love! anyways, this isn't exactly 'canon' (my god... can't believe i just used that for a hockey fic im dead) because i know alex/trevor do not live together but for the sake of the fic, live with it. anyways, this is just brainrot for the part, but i hope you enjoy this incredibly self indulgent fic!!!!!!!! love you all mwah mwah mwah
also... requests are open for now if y'all wanna send in some ideas!!
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The first moment that Trevor locked eyes with you, he knew he didn't like you.
You never understood why. You couldn't help but wonder what had caused such an immediate dislike. Was it something about your appearance, your demeanor, or just a gut feeling he couldn't shake? Whatever it was, it hung between you two like an invisible barrier, making the atmosphere uncomfortable whenever you two were in the room and it was even harder because you shared a best friend.
You walked into the familiar home of your close friend, Alex and tried to find him. You had left your airpods there a few nights ago and this was the only time you knew he'd be home.
Well, apparently you were wrong because he wasn't anywhere to be found even though his car was clearly in the driveway.
"Alex? Are you here?" You quietly called out, there was no response, so you ventured further into the house, your footsteps echoing in the silence.
Determined to find both your airpods and an explanation for the eerie quiet, you walked further into the house. Each step echoed through the hallway as you walked.
As you turned in the hallway, you let out a loud yelp when you bumped into someone. Someone who clearly wasn't Alex.
"Jesus!" You jumped in fright and calmed down for a second once you recognized the face. "Trevor? What are you doing here?”
Trevor's expression remained as annoyed as ever, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as well. "I could ask you the same thing," Trevor replied, his voice cool and measured. His arms were crossed, and he leaned casually against the hallway wall, as if he had every right to be here.
You tried to stay calm even though his arrogance, as usual, was pissing you off. "I came to pick up my airpods because I left them here a few nights ago, and Alex said he'd be home today."
Trevor rolled his eyes in annoyance as he leaned off the wall and walked closer to you. "Well he isn't here, is he?"
You wanted to slap that stupid know-it-all expression right off his face as he walked past you. You turned around and scoffed, "And why are you here?"
He turned around and looked you directly in the eye. "I'm staying with Alex for a bit." He said simply as he examined your annoyed expression. "What? You have a problem with that, princess?" The nickname rolled off his tongue and you felt your body heat up with anger.
Trevor's use of the nickname "princess" sent a surge of anger coursing through you. You could feel your face flush, and your fists involuntarily clenched at your sides. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and it was infuriating.
"Don't call me that," you snapped, your voice tinged with irritation. "And yes, Trevor, I do have a problem with it. You've made it pretty clear you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you either. This is supposed to be Alex's place, and now I have to deal with you too? Just great."
Trevor's smirk seemed to grow wider, as if your anger was exactly what he wanted. "Well, princess," he taunted, emphasizing the nickname, "I don’t care about how you feel about me staying here so… I don’t know what to tell you.”
With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the house, leaving Trevor and your airpods behind. Your heart was still pounding with anger as you made your way down the driveway.
──
"I don't know why he hates me, Alex." You complained through the phone as you got ready for a party. It was Friday night you wanted to get absolutely wrecked after the week you've had.
"He doesn't hate you, Y/N-"
He was cut off by a scoff as you put on your makeup. "Are you seriously trying to say that he likes me?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay, maybe 'like' is a strong word, but I don't think he hates you either. He's just... Trevor, you know?"
You rolled your eyes at the mention of Trevor's name. "Yeah, 'just Trevor' is the problem. Every time we're in the same room, it's like he's actively looking for reasons to annoy me."
"That's just Trevor, though." Alex tried to reassure you but he was plain wrong. The Trevor that everyone else knew was funny and sweet, and what do you get? An absolute fucking asshole whose sole purpose to annoy the hell out of you.
Alex's attempt at reassurance didn't help at all, you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, Alex. It's just hard to believe it's just Trevor when he acts different when I'm not around, you know?"
You could hear the sympathy in Alex's voice as he responded, "I get it, Y/N. But maybe there's more to it than meets the eye. Sometimes people have their reasons for acting a certain way."
He sounded like a dad lecturing their kid as you let out another sigh. But you had to admit there was some truth to it, though.
"Look," Alex continued, "I'll talk to him, okay? Maybe he doesn't even realize how much he's getting under your skin. And besides, it's Friday night. Let's focus on having a good time at the party and worry about Trevor another day, alright?"
You couldn't help but smile at Alex's support. "Yeah, I guess you're right Alex. Fine, I won't think about him anymore but I'll see you at the party."
With renewed semi-determination to enjoy the evening, you said your goodbyes and finished getting ready for the party, hoping that this night out would provide the much-needed break you deserved.
──
The loud music of the party made your head buzz but it was exactly what you needed after the week you've had. The loud atmosphere, with people dancing and laughing, created a welcome distraction from your problems.
You grabbed a drink and joined your friends who were currently sitting outside, enjoying the warm summer weather. As you settled into a chair, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The cool breeze and the sounds of laughter around you were a soothing contrast to the intensity of the party inside.
"You good, Y/N?" You heard your friend laugh next to you as a smile engulfed your face. The alcohol was already working as you let out a giggle and a nod.
And just as you finally got the buzz, it quickly faded as you heard his voice behind you.
"Yeah, you good, Y/N?" The mocking tone in the voice was unmistakable as you turned to see Trevor taking a seat across from you. Alex followed closely, sitting down next to Trevor.
"Hey, Y/N." Alex gave you a soft smile but his eyes were pleading with you to not start anything now.
"Yeah, I'm good," you replied, your voice carrying a tinge of annoyance. You then turned your attention to Alex, who offered a soft smile but communicated his silent plea for you to avoid riling Trevor up.
Trevor, seemingly unable to resist provoking you, leaned in closer. "So, Y/N, having a good time? Or is the buzz from all that alcohol making you forget how much you can't stand me?"
You clenched your jaw, your patience wearing thin. "Oh I haven't forgotten, trust me. Trevor, can't you just for once not be a complete dick?"
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, Y/N, where's your sense of humor? It's just a party."
That last line really made your anger flare up even more. The irritation in your voice apparent as you retorted, "You know, Trevor, you seem to have a real talent for ruining a good time."
Trevor smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "Oh, really? I thought I was just making it more interesting."
Your friends were exchanging glances before Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the growing tension. He tried to intervene, "Come on, guys, let's not—"
But you weren't in the mood to back down. "Interesting, huh? More like insufferable."
Trevor leaned in, his tone mocking. "Is that so? You don't have to stick around if you can't handle it, princess."
The nickname made your temper grow, as you shot back, "I can handle it just fine, and you can't tell me what to do, I'll stick around if I want, Trevor."
Trevor's smirk remained firmly in place as he replied, "Well, well, someone's got some fight in them tonight."
Alex, growing concerned about the direction of the conversation, spoke up again, his voice pleading, "Come on, guys, can we please just have a good time tonight? This isn't the place for this."
But your anger at Trevor's provocation was hard to contain, and you answered, "Maybe Trevor should learn to behave himself."
Trevor, not one to let a challenge go unanswered, leaned in closer and said, "Or maybe you should learn to take a joke, princess-"
The word "princess" coming from Trevor's lips felt like a taunt you couldn't let slide. "Don't call me that!"
Alex, sensing the situation escalating, pleaded once more, "Hey, Y/N let's go get some drinks and relax, okay?"
But Trevor wasn't backing down, his smirk darkening. "Oh, of course Alex would step in now. You gonna go get some drinks with your boyfriend, huh?"
His accusation left you stunned as you blinked back at him, but then it clicked in your mind. Trevor's animosity seemed to be fueled by jealousy, and you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. Trevor's face twisted with annoyance at your reaction.
"Oh! I get it now," you exclaimed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "You're jealous of me!"
Trevor's annoyance only seemed to intensify, but he maintained his stubborn stance. "You wish, princess."
Your realization had struck a nerve, and you decided to tease him further. "You think I'm gonna steal Alex from you, isn't that right, Trevor?"
Trevor's face contorted with a mix of irritation and embarrassment as your words hit home. It seemed like you had touched a nerve that he hadn't expected.
"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm not jealous, and you're definitely not stealing Alex from anyone."
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying the fact that you had gotten under his skin for once. "Oh, come on, Trevor," you teased, leaning in a little closer to him. "You don't need to be jealous. There's enough of Alex to go around for both of us."
Trevor's irritation deepened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how sweet of you, Y/N. You're absolutely right; I'm sure Alex is just thrilled to have both of us fighting for his attention."
Your teasing had clearly struck a nerve, and you couldn't resist pushing the envelope a bit further. "Well, you know what they say, Trevor, 'Two's company, three's a party.'"
Trevor's face turned a deeper shade of red, and his fists clenched involuntarily. He struggled to find a retort as he seethed with frustration. "I couldn't care less about your little friendship with Alex. You're not even on my radar."
Your playful smile didn't waver as you pressed on, pushing his buttons even further. "Oh, Trevor, it's cute how you're trying so hard to convince us of that. But we all know actions speak louder than words."
Alex, sensing that Trevor was on the brink of losing his temper, interjected urgently, "Guys, seriously, let's drop it."
But it was too late. Trevor had reached his breaking point. He slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle, and his voice rose to a furious level.
"Is it impossible for you to shut the fuck up, Y/N? I've had enough of your mind games and your twisted need to be the center of attention," he seethed, his eyes burning with anger.
He got up from the couch and walked to face you, his eyes burning into yours. "I couldn't care less about your friendship with Alex or anything else about you. Just do us all a favor and stay the fuck out of my way."
As Trevor walked away, he made sure to deliver a sharp shoulder bump, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of shock and anger. The tension between you and Trevor had reached a boiling point, and it was clear that this confrontation had taken a toll on your already strained relationship.
──
A few weeks had passed since the night at the party, and you and Trevor's interactions had become less confrontational, bordering on civil. One night, you found yourself alone in Alex's house. He had gone out for the night, leaving you and Trevor in an awkward, but not entirely unfamiliar, situation. You spend most if not all your time in his house, even if you did have your own. You just always liked his more than yours, even if Trevor had decided to start living there as well. The home was eerily quiet, except for the soft hum of the city outside.
Trevor had been in the living room, watching TV while you were in the kitchen, going through the contents of the fridge trying to find a snack. You had been trying to avoid him, but the small space between the kitchen and living room made it impossible to do so that long.
As you reached for a container of leftovers, Trevor's voice suddenly cut through the silence. "Y/N, can you pass me the remote?"
You sighed inwardly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Suppressing your irritation, you handed him the remote and muttered, "Here."
But as Trevor took the remote from your hand, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through you. You both froze, locked in an moment of eye contact.
Trevor suddenly broke the eye contact and your face felt hot. You wanted to slap yourself, there was no way a two second hand-brush made you feel this way. What was wrong with you? Were you ovulating?
Trevor's voice broke the silence, low and intense. "You know, Y/N, you can be stupidly frustrating."
Your inner thoughts were interrupted by Trevor's comment, and his words only served to amplify the tension in the room. You could feel your heart pounding, and a mix of irritation and desire swirled within you.
You also couldn't get any words out and you felt even more stupid. Trevor noticed your silence and moved his gaze back to you, a smug expression etching his face. It was as if he had achieved a small victory, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to revel in it.
A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in slightly closer, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and desire. "Cat got your tongue, Y/N?" he teased, his voice dripping with cocky self-assurance.
Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and you cursed yourself for letting him get the upper hand. Trevor had a weird ability to push your buttons, and in this moment, he had successfully left you flustered and at a loss for words.
You scoffed, finally getting out of the trance he somehow got you in. "N-no, I just couldn't think of... anything worth saying."
Trevor's cocky grin only widened at your stammered response. He leaned in even closer, his breath tickling your ear as he continued to revel in his perceived victory.
"Nothing worth saying, huh?" he replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, Y/N, maybe you'll come up with something better next time."
His words made you roll your eyes as you gritted your teeth, determined not to let Trevor's cocky attitude get the best of you. You felt yourself getting even angrier as you stared at Trevor but you couldn't come up with anything to say, he has the upperhand and he knew it. You wanted to slap yourself again, you were acting dumb.
The front door had opened suddenly and you let out a relieved sigh when you heard Alex's voice ring through the apartment. The sound of Alex's voice was like a lifeline, breaking the tension that had gripped the room between you and Trevor.
"Hey, guys, I brought WingStop... Did I interrupt something?" Alex looked slightly concerned as he looked at you two.
Relieved to have a reason to shift your focus, you gave Alex a grateful smile and replied, "You didn't interrupt anything important, just the usual Trevor bullshit."
Trevor, who had been reveling in his victory moments ago, now seemed to deflate slightly at the mention of his antics being dismissed as "bullshit." He decided to play it cool, though, adding, "Yeah, bullshit."
Alex seemed to buy the explanation, though there was a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, setting the bags of WingStop on the table. "Let's eat, I'm starving. Then maybe we can watch a movie or something."
You fixed your posture as Trevor walked up from the couch, a smirk still evident on his face as he walked to the table.
"Actually guys, I have stuff to do tomorrow morning." You grabbed your purse from the couch, you didn't wanna be around Trevor right now after what the hell happened earlier. You needed to sort out a lot of stuff in your mind.
"Like what?" Alex sat down in the table, immediately taking out the wings and beginning to eat. "Are you... okay?"
"Yup, just tired."
Trevor's smirk seemed to widen, and you could practically feel his satisfaction. It was clear that he had achieved some victory in the earlier situation, and now he had the upper hand.
Alex, who had been happily digging into the wings, looked up with a curious expression as you grabbed your purse. "Y/N, are you sure you're okay?"
You managed a small smile and a nod, though you couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, just got some things to take care of. You guys enjoy the wings and the movie. I'll see you guys whenever."
With that, you hurried out of Alex's apartment, leaving behind the now weird tension between you and Trevor. As you made your way down the hallway, you couldn't help but replay the intense moment with Trevor in your mind, the mix of attraction and irritation still simmering within you.
"What'd you do, Z?" Alex gave him a glare before Trevor raised his arms up in defense.
"Nothing, I swear," he insisted, though his tone was tinged with amusement. "This time, it was all her."
Alex's glare deepened, clearly not entirely convinced by Trevor's explanation. He was well aware of the dynamics between you and Trevor and knew that things could easily escalate between the two of you.
"What do you mean, 'it was all her'?" Alex prodded further, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.
Trevor leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more relaxed. "Well, let's just say she couldn't handle a little teasing, and things got... interesting."
Alex's skepticism was replaced with a amused expression, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "What the hell do you mean, interesting? You and your teasing, Trevor. You're like a walking powder keg."
Trevor grinned, seemingly pleased with Alex's reaction. "What can I say? It keeps life entertaining for us.”
──
A few days had passed since the weird encounter between you and Trevor at Alex's apartment. The memory of that night still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel hot when you thought about it. The tension between you and Trevor remained unresolved.
One evening, Alex decided to host a small party with a few friends at his house. It was meant to be a relaxed evening of drinks and conversation, a chance to unwind and catch up. As you arrived at Alex's house, you were greeted by familiar faces and warm smiles.
You got up from your spot on the couch and entered the kitchen to get a drink. Thankfully, Trevor was still at practice so you hadn't ran into him yet. As you reached for the beer that inside the fridge, you heard Alex's voice from behind you.
"You sure you wanna be drinking tonight? You have a ride?" Alex's concerned voice made you smile and you got the beer while closing the fridge.
"Yeah, why not? I could always Uber if all of you guys are going to be drinking." Truth be told, this week wasn't exactly your week. After that whole encounter with Trevor, it had all just went downhill. You needed this, you needed a night where you could just forget about everything. And Alex's get-together did exactly that.
Alex eyed you suspiciously. "What happened with Trevor Monday night?"
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Nothing, promise."
"Did you guys kiss or something-"
"No!" You said, almost a little too loudly. A smirk grew on Alex's mouth as you repeated a little quieter, "No, what makes you say that?"
"I don't know, there was just a different kinda tension when I came into the apartment then." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm blush coming onto your cheeks.
"Shut up,"
Before Alex could continue, Trevor entered the kitchen, his exhaustion evident in his posture. You hadn't even realized he was back home; his arrival had been drowned out by the sounds in the apartment.
He walked right up to and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, you're blocking the fridge."
You bit your tongue at his lack of manners and moved away, Trevor opening the fridge as he grabbed a water. Alex gestured to the living room and you nodded, deciding to leave the kitchen to go hang out with the rest of your friends.
As Trevor walked out to the group a few minutes after you two, you could sense his irritation with the number of people in the apartment. He muttered something to Alex about the crowded space, and you couldn't help but overhear. Trevor's annoyance was evident in his voice as he complained, "There are way too many people here, man. It's like a sardine can."
"Well I told you I was gonna be havin' a few people here tonight, Z." Alex responded calmly but irritation was clear in his face.
"This is way more than a just a few people, dude. How am I supposed to relax after the shittiest practice with a bunch of people here?"
Alex looked annoyed and he just ignored Trevor, looking back at you. But you decided to speak up, not willing to let Trevor's negativity ruin the night. "Trevor, this is Alex's place, and he's doing you a favor by letting you stay here. You can't expect him to control who comes over. It's not just your apartment."
Trevor's irritation flared as he turned to you, his voice laced with frustration. "Oh, of course, the princess coming to Alex's defense. Always looking out for Alex, aren't you?"
“I'm just trying to keep the peace, Trevor. It's not about taking sides. We're all here to have a good time and you're kind of ruining it."
Trevor was glaring daggers at you, his gaze filled animosity as he looked between you and Alex.
The tension in the room was palpable, and your friends were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the heated exchange. Alex tried to intervene, saying, "Okay, let's not ruin the night with this. Trevor, relax. Y/N, thanks for looking out for me, but it's all good."
But Trevor's anger hadn't simmered down. Instead, he seemed to become more agitated, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch as he huffed and walked off to his room.
With Trevor's mood affecting the atmosphere of the party, you felt the need to step outside for some fresh air. You just couldn't comprehend Trevor. One moment, he was finally okay with you then he wanted to be an absolute dick. It always bothered you, why did he have to be such an asshole?
You were soon joined by Alex, who had sensed your discomfort and followed you outside. Alex leaned against the poll, gazing out into the night, and you stood beside him. He sighed, and you could tell he was trying to defuse this whole situation.
"Sorry about that," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Trevor's just been having a rough time lately. Practice has been pretty shitty, and it's taking a toll on him. I know he can be a pain, but he's going through a lot right now. I mean, he's worked all his life for hockey and sometimes it just doesn't give the same energy back, you know?"
As you listened to Alex as he opened up about Trevor's struggles with his hockey career, you were suddenly hit with guilty about blowing up on him. The weight of your argument with Trevor and the realization of the pressures he was under made you feel bad for earlier. Alex's words had painted a different picture of Trevor's situation, one that you hadn't fully grasped. You knew that being a pro-hockey player was demanding, and setbacks could be demoralizing.
"I didn't realize he was going through all of this," you admitted, a sense of regret in your voice. "I feel bad for being a bitch now. I should've been more understanding." You sighed. You may hate Trevor but you never wanted to add his stress, knowing how hard it is when something you put so much energy in, doesn't feel so rewarding in the end.
Alex gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Hey, don't blame yourself, Y/N. He was being an ass first and uh... thank you for defending me. I appreciate it."
You smiled at Alex's words, appreciating his understanding and grateful that he didn't hold your heated defense against Trevor against you. As you looked at him, those words felt like they had a deeper meaning than he was letting on. "Thanks, Alex. You're a true friend, ya know that?”
As you and Alex walked back to the living room, you noticed that some of the people were already in the process of saying their goodbyes and putting on their jackets. It seemed that the argument between you, Trevor, and the general tension in the room had prompted an early night for some of your friends.
"We're gonna call it a night, guys." Your friend smiled politely. "Trevor should get some sleep."
Before you could protest, Alex gave them a quick goodbye. "Yeah, they're right. He needs time to relax."
With that, they made their way to the door, leaving you, Alex, and Trevor in the home. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, and the tension from earlier still lingered. It was clear that the night hadn't gone as planned, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
You felt guilty about the entire thing, and the weight of your words hung heavy in your mind, replaying that moment. If only you had kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. The ongoing tension between you and Trevor had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and sometimes, you wished you wouldn't be so impulsive.
You couldn't help but wonder if you were too quick to react, too willing to engage in these heated exchanges with Trevor. The realization that your words might have pushed him away further gnawed at your thoughts.
You were torn between wanting to apologize and your ego. Nevertheless, as you stood in the living room, your conscience pushed you to take responsibility for your actions.
You glanced at Alex, who was busy cleaning up the remnants of the party. He seemed to be trying to maintain a positive attitude (per usual) despite the earlier disagreement. It was then that you decided you needed to make amends.
Quietly, you excused yourself from the living room and headed down the hallway to Trevor's bedroom. You felt determined as you knocked softly on the door, waiting for his response.
"Alex?" You heard Trevor's voice from behind the door. "It's fine dude, I forgive you. But ya owe me a beer next time we go out."
"Trevor? It's actually me."
There was silence for a couple seconds before you heard the bedroom unlock; and there he was, with all his glory. He was shirtless, his hair was wet and it was obvious he had just come out of the shower. The only thing he had were those slutty sweatpants, god damnit.
You couldn't help but stare a little longer at his body before finally maintaining your composure. You couldn't deny, he looked good shirtless. You squeezed your thighs together as you maintained eye-contact with him, trying to keep your composure.
"What?" Trevor's voice sounded annoyed, per usual.
You found yourself lost in a trance again, your words momentarily escaping you as you tried to gather your thoughts and confront his anger. What was up with you and not knowing how to deal with hot men?
With Trevor's anger emanating off him in waves, you forced yourself to snap out of your momentary daze. "I'm sorry," you began, your voice quiet but sincere. "I didn't mean for things to get involved like that. I know practice has been rough for you, and I shouldn't have added to your stress. It's just... I hate seeing you so worked up."
Trevor's expression remained stony, and his arms were crossed, a clear sign of his lingering irritation. "Well, you certainly didn't help."
You sighed, knowing you had to take responsibility for your part in the argument. "You're right, I shouldn't have let things escalate. But you have to understand, I was just trying to help Alex."
The anger in Trevor's eyes didn't dissipate, but there was a hint of maybe something else. "Help him with what?" He scoffed as he walked into his room, sighing angrily as you followed, your patience running out.
With a deep breath, you decided be honest with Trevor. "He told me about your struggles at practice. About how it's been hard on you. I didn't mean to throw fuel in the fire but I was just worried about both of you. I may not... like you but I don't wanna push you while you're down, y'know?"
Trevor's jaw tightened, his annoyance evident. "So, you're just meddling in my business now? Trying to be the savior?"
That was his response? Now you really wished you had gone with your ego. Your frustration flared, and you shot back, "I'm not trying to be anyone's savior. I just wanted to help, I hate seeing you two fight, and I wanted to defuse the situation. I thought I was doing the right thing."
Trevor ran a hand through his wet hair, seemingly torn between anger and something else. "Well, you didn't, Y/N. You made things worse."
In response to Trevor's accusation, your own anger flared up. "I'm trying to help, Trevor. I don't need you to be a dick about it."
Trevor's voice seethed with frustration as he fired back, "Maybe you shouldn't, Y/N! I didn't ask for your help, and I sure as fuck don't need it. You're always butting in where you don't belong."
Your anger flared, and you shot back with equal intensity, "Oh, I'm 'butting in'? You're so damn proud, Trevor, you can't accept help from anyone! You act like you're above everyone, like you're untouchable."
Trevor's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted, "You think you're so perfect, always trying to fix everything. Well, you can't fix everyone, Y/N."
"I wasn't trying to fucking fix you, Trevor, who do you think I am?!" You shouted back, anger evident in your voice and expression. You couldn't even comprehend his point of view.
Trevor's eyes blazed with anger as he took a step closer, close enough you could feel his warm and minty breath on your forehead as you looked up at him. "You think you know everything, don't you? Always playing the peacemaker, always trying to fix everything. Well, guess what, Y/N? Some things can't be fixed."
The room felt like it was on the brink of a hurricane, the air charged with anger and resentment. Trevor's chest heaved with frustration, his intense gaze locked onto yours. In a low and seething voice, he muttered, "This is pointless."
You clenched your jaw, mirroring his anger as you responded, "Fine, it is."
You both stared at each other, breathlessly. It almost felt intimidate as you gazed into each other's eyes and you could see Trevor's expression relax.
"Why are you always defending Alex?" His voice was still angry but it sounded slightly hurt, underlying... jealousy? You were confused, what did he mean by that?
Your anger had subsided, and you met Trevor's question with genuine confusion, your voice softer than before. "What do you mean, defending Alex?"
Trevor scoffed, his usual snarky self was back on. "You're like his damn lawyer or something, you always have his back. It's fucking exhausting, he's my best friend."
You understood this whole issue now. "I know he's your best friend. I get that, okay? I'm not trying to steal him from you, he's your best friend and I get that-"
"It's not about that!" He raised his voice, frustrated. He sighed as he shook his face, staring back you. You were confused as you stared back at him. As his gaze suddenly softened, it clicked.
He wasn't jealous of you, he was jealous of Alex. It seemed to have clicked in Trevor's head too, his deep blue eyes gazing deeply into yours. And before you knew it, his lips clashed into yours. You kissed him back, moaning into the roughness of the kiss.
He didn't give you any time to adjust to any of it, he hand laced around your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. His tongue quickly invaded your mouth, exploring everything.
He broke the kiss for a second, looking into your eyes for confirmation. "Y/N?"
You couldn't even form any words, that kiss, even though it had lasted mere seconds felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn't even form words anymore, your brain had become mush. God damnit, the fucking spell this man had you under.
A smirk stretched Trevor's face as he stared into your lustful eyes, he couldn't help it. He pulled you into another quick kiss before pushing you down on to the bed and quickly followed on top of you, as the bed squeaked under you and Trevor's weight. His hand rose from your neck to your face, gripping it harshly as he squeezed.
"You run your mouth all day long and now you can't say a single word." The smirk was still evident on his face, he looked proud as he stared down at you. "And all I had to do was kiss you stupid, huh?"
"Trevor," you whimpered out. You couldn't even think straight but you did feel stupid, how could one kiss make you feel this way?
"What?" He sounded annoyed but you could tell he was enjoying having control over you. "What do you need, princess?"
You hadn't heard that irritating nickname in a while and usually, you would get mad. But this time, the nickname went right down to your pussy. You let out a soft moan at that, as he squeezed your face again.
"Thought you hated that, princess? Hmm? You like it now?" Trevor moved closer to you, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. His hand moved back to your neck, holding you in place. "I asked you a question, can you answer it for me or did I already break you?" His smirk grew at the last statement, the idea of breaking you made his cock grow a little harder.
You felt it, too. Right on your stomach too, which made you squirm under his weight. "Trevor, please."
"Trevor, please. What?" He mocked you, making you sigh exasperatingly. He rocked his hips against your stomach unexpectedly, making you let out a shocked moan.
"Fuck, Trevor."
"You need me to fuck you, huh?"
That was definitely not what you meant, but you'll take it. "Yes, please. I need you, please."
"Hm, so polite. You really are a princess huh, pretty girl?" He brought his other hand to move your hair out of your face, so he could so you better. He cupped your cheek next, grabbing your face before kissing you again.
Trevor got off of you, lying next to you. You were confused and were about to protest until he placed his hand right on your stomach, making you go still. He then sat up, pulling your shorts right off, your underwear next.
You felt self-conscious until you saw Trevor's face. You could tell now, Trevor was the one in the trance, he looked like he was in awe. He then moved his hands to your shirt, discarding it along with your pants.
He placed his hand right on top of your stomach and you felt yourself get even hotter from his touch. He moved his hand lower and cupped your bare cunt, you let out a breath. Trevor looked focused as he started moving his hand against your cunt, making you whimper.
He moved his hand then inserted a finger, making you shiver. You were surprised at the sudden pressure and let out a small gasp. Trevor smirked from next to you, as he began to thrust his finger in and out of you.
You couldn't let out any words, only pathetic sounds. The thought of Alex being in the next room was quickly disregarded as Trevor began to quicken his speed, making your whole body feel like it's been lit on fire.
Your back arched at the new feeling, your head suddenly felt like you were on a roller coaster, you were dizzy on his single finger. The tight sensation began to form in your stomach and you were breathing heavily, losing yourself in the feeling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Right as you were about to cum, his finger left your wet cunt. You let out a cry of displease as you looked up at Trevor, a smirk evident on his face. "I want you to cum on my cock, understand princess?"
You let out a whimper of agreement. You weren't thinking straight at the moment, all you could think of is finally cumming and cumming on Trevor's dick.
Before you knew it, Trevor was on top of you. He took out his hard cock out of his pants, his expression changing to one of desperation and lust. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration, as he gave his cock a few pumps. His cock was already leaking of pre-cum as he slowly inserted himself in you.
Now, this was a new sensation. You couldn't help but arch at the feeling. If you thought you couldn't get any more drunk on Trevor, you were completely fucking wrong. His dick felt unreal, even if he was only a quarter inside of you. You moved your hand to grip his arm, trying to settle yourself.
He bottomed you out as quick as he could, you felt filled to the brim in the best way. The sensation burned as he stretched you out, it had been a while since you'd been intimate with anyone. It felt so good, your mouth hung open as Trevor put his hands on your hips.
"Fuck, baby you feel so good." He groaned in your ear as you let out a small string of whimpers. Trevor felt light-headed from how good you felt; so warm, so tight, so wet, your pussy was made for him.
He began rocking his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. You began moaning, not being able to hold it back. Trevor's hand immediately clasped your mouth to shut up, "Shh, princess. Gotta be quiet."
Trevor was having a problem staying quiet too, desperate sounds leaving his moans as he kept thrusting into and out of your core. He moved one of his hand up to grip your throat. The added sensation made a knot form in your sensation, you were close.
You started bucking your hips to meet his own, causing a new rhythm. You gripped the sheets as you felt yourself come closer to the climax. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum." You rambled in Trevor's ear, whimpering.
"Fuck me too baby, hold on." He choked out. Your pussy sucked him in so well, making it harder for him to even breath. His thoughts were consumed completely of how good he was feeling right now. "Let's cum together, kay?"
All you could do was nod as you couldn't even comprehend anything that was happening expect the fact you needed to cum, that knot was so closing to snapping. You felt your heartbeat race as the bed creaked underneath you two.
The knot was so thin, so close. And it snapped almost immediately as Trevor started rubbing your clit along with his harsh thrusts. "Fuck!" You cried out. You let out a breath of utter bliss as Trevor soon came undone inside of you.
As Trevor came, he immediately came down from the high and he realized exactly what had happened. He had just fucked the girl he swore up and down he would never ever like. And the worst part was he wasn't even mad about it.
──
"Y/N?" Alex repeats as you finally zone back again. You were at a brunch with Alex after a few days without seeing him. Which also meant it had been a few days since you had seen Trevor, giving you a lot of clarity about exactly what had happened.
"Yep, yep. I'm listening, sorry. I have a caffeine headache." You replied softly as you looked down at your plate, taking a bite of your food.
Alex wasn't convinced though as he looked at you, clearly trying to read you. He knew something was up with you ever since the party but he couldn't piece it together, thankfully. He still doesn't know that you and Trevor hooked up that night.
"What's been up with you?" He asked, concern etched across his face as he probed for answers.
"Sorry, it's just been a long week," you reply, attempting to divert his attention. You take a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help you shake off the residual effects of the headache.
Alex leans back in his chair, eyeing you with concern. "You sure that's all it is? You've been kind of... distant for past couple days."
"Yeah, just school and work stuff, you know?" you reply vaguely, avoiding eye contact.
He narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your explanation. "Come on, Y/N, we've been friends for how long? I can tell when something's bothering you. Talk to me, please."
You let out a sigh, realizing that Alex's persistence might not be easy to deflect. "Okay, fine. It's just... things have been a bit hectic lately. School and work have been piling up, you know?" Another lie. But you couldn't risk Alex finding out anything, you were scared of his reaction. It had already changed the entire dynamic between you and Trevor, you surely didn't want it to change yours and Alex's.
Alex's expression softens as he bought your white lie, and he nods understandingly. "Yeah, life can be a lot sometimes. But you know you can always talk to me, right?"
"I appreciate that. It's just been a bit overwhelming, and I'm trying to find the balance," you explain, maintaining the facade. The weight of keeping the truth hidden gnaws at you, but the fear of how Alex might react keeps you from opening up.
He leans back, a supportive look in his eyes. "I get it. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? You don't have to carry everything on your own. I'm here to help, too."
"Thanks, Alex. You means a lot to me," you say, grateful for the understanding tone in his voice. You hated the fact that because you let your stupid hormones get in way, now you had to lie to your best friend.
──
The booming music echoed through the crowded room, the beat of the music creating a chaotic sound of laughter and chatter. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. You found yourself in the middle of it all, a red cup in hand and the bright lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over everyone as Future plays through the speakers.
As the night progressed, the effects of the one too many vodka RedBulls took their toll, and you realized that getting home on your own might be more challenging than expected. With a blurry sense of responsibility, you fumble for your phone and manage to dial Alex's number: your favorite sober friend.
"Hey, Alex," you slur into the phone, trying your best to sound coherent.
"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Alex's voice, though concerned, held a hint of weariness.
"Yeah, I'm just... shitfaced right now. Can you pick me up?" You request, your words entirely slurred. Your head was aching and all wanted to do was sleep.
There's a pause on the other end. "I wish I could, Y/N, but I've got some work I need to finish tonight. I'm really sorry."
You pout, the disappointment evident in your voice. "It's fine I can call an uber. I just-"
"Wait, Trevor's here. He said he could come pick you up."
"What?" You thought out loud. Trevor hadn't spoken to you in more than two weeks and now all of a sudden he wants to come and save the day?
"No 'whats' Y/N." Alex sounded exhausted. "It's 2 am, I'm not letting you get into an uber drunk and alone. Trevor's coming right now, just hold on."
With that, you hang up and awkwardly attempt to wait for Trevor. The minutes feel like hours as you sway slightly to the music, the room spinning around you. You were getting tired as you sipped on your water as an attempt to sober up. You felt a hand grab your waist and you jumped but relaxed at the sight of Trevor behind you.
Exhaustion was clear on his face but he still somehow looked good. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but he looked amazing under the colorful lights. He steadied your shaky and drunk body as he looked down at you, concern on his face.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his expression shifting from concern to genuine worry.
"Yeah just a little... drunk." You slurred as you manage a half-smile, appreciating his presence despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.
"Yeah, I can see that." He returned your smile as you unintentionally stared at his face, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Let's get you home, okay princess?"
The nickname didn't sound so bad drunk or horny as you blinked up at him. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Trevor's hand securely on your waist, a sense of comfort and stability in the swirling chaos of the party.
The journey outside is a welcome relief from the overwhelming noise. The cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert. Trevor leads you to his car, and as you settle in, you can't help but feel a mix of gratitude for him. You look at the time, it was almost 4 in the morning and he came all the way here to get you. It wasn't even at the request of Alex, he offered.
"Thanks for coming," you mumble, your words slightly slurred.
Trevor gives you a small, understanding smile. "No problem. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely."
As Trevor drives through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the car and the motion lulls you into a drowsy state. The exhaustion from the party catches up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyelids become heavier with every passing moment.
Trevor glances over and notices your head nodding, your eyes struggling to stay open. Concerned, he reaches over to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?"
You mumble a sleepy affirmation, your voice barely audible. The comfort of the car, with the rhythmic sounds of the night, becomes too hard to resist. Slowly, your eyes flutter closed, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.
Trevor glances over again, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you've fell asleep. He adjusts his driving, making sure to navigate the roads carefully while allowing you to rest. The ride continues in a peaceful silence, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the car.
By the time Trevor arrives at your house, you're in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the ride's end. Trevor parks the car carefully, making sure to have a smooth stop. He looks over at you, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating your peaceful expression.
Trevor decides to let you sleep. He turns off the engine and steps out of the car, gently closing the door. Moving around to your side, he opens the door with a quiet creak, trying not to disturb your rest.
With great care, Trevor scoops you up in his arms, cradling you like precious cargo. The night air is cool as he carries you towards your front door. His steps are measured, ensuring each footfall is soft, not wanting to wake you from the peaceful sleep you've fallen into.
As Trevor reaches your door, he fumbles to find your keys and unlock it. The quietness of the night envelops the scene as he carries you inside, careful not to make a sound. He navigates through the somewhat familiar space of your home, finding your room and carefully putting you down the on the soft cushion of your bed.
He took off your shoes and socks, as well as your coat. He got a blanket and covered you with it carefully. Trevor then went to the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water and finding the asprin, putting them on your bedside table.
After, Trevor stands there for a moment, watching you sleep, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. With a final look, he quietly leaves the room, leaving you to continue your sleep undisturbed.
The next morning feels like waking up from a million year sleep (and not in a good way). As consciousness seeps back in, you're met with a disorienting fog, a heavy ache in your head and the lingering taste of regret. The sunlight beams through the curtains feels more intrusive than comforting, casting a harsh light on the hazy remnants of the previous night.
This happened every time you go out and drink, your hangovers are always the worst no matter how many tricks you try. You sit up, your head pounding as the memories of last night resurface. The room spins for a moment before settling into a dull ache. Glancing around, you piece together the familiar surroundings of your room, but the events of the night before remain elusive, obscured by a mental fog.
You turn your head to the bedside table and see what Trevor had left. Then everything started to piece together. The phone call, the drive home and now... he left you asprin and a bottle of water?
As you slowly sip the water and take the asprin, the disorienting fog begins to lift. The sunlight, though still unwelcome, now holds a softer glow, and the room feels less oppressive. You can't help but wonder about Trevor's motives and the reason of his actions. Is it mere kindness, or does it mean something more?
You shake your head and sigh. It's too early to be contemplating what any of it means, you're too hungover to even care. All you know is that you appreciate him for what he did last night, even if he had ghosted you for two weeks.
──
"Yeah and then she left the date right after I told her that, and she never texted me back." Alex chuckled as he leaned back more into the couch, getting more comfortable.
You and Alex laugh as he recounts a date, the casual banter lightening the mood in the room. The atmosphere feels familiar and relaxed, and you're both enjoying the comfort of the couch.
"That's rough. The classic 'reveal too much too soon' thing," you joke, a playful smile on your face. It was good to finally relax back at Alex's place without any of the Trevor shit making you uncomfortable. You were in the clear for now, you and Trevor still haven't talked about what happened a few weeks prior and it sounded like neither did Trevor and Alex.
Alex nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess I scared her off with my deep thoughts. Lesson learned, I suppose."
"Deep thoughts?" You laughed as you shook your head. "Okay Mr. Philosopher."
"That's right, Y/N. I'm not just a pretty face; I've got layers," Alex teases, giving you a mock-serious look. You let out another booming laugh, leaning back into the couch.
The door opens unexpectedly and you both look to see Trevor walking in with his gym gear. He looks tired and his eyes widen in surprise as he makes direct eye contact with you. He immediately looks away and sighs.
"Hey," Trevor greets, his voice carrying a mixture of weariness and slight annoyance.
"Hey, Trev." Alex responds, a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. The living room now feels awkward, the unspoken tension palpable.
Trevor moves further into the room, avoiding eye contact with you. "Am I interrupting something?"
Alex glances at you, and there's a moment of hesitation before he responds, "Nah, just catching up. You're not interrupting."
Trevor nods slowly, still avoiding direct eye contact with you. The weight of the unspoken tension hangs in the air, and the room now feels awkward and strained. As Trevor heads to another part of the apartment, you exchange a look with Alex, both unsure of how to navigate the unexpected encounter.
"That was awkward." Alex was the first to speak up, a little amusement in his voice. "Everything okay with you two?"
You tried your best not to show how uncomfortable that question made you feel. You had to lie to your best friend again. "Yeah, why'd you ask that?"
"I don't know, Trevor's usually more excited to be home and you guys were making pretty intense eye contact." Alex explained as he shrugged, leaning more back into the chair.
You manage a nonchalant smile, doing your best to downplay the significance of the encounter. "Probably just tired from the practice and the gym. And maybe he's hungry."
"You're right. He does get hangry." Alex muses as you let out a little chuckle. You hear the bathroom door open and there he was, an somewhat angrier expression on his face.
He sat down on the loveseat and sighs as you and Alex exchange looks. "Hey dude, you hungry?"
"Yeah." Trevor responds with a nod. "You and Y/N planning on going out to eat?" His voice carries a hint of... jealousy?
Alex rolls his eyes and sighs. "No, not just me and Y/N, I was thinking about goin' and getting something for all of us to eat."
As you sat in the middle of this situation, you felt like you were intruding. This felt a little more personal than they were both leading on.
Trevor's skeptical gaze shifts between Alex and you, and for a moment, the tension thickens. The air becomes charged with more tension, and you feel like an unwilling spectator caught in the middle of their now, weird dynamic.
Finally, Trevor breaks the silence, "Alright, fine. Whatever you're getting, make it quick. I'm starving."
As Alex heads towards the door, you and Trevor are left in an awkward silence. The weight of the unspoken tension looms, and it's clear that something beneath the surface is affecting the atmosphere.
"So..." you begin, attempting to break the awkwardness.
Trevor cuts you off with a curt nod. "Look, we need to talk about what happened."
You scoffed in annoyance. You have been trying to get in contact with him after this whole weird incident but you kept getting left on read and now he wants to act like he's the bigger person? You're not gonna let him get away with that. "Yeah, we do. Let's talk about it."
"Fine, let's talk," Trevor concedes, his eyes meeting yours with frustration.
You decide to break the ice, "Look, Trevor, I tried reaching out to you. Multiple times. You left me on read every single time."
Trevor crosses his arms defensively, his gaze avoiding yours. "I needed time to think, alright? It's not that easy."
"You could've at least told me that. Ignoring me just added more confusion to the mix," you retort, your frustration bubbling to the surface.
He rolls his eyes, dismissive, "We hooked up, Y/N. That kinda thing complicates things and I needed space to figure it out."
You shake your head, unimpressed by his justification. "Space doesn't mean ignoring someone. And, for the record, you played just as big a part in 'complicating things' as I did."
Trevor looks at you, his irritation evident in his features. His ears were turning a bright red as his eyes became solely focused on you. "I don't want to rehash this right now," he sighed. "Let's just move on and forget about it."
You're not willing to let him sweep everything under the rug so easily. Your heart raced in anger as Trevor tried to downplay this entire thing. It was pretty clear to you that this whole thing meant way more to you than him. "You don't get to decide that, Trevor. We both need to address what happened."
He huffs, clearly growing angry. "What's there to address? We hooked up, things got weird, and now we're here. End of story."
Your jaw slightly fell open, you couldn't believe he just said that. Your frustration intensifies, and you're not about to let him off the hook. "You can't just pretend like it didn't mean anything. We were somewhat friends, and now it feels like you're trying to erase that. And don't get me started on what would happen with us and Alex."
Trevor's eyes narrow at the mention of Alex. "He doesn't have anything to do with our business and if he gets mad at us for just doing that, so be it. We're adults who can make our decisions without him being angry about it."
Your frustration only grows as Trevor dismisses the impact of your actions on Alex. "We're all friends, Trevor. It's not just about us; it's about the dynamic between all three of us. You can't just sweep it under the rug and expect everything to go back to normal."
Trevor's expression tightens, and his frustration is palpable. "This is between you and me. Bringing Alex into it just complicates things for no fucking reason."
You cross your arms, unyielding. "He's part of our lives, Trevor!"
Trevor runs a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. "You act like I'm hiding something from him. We're not together, and we both know it was a mistake. So, what's there to explain?"
But you're not ready to move on. There's a lingering tension, a connection that can't be easily severed. "We can't just brush this under the rug, Trevor. Ignoring it won't make it disappear. We need to talk about it and figure out where we stand."
Trevor's expression hardens, and you can see the walls he's putting up. "I'm not gonna dissect our one-night stand and it's every little detail, Y/N. If you're looking for closure or whatever, find it elsewhere."
The blunt dismissal stings, and you find yourself growing more frustrated with every passing moment. "You can't just shut me out, Trevor. We are both friends with Alex, and we owe it to him to face the consequences of our actions."
Trevor's face contorted with anger, and he snaps back, "You act like I owe you or Alex something, Newsflash: I don't. We hooked up. Get over it."
"Okay fine. It's not like it was anything I hadn't felt before, your skills are mediocre at best." The comment slips out, and Trevor's face contorts in anger. You knew it was petty to bring the sex into it but it was worth his expression. He looked shocked as he was surprised.
He got up from the loveseat and grabbed your face. "Oh really? It didn't sound like that when we were fucking, Y/N. You were screaming so loud I'm surprised that the neighbors didn't say anything."
You knew you struck a nerve then and there and couldn't help but smirk. You held his eye contact for a few seconds before spitting out another petty remark, "Maybe I'm just a really good actress."
Trevor's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his eyes narrowing. The air between you two crackles with intensity, a strange mixture of anger and something else. "Wanna test that, princess? Let's try again and see who's right." Before you can fully register what's happening, his lips crash onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss.
It's a collision of conflicting emotions – anger, desire, frustration – all rolled into one. The kiss is both punishing and passionate, a show of the unresolved tension that has been building between you. As you respond to his unexpected move, the lines between anger and lust blur in the heat of the moment.
Time seems to freeze as you both lose yourselves in the unexpected intensity of the kiss. The room, once filled with animosity, now becomes a battlefield of unspoken emotions. The kiss is a paradox, a contradiction to the heated argument that lead to it.
His hands left your face as he move them to grip your hips, as his lips travelled down your neck as he planted wet kisses on it. You couldn't help but whimper in desire, keeping his movements slow and calculated. "You're a slut, you know that?" He whispers in your ear as he sucks right below it.
The dirty words left his mouth so smoothly you couldn't help but whimper in affirmation. You couldn't help but like it. Trevor's hand moves further south and lands right on your crotch. You let out a soft moan at that, looking to the side at Trevor's expression. He still looked frustrated as he rubbed you slowly, "You let Alex touch you like this?"
You wanted to be annoyed but he just has you such a trance, you couldn't be. You didn't know what this whole competition with Alex was, but all you know was that Trevor wanted praise. You shook your head, "Only you, Trev."
"Good." He finally unbuttoned your jeans and you felt a relief wash over you. Trevor quickly moved your jeans to down to your ankles as he felt your underwear. You felt another jolt of utter arousal hit you as he rubbed you.
"Oh fuck, Trevor." Your eyes shut as your head lolled back on the couch.
"You're so wet, princess." Trevor let out a laugh as he moved his hands. "Bet Alex couldn't make you this wet."
You shook your head in a state of deliciousness. "Only you, Trev. Please, do something."
"I don't think you deserve it though, princess. Haven't been so nice lately, huh?" He was teasing and you both knew it. You let out an exasperated sigh as you bucked your hips against his hand.
"Trevor, don't tease right now."
"I'm serious." He moved his other hand to grip your face to make you look at him. "You haven't been a good girl, princess. Causing all these problems for me, when all I've done is make you feel so good. Right?" He started rubbing you a little faster, as your eyes shut again.
You knew you were gonna regret agreeing with him later but you needed him to touch you, or you swore you were gonna explode. "Fuck. Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry just please do anything, I need you."
"Need me? Hmm?" He was having fun with this and you were tired of it. He finally moved your underwear to the side and he dipped a finger in, making you arch your back on the couch.
"Shit, Trev!"
He immediately started thrusting his finger in and out. "You're so fucking wet, princess. And I didn't even touch you until now. You're a slut for me, beneath all that anger and frustration from earlier, all you needed was another good fuck from me again, huh Y/N?"
You hated how right he was. And how good he was making you feel. He soon added another finger and that added to the pressure that was currently building in your lower stomach. It was so, so close to snapping, you were about to cum. Your whole body began shaking as you felt the wave of relief wash over you, one hand gripping his wrist and the other holding onto the couch.
Before you could process anything, Trevor pulled your jeans back up. He leaned down to your face, "Open your mouth." You did as you were told and he stuffed his fingers into your mouth. "You made a mess all over my fingers, princess. Gotta clean it up now."
You sucked his fingers clean of your arousal. Then, you heard keys and Trevor quickly pulled them out of your mouth right as Alex walked in. "Hey guys, I got Chipotle. I got your usual orders." He looked up with a smile before it fell slowly. "Um, you two okay?"
Trevor responded with a laugh, "Yup we're perfect. I gotta go to the bathroom really quick I'll be right out." He didn't spare you another glance as he sauntered back into the bathroom.
"Didn't he just take a shower?"
"Yeah, maybe he just um... needed to pee." Your legs were still shaking as you smiled up at Alex. "You uh, got some guac and chips?"
──
As the weeks passed, the dynamics between you and Trevor shifted. What started as a complicated relationship began to turn into something more. The late-night conversations grew longer, the laughter became more genuine, and the guarded walls you both had built around yourselves started to crumble. Being vulnerable became something neither of you were scared of anymore. You found solace in each other's company, sharing your thoughts, fears, and dreams.
Trevor, who was once guarded, started opening up about the pressures of his career, the expectations, and the toll it took on him. In turn, you shared your own struggles, creating a bond that turned into something more than the physical. The tension that lingered from the first night slowly dissipated, replaced by a something more.
The secrecy surrounding your relationship added an element of thrill, but it also brought uncertainty. The fear of someone finding out, especially Alex, loomed over you both. Yet, despite the complications, you found solace in each other's company. The intimacy that developed between you two went beyond the physical, and the connection deepened with each passing day. But the lingering question remained: How long could this hidden relationship last and what would be the consequences when the truth inevitably came to light?
The glow of city lights illuminated the night as Trevor and you walked side by side along a quiet street. The evening air felt cold, but the warmth between you two created a bubble that shielded you from the cold.
Trevor's hand found its way to yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a natural and familiar way. Your hands were freezing and his were warm, you felt yourself become warm by his touch. As you walked, you couldn't help but exchange playful glances and teasing smiles.
The city sounds slowly faded as you entered a little café that was a safe haven from the crispy air outside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you as you walked in.
The barista greeted you with a smile as you approached the counter. Trevor squeezed your hand gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "What do you feel like having?"
You scanned the menu, the warmth in your chest spreading as you realized how comfortable and natural this felt. "How about some hot cocoa?"
"Yeah, me too." Trevor nodded and placed the order, his hand never leaving yours.
As you waited for your drinks, you found a cozy corner booth and settled in. Trevor slid into the booth across from you, his gaze was warm. "My stomach still hurts from that ramen we had on Saturday."
You laughed at that and shook your head, "Me too. What were we thinking ordering the spiciest one on the menu?"
Trevor chuckled, his laughter echoing in the warmth of the café. "I don't know, we thought we could handle it. I don't even remember what it tasted like."
"Probably a trauma response," You joked as you smiled up at him.
Trevor shook his head, "Yeah never again."
The warm cups cradled in your hands, you took a sip of the sweet hot cocoa. "This is perfect. Thank you for indulging my sweet tooth."
Trevor grinned, his eyes sparkling with as he winked playfully. "Anything for you."
"Oh yeah?" You laughed as you shook your head.
Trevor leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Absolutely. You've got a sweet tooth, and I've got a soft spot for you."
"That was so cheesy, Trevor." You shook your head in a faux disappointed way but your heart fluttered at his words. You wanted to think logically but at this point, you couldn't. You knew you weren't dating but it felt like you were, and that was all that mattered right now.
"Yeah? Well you're blushing so I'm pretty sure it landed well, no matter how cheesy you say it was." He smirked as he drank some of his hot cocoa.
"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder playfully. "That was your goal the entire time, you're just trying to get in my pants."
He put his hands up defensively as he laughed, "You got me there, princess."
Your face was as warm as the drink in your hands as Trevor gazed back at you. "Stop looking at me like that." You whispered with a smile.
Trevor shook his head in response, "Nope." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.
──
You pulled up the blanket to cover your naked body as you let out a laugh at Trevor's joke, the warmth of your bodies leaving your entire body on fire. The glow of his bedside lamp created a cozy atmosphere, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Trevor laid beside you, a contented smile playing on his lips.
"That was a good one," you say softly, still chuckling at his stupid humor.
Trevor smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I have my moments. But hey, I've gotta keep ya entertained."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "Entertained? Is that what this is?" You gestured between the two of you.
"Of course. I'm here to provide top-tier entertainment. What else did you think this was?"
You feigned deep contemplation, tapping your chin. "Well I was hoping for a one-man show, but I guess company isn't too bad."
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed. "Oh, I see how it is. You're just here for the comedy, not the sexy company."
You chuckled, "Well, your sexy company is tolerable when you're not making terrible jokes."
Trevor placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Ouch, Y/N. My jokes are gold, and you know it."
"More like bronze," you teased, smirking.
Trevor shook his head, "I'm a comedic genius and you know it, princess."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "Genius might be pushing it a bit."
He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the ego. I really thought I was the funniest guy you knew, sweetheart."
You chuckled, "You're definitely up there, but I can't give you a big head. We wouldn't want that."
Trevor shifted closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "Nah, my head's just the right size. Wouldn't want it any other way."
Before you could respond, you heard a loud ding! coming from the bedside table. You realized it was Trevor's phone and grabbed it quickly and glancing at the screen on pure habit. Your heart dropped when you saw a girl's name with three hearts next to it, "Amber ❤️❤️❤️". You didn't recognize it and you quickly handed it to Trevor, choosing to keep quiet. You two were nothing but friends with benefits, that was it.
That realization hit you like a ton of bricks, you knew you had no right to be saying anything because neither of you even talked about wanting commitment. But the thought of him talking to other girls the same he did with you felt like betrayal, but of course he was; he was one of the biggest names in the NHL right now, who wouldn't wanna sleep with him?
Trevor took his phone from you, glancing at the screen. He quickly tapped a response, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even though you had no right to. Your heart felt like it was shattered and you suddenly felt sick. It was a stark reminder of the nature of your relationship – undefined and open.
He put his phone back on the bedside table, seemingly oblivious to the momentary discomfort that flickered across your face. "Sorry about that. Just a friend," he said casually, offering a smile.
You managed a nod, plastering on a forced smile. "No worries." Your response was short as you pulled the covers up to cover up more of your naked body, you felt more exposed than before.
He noticed the gesture and his eyebrows furrowed, "You okay?"
"Yeah, just tired. I should probably get going, I have work in the morning." You said softly, dismissing the fact you said you'd stay the night, like you usually did.
Trevor seemed confused until he looked at his phone then back at you, piecing it together. "Oh,"
You got out of the bed and put your bra and shirt back on. Trevor stayed in bed, trying to figure out what to say. Just as you were about to leave, Trevor's phone buzzed again. Another notification from the same girl probably, and you couldn't ignore the pang of hurt that struck you.
Trevor, sensing your gaze, met your eyes, his expression guarded. The unspoken tension between you two hung in the air. "Is everything okay?" He asked, shaking his head.
"Yeah, fine."
"Y/N, is this about her?" He gestured toward his phone. Before you could say anything he continued. "Come back, princess. Promise I'll stop talking to her, okay? Will that make you stop being cold?"
You hesitated, caught off guard by Trevor's unexpected offer. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own uncertainty. After a moment of silence, you sighed, relenting to the unspoken desire for clarity.
"Fine," you replied, the weight of the unspoken tension lifting slightly. You looked up at him and the curves of his lips turned up into a warm smile and it felt like he was pulling you back in. Goddamnit. You tried to be strong but even his smile made your knees buckle.
"Come here, princess." He mumbled as he opened his arms up and you sighed. You put down your bag and slowly walked back to him as he scooched so you could come.
As you nestled into the warmth of Trevor's arms, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, a mixture of comfort and uncertainty settled in. The comfort of being close to him tugged at your heart, and for a moment, it felt like the unspoken tension had given way to a silent understanding. You listened to the soft beat of his heart, and it echoed the complexities of your own feelings. Trevor's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the rhythmic gesture grounding you both in the present moment.
He moved slowly and gave you a soft kiss on your head as he muttered against your hair, "Only really want you, princess. You're the only one who could ever make me feel like this, do shit like this..."
The words hung in the air, as you stayed wrapped in his arms. You couldn't ignore the fact that, despite the uncertainties, there was a bond that he shared with you that he doesn't share with anyone else.
──
Finally, after months of living with Alex, Trevor had secured his own place. In the true nature of Alex and Trevor, they threw a housewarming party to celebrate it.
The party at Trevor's new place was in full swing. In a corner of the living room, Trevor leaned against the wall, a solo cup in hand, and surveyed the scene. His eyes found Alex across the room, engaged in a conversation with a group of people. As he caught sight of you approaching, Trevor's smile widened.
"Enjoying the party, princess?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. "Not bad, Trevor. You throw a decent party."
Alex walked over and joined the conversation, clapping Trevor on the back. "Man, this place is huge. Finally got rid of the sardine can feel, huh?"
Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, the sardine can days are over. No offense, Alex."
"None taken. It was time for a change, and I needed my own space. Plus, no more stepping on each other's toes. I can finally have as many girls over as I want." Alex joked as you rolled your eyes.
"Okay, sure Mr. Rizz right here."
"Shut up, Y/N. You're still single and I'm here with girls blowing up my phone." Alex playfully glared at you and you couldn't help but laugh. You and Trevor both exchanged a knowing glance before laughing again. It was still a secret, of course.
Trevor's gaze suddenly moved behind you and he quickly excused himself, you turned around to see the girl, Amber, from the other night. The one who he'd insisted he'd stop seeing. The only reason why you knew what she looked like was because you decided to do some investigating on his Instagram, finding her. Your face fell and you turned to Alex, excusing yourself as well to go find some drinks.
The thing was, you and Trevor weren't together. It wasn't the fact that he's still seeing her that bothered (but you would admit that it did sting a little), it was the fact that he promised to stop talking to her, it was on his own accord.
Moving through the crowd, you felt a knot form in your stomach as you sought refuge near in the kitchen. The sight of Lily's arrival stirred a bunch of emotions, each one more complex than the last. Trevor excusing himself to go talk to her only added to the discomfort.
As you busied yourself with preparing a drink, Alex joined you, sensing the shift in your mood. "Everything okay, Y/N?"
You forced a smile, attempting to downplay the situation. "Yeah, just needed a breather. Crowds, you know?"
Alex raised an eyebrow, studying your expression closely. "You sure that's all?"
"It's nothing, Alex," you reassured him, taking a sip of your drink. The burning liquid did little to soothe the brewing turmoil within.
The music throbbed in the background as you kept an eye on Trevor. His interactions with Amber seemed too friendly for someone he "stopped talking to". The promises he made echoed in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being betrayed, even if it was in a vague, unspoken way.
As you continued to observe Trevor and Amber, your internal turmoil escalated. You knew that watching wouldn't help your anxiety but you couldn't stop yourself. They laughed together, sharing inside jokes that seemed to bridge a connection beyond what you'd expected. It was a contrast to the secrecy that surrounded your interactions with Trevor, you couldn't help but feel jealous. The laughter, their shared glances, and his touches — it all played out before you like a scene from a script you hadn't been privy to. Your attempt to brush off the unease became even more challenging.
Then, he broke your final straw — he moved her chin up to look at him, like he always did with you. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot but now you've realized it may have just been a trick all along. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't just sit there and watch anymore, you had to do something. Unable to bear the sight any longer, you made your way through the crowd, determined to confront Trevor about this stupid situation.
Finally reaching Trevor, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, princess, having a good time?"
The nickname didn't feel so endearing as did it before you glanced at Amber then back at him. Your attempt to maintain composure was slipping, and you responded with a forced smile. "Can we talk?"
Trevor's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Amber before nodding. "Sure thing, Y/N."
Before you and Trevor could walk away, Amber spoke up. Sensing tension, glanced between you and Trevor before smirking. "Oh, is this your girlfriend?"
The term stung, not because you didn't want to be Trevor's girlfriend, but because it highlighted the weird nature of your connection. Before you could respond, Amber continued, her tone condescending, "Trevor, you didn't mention you had a possessive one."
You gritted your teeth, your patience waning. "I appreciate your concern, but this is between Trevor and me. You don't need to get involved."
Trevor's jaw tightened, irritation evident in his expression. "Amber, we're just figuring shit out. It's not your business."
She chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Oh, I get it. Casual fun, right?" Amber's gaze shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mockery. "Hope you're not catching feelings, sweetheart. It's not that kind of arrangement. And just remember, you have options, Trev."
The nickname rolled off her tongue perfectly as she left. As she walked away, Trevor shot her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to you.
Turning back to Trevor, you felt a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Can't believe she talked to me like that. And I can't believe you just let it happen."
Trevor looked torn, his eyes darting between you and where Lily disappeared into the crowd. "Y/N, I didn't expect her to be like that, she's sweet to me. Can we talk about this later?"
The dismissal fueled your anger. "Later? You always say later, Trevor. Do I even matter to you?"
Before he could respond, you stormed away, the weight of unspoken words heavy on your shoulders. Trevor hesitated for a moment, torn between following you and letting you go, but ultimately, he chose to chase after you, calling your name in a desperate plea.
He finally caught up, a hand grabbing your arm gently to turn you around. "Y/N, come on. Let's talk about this."
You scoffed, ripping your arm away. "Talk? You're only good at talking, Trevor. Actions? Not so much."
Trevor ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "What do you want from me, Y/N? I can't control how she acts."
"Maybe you can't control her, but you can control your own actions," you shot back, the anger bubbling over. "You promised, Trevor. You promised me you'd stop talking to her."
He sighed, looking exasperated. "I said I would talk to her. I didn't know she'd act like that. Can we please not do this here?"
Your eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping you. "Oh, now you care about where we fight? How considerate of you."
Trevor's frustration matched yours, and he raised his voice. "I'm trying, okay? I'm dealing with a lot right now."
"Yeah, well, so am I," you retorted, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. The emotions that had been brewing for weeks finally reached a boiling point. "I can't keep doing this, Trevor. I can't keep pretending like everything's fine when it's not."
Trevor's frustration boiled over as he snapped back, "Oh, don't act like you're innocent in all of this, Y/N. You're the one who can't make up your damn mind. One minute, you're all over me, and the next, you're acting like I'm a stranger."
You glared at him, the hurt evident in your eyes. "Maybe I wouldn't be so confused if you actually communicated instead of leaving me in the dark all the time. And don't even get me started on your promises."
He rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. "Promises? What are we, teenagers? Get over yourself, Y/N. This isn't some fucking fairy tale, people are gonna break some promises sometimes."
Your jaw tightened, and you shot back, "At least I'm not playing games with people's feelings. You know, it's not that hard to be a decent human being, Trevor."
Trevor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, the venom in his voice palpable. "You act like you're some hotshot, like you have it all figured out, you're just as lost as the rest of us. Maybe you should stop pretending like you have your shit together because I know you don't."
You couldn't believe he had went that low. Your chest tightened with anger, "At least I'm not relying on empty hookups to fill the void, Trevor. Maybe if you faced your issues instead of drowning them in whatever girl you find next, you wouldn't be such a fucking mess all the time."
Trevor's face contorted with rage, his usual composed demeanor crumbling. "And what about you, huh? Always trying to fix everyone else's problems. Maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and realize you can't fix everything."
The words hung in the air, each one sharper than a blade. The pain they carried cut through the lingering tension, leaving you stunned. Trevor, realizing the meaning of his words, took a step forward, a desperate urgency in his eyes.
"Y/N, wait, I didn't mean—"
But you had heard enough. The realization that he had crossed a line, spoken words that couldn't be unsaid, fueled your resolve. You turned away, your footsteps quickening as you tried to distance yourself from the searing pain in his words.
Trevor stumbled out an apology, the desperation in his voice growing, "Wait, I take it back. Y/N, please, don't go. I didn't mean any of that."
With each step away from him, the sounds of the party became muffled, as if the world outside your fractured bubble was moving on without you. Trevor called your name one last time, his voice a desperate plea, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn back.
He turned around and saw the last person he'd thought was overhearring them. "Fuck, Alex. You scared me-"
"You and Y/N were hooking up this entire time?" Alex spat, anger in his voice. Trevor hadn't seen him this livid in his entire life. "I should've known, and I should've told her it's a bad idea. And now she's crying because of you, Trevor. Great move, buddy."
Trevor's annoyance flared, "Alex, this is none of your business. Stay out of it."
But Alex wasn't backing down. "None of my business? She's my best friend, Trevor. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate that you're the one causing it."
"Cut the "best friend" bullshit, we all know you fucking like her!" Trevor yelled. He was so close to spilling over the edge, this was supposed to be a fun party but now it's turning into a mess. "And you're too fucking jealous to admit it. And here's the thing, buddy, she'll never see as more than a brother figure, so find yourself someone else."
Alex's eyes widened, disbelief and even more anger merging on his face. "You think this is about jealousy? Trevor, you're so fucking blind. I care about her well-being, not some weird possessiveness shit. Unlike you, I don't treat people as disposable, and I sure as hell don't manipulate them into some fucked up games."
Trevor's frustration boiled over. "You don't understand a fucking thing. She's not your responsibility, and you're not her savior. Stop pretending like you know what's best for her."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "You're right. I don't know what's best for her. But I know what's not, and that's you, Trevor. If this is the person you've become, then-"
Trevor, feeling the weight of the accusations and the tension in the room, snapped, "You know what, Alex? She's mine. Got it? Mine. And you need to accept that."
Alex's eyes widened, pure anger on his face. "What did you just say?"
Trevor's face contorted with a bitter smirk. "You heard me. She's mine. You've always been in the way, and now she sees it too. So, back off, buddy, She doesn't need you."
The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Alex, fueled by a surge of rage, responded, "You're fucking crazy if you think she's an object you can just claim. She deserves someone who treats her with respect, not someone who plays with her feelings for fun."
Trevor's eyes blazed with fury, "You have no idea what she wants. You've always been the nice guy, and nice guys finish last."
Alex scoffed and finally looked away from him, starting to walk to the door. "Yeah, fuck this I don't care. Bye, asshole."
"Oh real rich, Alex! Running off to go save the day like you always do, huh?" He yelled as Alex opened the front door. "Good luck getting outta the friendzone." Before he could walk out, Trevor grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "You'll never, ever compare to me, Alex. In any way, shape or form. Especially in that department cus we all know who does it better." With a forceful shove, Trevor sent Alex stumbling backward against the door before turning away and walking off.
Trevor needed a drink, and fast. He didn't process anything or anyone as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of vodka. He pulled out one of the shot glasses before pouring himself one, taking it quickly.
Before he could take another, someone tapped on his shoulder. "How'd it go with your little girlfriend?" Amber smirked. "Is she gone?"
Trevor couldn't even speak, he was livid. She was the reason that you had walked away from this. And he just realized that you were the best thing he'd ever have. "Oh, fuck off."
Amber looked proud as she laughed, "Don't be too sad about it, Z, you have me."
That was the last straw. "Get the fuck out."
Her face finally fell. "What-"
"You heard me. Get the fuck out," each word came out more harsh the next. "And I don't wanna ever hear from you again, got it?"
"Z, wait, no! Why are you mad-"
"Get the fuck out! Now!" Trevor finally yelled, watching her shoulders fall. She finally got the memo and sighed, walking away.
As Trevor downed another shot, he realized the gravity of the situation. He had pushed you away, hurt Alex, and now, he had to face the consequences of his actions. The alcohol burned, matching the turmoil in his mind.
Alex caught up with you just outside the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, and the weight of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders.
"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to him, and he could see the hurt in your eyes. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight and comforting embrace.
You let out a shaky breath, finding solace in the warmth of Alex's presence. His friendship had always been a source of support, and in that moment, you needed it more than ever. He didn't press you to talk; he just held you, letting you feel the reassurance of his touch.
"I can't believe he said those things," you whispered, your voice breaking as your tears stained his hoodie.
Alex sighed, rubbing your back soothingly. "Yeah, he went way too far. You don't deserve that, Y/N."
As the two of you stood there in the quiet night, the weight of Trevor's hurtful words lingered in the air. Alex's presence was the comfort you needed, though. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, helped to ease the ache that Trevor had left behind.
After a moment, you pulled back slightly, meeting Alex's gaze. There was a soft understanding between you, a connection that went beyond friendship. In that shared vulnerability, something shifted.
"I don't know what I expected," you admitted, wiping away a stray tear as you sniffled. "But I never thought he'd say those things. It's like he's a different person."
Alex nodded, a mixture of empathy and frustration in his eyes. "Sometimes people show their true colors when things get tough. And sometimes, we don't really know them as well as we think we do."
A small, sad smile played on your lips. "I thought we were... together, you know? And now it's like I never really knew him."
Alex's expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You deserve better, Y/N. You deserve someone who appreciates you for who you are, without all the drama and games."
As the words hung in the air, a new awareness passed between you. The night had unfolded in ways you hadn't anticipated, and in the quiet intimacy of that moment, something changed. The connection between you and Alex had deepened, a subtle shift that neither of you fully understood yet.
"I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it. It was a secret and I didn't want you to think differently of me." You spoke softly.
"That could never happen, Y/N." He whispered as he cupped your face slowly, as if to test the waters.
Then, without planning, both of your lips met in a gentle kiss. It was a tender touch of understanding of the pain you both felt. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a different kind of warmth. When you pulled away, uncertainty lingered in the air, but there was also a sense of relief.
──
Over the next couple months, You and Alex started dating, and everything seemed happy and content for the most part. You went on dates and built a connection that felt safe and comforting, nothing like the one you had with Trevor. However, You couldn't shake the lingering feeling that a part of you was still entwined with Trevor. You knew that it was better for you but you missed the way Trevor touched you, the way he spoke and the way he treated you (when it wasn't bad). The joy she felt with Alex was genuine, but the ghost of Trevor lingered in the shadows, casting doubt on her decisions.
You and Alex continued your relationship but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that your heart still held a significant place for Trevor. Subtle cues, unspoken glances, and the distant expression spoke volumes to him. Despite your happy moments, he sensed your mind occasionally drifting back to Trevor sometimes.
Alex grappled with the awareness that he might be a compromise, a second choice compared to the intensity and history you shared with Trevor. The quiet comparisons became a silent shadow in your relationship, and though Alex tried to provide the love and support you truly deserved, he couldn't erase the lingering presence of Trevor in your heart.
"So who's throwing this party again?" You spoke as Alex drove quietly, music softly playing in the background.
"It's Jack's place," Alex replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Should be a good time. He knows how to throw a good party."
You nodded, looking forward to a night of drinking, work hadn't been so fun and you wanted to have fun with all your friends. The car pulled up to the house, music pulsating from inside. As you stepped out, the loud atmosphere embraced you, drowning out any worries.
Amidst the loud music and the crowd, you and Alex found a space on the makeshift dance floor. The rhythm of the music pulled you closer, and soon, you were dancing together, your movements syncing effortlessly. The worries of the past seemed to fade away in the loud music, leaving only the present moment.
Alex twirled you playfully, a smile on his face, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the song shifted to a slower tempo, Alex pulled you into a gentle sway, the two of you lost in the music and each other.
The party continued around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. Alex's eyes met yours, and a warmth passed between you, the worries and comparisons faded away, leaving only the simplicity of the dance and the contentment of being in each other's company.
Everything was perfect.
Then Alex's gaze shifted behind you and suddenly his eyes hardened and he stopped swaying. You turned around to see the one person who you have spent the last 3 months trying to forget about, smirking as he watched the two of you.
"Trevor?"
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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fairene · 28 days ago
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Could you maybe do a Princess of Monaco with cl16 and they just hard launch their relationship
love your writing
whispers of the crown / cl16 x fem!reader
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warnings ⋯ social pressures, fluff, established relationship.
a/n ⋯ thought this ask was cute, thank you for sending it in! got this done in like an hour haha. hope you guys enjoy something a bit different x.
wc ⋯ 3.2k (not proofread.)
the annual monaco royal gala was a spectacle like no other—a glittering event where power and prestige mingled under the light of a thousand chandeliers. you stood at the center of it all, the princess of monaco, a title that carried the weight of centuries yet somehow felt like a cage at times.
your gown clung to you like a second skin, shimmering silk that made you feel both exposed and invincible. the whispers in the room followed your every step—admiration, envy, and just a hint of speculation. you were used to it, the silent judgment that came with your station, but tonight, something felt different.
then you saw him.
charles.
he wasn’t just another face in the crowd, not to you. his presence burned like a quiet fire, standing apart from the gilded masses. the soft tug of a smile played at the corners of his mouth when your eyes met, a secret shared between the two of you.
and just like that, the room felt smaller.
the room seemed to erupt the moment your gaze lingered on him a second too long. the whispers became a low roar, a cascade of murmurs swelling into something palpable. heads turned in unison, like waves pulled by an unseen tide.
“is that—?”
“are they—?”
questions hung in the air, unanswered but charged with electricity. the paparazzi, ever-persistent even in the gilded confines of the gala, sprang into action. camera flashes erupted like lightning, capturing every stolen glance, every subtle shift in your expression.
you felt the weight of their eyes, but it wasn’t the suffocating burden you’d expected. instead, it was exhilarating, like standing on the edge of a precipice and daring gravity to pull you in.
charles didn’t hesitate. in three deliberate strides, he was beside you, his presence anchoring you amidst the storm of attention. he offered his arm—casual, confident, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.
“shall we?” his voice was low, meant only for you, but the curve of his lips carried the slightest hint of mischief.
you took his arm without a second thought, your hand resting lightly on his. the silk of his sleeve was cool beneath your fingers, but the warmth of his touch was undeniable.
the crowd surged closer, questions shouted over the din of clicking cameras. you heard none of it. all you could focus on was the way charles guided you through the chaos, his composure steady, his movements protective without being overbearing.
“they’re going to have a field day with this,” you murmured, your lips barely moving.
“let them,” he said, his grin widening as he glanced down at you. “they’ll only see what we want them to.”
you couldn’t help but smile at that, a quiet thrill coursing through you. this was no accident. tonight was yours—yours and his. a declaration, bold and unapologetic, played out on the grandest stage imaginable.
as you walked side by side, the flashes of light and the cacophony of voices faded into the background. for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t just the princess of monaco. you were you. and you were with him.
together, you faced the world. and for once, the world didn’t feel so daunting.
the first time you met charles, it was almost laughably mundane. nothing like the grandeur of tonight, no chandeliers or cameras, just the quiet lull of waves lapping against the docks at the monaco marina. you’d slipped away from another interminable royal obligation, drawn to the water like it could somehow unmoor you from the expectations tethered to your title.
he’d been there, leaning casually against the side of a sleek yacht, his phone in hand but his attention elsewhere. you didn’t recognize him immediately—just a man with sun-kissed skin, tousled hair, and an air of ease that felt foreign to your world.
“long night?” he’d asked when your paths crossed, his voice warm and tinged with curiosity.
you’d laughed, a short, quiet thing that sounded almost foreign to your own ears. “something like that.”
he didn’t pry, didn’t ask who you were or why you were wandering the marina in an evening gown. instead, he introduced himself with a smile that was somehow both charming and disarming.
“charles,” he said, extending a hand. “you?”
you hesitated. you were so used to the weight of your name, the reactions it elicited. but with him, it didn’t feel like a weapon. “just call me…” you paused, then offered a playful smile. “whatever you want.”
that was the start of it—what you’d both come to call the in-between.
weeks turned into months of stolen moments: secret coffee dates at quiet cafés, long drives along the coast where no one would recognize you, late-night phone calls filled with quiet laughter and unspoken truths. he made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t in years, like you were more than just a title or a symbol.
but it wasn’t easy. not for him, balancing the demands of formula 1 with the secrecy of your relationship. not for you, living under the constant scrutiny of a nation that saw you as theirs. every decision you made felt weighted, every risk magnified.
“what happens if they find out?” you’d asked him one night, your voice barely above a whisper.
he’d cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady. “then they’ll know i love you. and that’s not something i’ll ever apologize for.”
you’d wanted to believe him, wanted to let his certainty wash away your doubts. but the fear lingered, the knowledge that one wrong move could unravel everything.
and yet, here you were. no more hiding, no more secrets. tonight wasn’t about fear. it was about the truth. your truth. his truth. your truth together.
the weight of your position had always been a constant in your life. every smile, every gesture, every carefully chosen word—measured, analyzed, and judged. being a princess wasn’t just about tradition; it was about maintaining a legacy, a role you hadn’t chosen but one you were expected to embrace. falling in love with someone like charles, a man so rooted in his own world of adrenaline and fame, only added to the complexity.
you often found yourself questioning the wisdom of it all. what if the people didn’t approve? what if your family didn’t understand? every time you stepped into the public eye, the fear of exposure loomed like a shadow, a reminder of how fragile this thing between you was.
charles had his own burdens. formula 1 wasn’t just a career—it was his life, his identity. every second of his day was accounted for, his performance scrutinized by millions. yet, somehow, he always found time for you.
but it wasn’t without cost. you’d seen it in the exhaustion he tried to hide, in the way his brow furrowed when his phone buzzed with another notification from his team.
“am i making this harder for you?” you’d asked once, after a particularly grueling weekend where he’d flown halfway across the world just to spend a single evening with you.
he’d looked at you like you’d said something absurd, his expression softening in a way that made your chest ache. “you make everything worth it,” he’d said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “but it’s not easy. none of this is easy.”
there were nights when the pressure seemed insurmountable, when the weight of his schedule and your obligations felt like too much to bear. you’d fight over the smallest things—not because you wanted to, but because the stress had nowhere else to go.
“you don’t get it,” you’d snapped during one particularly tense moment. “if this goes wrong, i don’t just lose you. i lose everything.”
his silence had been deafening, his jaw tight as he processed your words. but then he’d stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours.
“and what about me?” his voice was low, almost breaking. “i’ve put everything on the line for you. my time, my focus—everything i have to give. but it’s not enough unless we’re in this together.”
it was moments like those that grounded you, his raw honesty cutting through the haze of fear and doubt. he wasn’t just asking for your trust; he was offering his, unconditionally.
and maybe that’s why you’d finally decided to stop hiding. because as terrifying as the risks were, the thought of losing him—of never fully claiming this love—was even worse.
the crowd was a sea of opulence—gowns that swept the marble floors, tuxedos tailored within an inch of perfection. the gala was already alive with chatter and clinking glasses, the air thick with expectation. but when the grand doors opened and you stepped inside, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
your gown was breathtaking, a masterpiece of shimmering gold that clung to your figure like molten metal, cascading into a delicate train that followed your every step. the intricate embroidery glittered under the light, refracting like the sun catching the mediterranean waves.
and then there was charles. his sharp tuxedo was classic black, the lines crisp and clean, but it was his presence that stole the room. there was something effortless about the way he carried himself, like he belonged both on a podium and in the midst of royalty.
his hand was in yours, warm and steady, grounding you even as the room erupted.
gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers following like a tide.
“charles leclerc?”
“are they… together?”
the paparazzi didn’t hesitate. camera flashes exploded like fireworks, illuminating the space in bursts of light. it should’ve felt overwhelming, but instead, it felt like the moment you’d been holding your breath for.
charles’s hand slipped to the small of your back, a subtle but unmistakable gesture of protection and possession. his touch was light yet firm, his thumb brushing against the silk of your gown in a way that made your pulse quicken.
you glanced up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips—a smile meant only for you.
and then you smiled too, soft but resolute, your expression speaking volumes. it was a smile that said, yes, this is real. yes, i’m all in.
the crowd’s reaction was a symphony of shock and intrigue, the room buzzing with the unspoken acknowledgment that something monumental had just happened.
you let charles guide you further into the room, his confidence bolstering your own. every step you took together felt like a statement, a declaration that neither of you was willing to hide anymore.
you were tired of secrets, tired of stolen moments in the shadows. tonight, under the dazzling light of chandeliers and camera flashes, you were finally stepping into the light.
the music shifted, a slow, sultry melody filling the grand ballroom. the lights dimmed slightly, casting a golden glow over the floor as couples began to sway in time with the rhythm.
you felt charles’s hand at your back tighten gently, a silent invitation.
“dance with me,” he murmured, his voice low and close to your ear.
you hesitated for only a second, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing down on you. but when you looked up at him, his gaze was steady, a quiet reassurance that melted away your doubt.
“always,” you said softly.
he led you to the center of the floor, the crowd parting like the sea around you. the moment you stepped into his arms, the world seemed to narrow, the noise and chaos dimming until it was just the two of you.
his hand found yours, his fingers interlocking with yours in a way that felt natural, inevitable. his other hand rested against the small of your back, drawing you closer, his touch firm but reverent.
you moved together, swaying in perfect sync, his every step guiding yours. there was an ease to it, a connection that made it feel like you’d been dancing together for years.
the camera flashes didn’t stop, their bright bursts punctuating the intimate moment. you knew the photos would be everywhere by morning, headlines speculating, dissecting, scrutinizing. but for once, you didn’t care.
charles’s gaze locked onto yours, his expression soft yet intense. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.
you smiled, the kind of smile that came from somewhere deep, somewhere untouchable. “i’m better than okay.”
his lips curved in response, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there, in front of everyone. instead, he twirled you gently, spinning you out before pulling you back into his arms, closer than before.
your heart raced as you rested your head against his shoulder, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. his breath was warm against your temple, his hold on you unshakable.
around you, the flashes continued, the room abuzz with murmurs and whispers. but inside his embrace, it was quiet, the rest of the world slipping away.
“let them look,” he said, his voice a low rumble that only you could hear. “this is ours, not theirs.”
and in that moment, you believed him. because while the cameras captured the spectacle, the love between you wasn’t for show. it was real, raw, and entirely yours.
the next morning, the world woke up to you.
“princess of monaco and formula 1 star: a royal romance revealed!”“charles leclerc steals the show—and the princess’s heart!”“monaco’s golden couple: love in the spotlight.”
tabloid covers were plastered with photos of the two of you on the dance floor, his hand at your back, your gaze locked on his. social media buzzed incessantly—fans, critics, and curious onlookers dissecting every detail. your dress was trending, his smirk immortalized in a thousand tweets, and the hashtag #royalromance skyrocketed to the top of the charts.
the reactions were as varied as the people giving them.
your family was the first storm to weather. your father had called before sunrise, his tone sharp but laced with something you couldn’t quite place—concern, perhaps.
“you should have warned us,” he said, the weight of his words heavy.
“would it have changed anything?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer.
silence stretched across the line before he sighed, a long, drawn-out exhale. “he seems… respectful. we’ll discuss this further.”
charles’s world wasn’t spared either. his fans erupted in equal parts delight and heartbreak. some celebrated his happiness, their social media profiles flooded with edits of the two of you. others were less kind, their jealousy bleeding into bitter comments.
“how does he have time for this when he’s supposed to be focused on racing?” one tweet read.
but it was the people closest to you both who mattered most. his childhood friends texted him with teasing congratulations, while his team principal offered a wary but approving nod during their morning meeting.
you both found solace in the few who didn’t see you as headlines. your closest friend, charlotte, had texted a simple, “finally. you look happy.”
by the time the day faded into night, you and charles found yourselves back in the privacy of his apartment, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world.
you were curled up on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, holding you close. the television was on but muted, the images of your own faces flashing across the screen.
“we did it,” you said, your voice soft.
he tilted his head to look at you, his smile easy and warm. “we did.”
there was a moment of quiet between you, the kind that only comes after a storm. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, his presence grounding you.
“are you scared?” he asked after a while, his voice steady but filled with a quiet vulnerability.
you thought about it, letting the question settle. “a little,” you admitted. “but it’s worth it. you’re worth it.”
his grip tightened, his lips brushing against your temple. “and you’re worth everything,” he whispered.
for the first time in what felt like forever, the future didn’t feel so daunting.
the sea stretched endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of blue meeting the horizon. the yacht rocked gently beneath you, the salty breeze carrying a soothing lull. it was just the two of you, tucked away from the world, the chaos of the past few days fading into a distant memory.
you sat on the deck, the setting sun casting golden hues over everything. charles leaned back against the railing, his legs stretched out, his hand resting lightly on yours. the soft rhythm of the waves was the only sound between you, a perfect contrast to the cacophony of cameras and whispers you’d left behind.
“so,” he began, his voice breaking the quiet, “what now, princess?”
you smiled at the teasing lilt in his tone but didn’t answer right away. instead, you watched as the sun dipped lower, the colors of the sky bleeding into the water.
“everything,” you finally said, turning to meet his gaze. “whatever comes next. your races, my duties… all of it.”
his brows lifted slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “ambitious.”
“necessary,” you corrected, leaning into him. “i don’t want to live a life where we’re just managing. i want it all—with you.”
he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his touch was tender, his gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity.
“you make me believe we can have it,” he murmured. “the racing, the crazy schedules, the royal events… and somehow, still, us.”
you nodded, your fingers tracing absent patterns on the back of his hand. “because we’re worth it. and we’ll figure it out. together.”
a comfortable silence settled over you again, the kind that felt more like a promise than an absence of words. the sun had almost disappeared now, the first stars twinkling in the deepening sky.
charles shifted, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his chest. you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reminder of everything solid and real between you.
“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful, “no matter where life takes us, no matter how loud it gets out there… you’ll always be my quiet.”
you tilted your head up, your smile soft but radiant. “and you’ll always be my chaos.”
his laughter was quiet, his lips finding yours in a kiss that felt like the culmination of everything—your love, your fears, your hopes.
as the stars reflected off the calm sea, you knew, deep in your bones, that this was it. not the end of the story, but the beginning of everything that mattered. together, you’d face the chaos and carve out your quiet moments. because in each other, you’d found not just love, but a home.
and the world, for all its noise, could never take that away.
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aspenmissing · 9 days ago
Text
ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ
ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 1077 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇᴏᴜᴛ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏɪʟɪɴɢ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴘʟᴀʏꜰᴜʟ ʙᴀɴᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ
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The lab always felt alive at night. The hum of Hextech cores reverberated through the space, their blue glow casting long shadows. You had stayed late again, tinkering with a device that had consumed your thoughts for days. When Jayce and Viktor entered the room together, their opposing energies filled the space, amplifying the already electric atmosphere.
“You’re still here?” Jayce asked, leaning casually against the workbench. His smirk was the kind that sent a thrill up your spine, his presence both confident and magnetic.
“She’s dedicated,” Viktor murmured, his voice softer, but no less compelling. His golden eyes lingered on you, and the weight of his gaze was enough to make your pulse quicken.
They were both here for you, though neither would say it outright. Over the past weeks, the dynamics between the three of you had grown... complicated. Subtle touches, lingering looks, and charged silences spoke volumes, and tonight, the tension seemed to crackle in the air.
“Maybe too dedicated,” Jayce teased, stepping closer. He rested a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and warm. “You need to relax. Let us take care of this for a while.”
You glanced up at him, caught between amusement and exasperation. “I’m perfectly capable of finishing this myself.”
“We don’t doubt that,” Viktor said, his voice like velvet, as he moved to your other side. He leaned on his cane, the faint scent of metal and machine oil clinging to him. “But wouldn’t it be more efficient to... collaborate?”
The word hung in the air, its meaning layered. You turned your head, finding Viktor closer than you expected. His sharp features were illuminated by the soft glow of the Hextech core, his intensity pulling you in.
“Collaboration, huh?” you said, your voice teasing, though your heart pounded in your chest.
Jayce chuckled, low and rich. “He’s not wrong. We work better together.” He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t you think?”
Your eyes darted between them, the space suddenly too small for the three of you. Their rivalry had been palpable for weeks, but tonight, it felt like something else entirely—a challenge, a shared desire that neither wanted to admit first.
“I think you both talk too much,” you said, surprising yourself with the boldness in your tone.
Jayce’s grin widened, his fingers brushing along your jaw. “Careful. We might take that as an invitation.”
“And would that be so bad?” Viktor countered, his voice low, almost a growl.
Your breath hitched as Viktor’s hand came to rest on your lower back, his touch cool and grounding, a contrast to Jayce’s heat. They were two halves of the same coin—light and shadow, fire and ice—and you were caught in the balance.
“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Would it?”
The question was barely out of your mouth before Jayce closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as bold and passionate as he was. His hand cradled your face, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, his confidence making your knees weak.
Just as you thought you’d lose yourself completely, Viktor’s hand tightened on your waist, pulling you back slightly. When you turned, his golden eyes burned with something raw and unspoken. His kiss was different—slower, more deliberate, as if he were savoring every second. His fingers trailed up your arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake.
“I think we’ve found our synergy,” Jayce murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your skin.
Viktor chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “It seems we’re finally in agreement.”
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As the night deepened, the boundaries between you blurred. Jayce’s hands explored with the curiosity of a craftsman, his touches deliberate and confident, igniting sparks wherever they landed. Viktor’s approach was more calculated, his precision uncovering hidden vulnerabilities, drawing soft gasps from your lips.
“You’re intoxicating,” Jayce whispered, his voice rough with desire as he pressed you back against the workbench. His strength was undeniable, his presence overwhelming.
“She’s more than that,” Viktor interjected, his tone low and reverent. His hand brushed along your collarbone, his golden eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “She’s brilliance personified.”
Their words and actions left you breathless, their combined attention a force of nature that you could neither escape nor deny. The contrast between them only heightened the experience—Jayce with his unrelenting passion, Viktor with his meticulous care. They were a perfect storm, and you were caught in its eye.
“You two…” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Let us show you,” Jayce replied, his grin full of mischief. He trailed kisses along your jawline, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin.
“Or perhaps,” Viktor added, his voice like a purr as his fingers threaded through your hair, “you’ll show us.”
Time seemed to blur as the three of you explored uncharted territory, the boundaries between passion and intellect dissolving entirely. Each touch, each whispered word, was a reminder of the unique connection you shared—a fusion of fire and precision, of light and shadow.
As the night stretched on, the tension that had simmered for weeks finally reached its crescendo. The lab, once a place of innovation and creation, became the setting for something far more intimate and transformative. In that moment, you weren’t just collaborators or rivals—you were something more, something electric and undeniable.
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When the first rays of dawn broke through the windows, the three of you lay tangled together, the faint hum of the Hextech cores a soothing backdrop. Jayce’s arm was draped protectively over you, his warmth a comforting presence. Viktor’s fingers traced absent patterns along your arm, his golden eyes thoughtful as he gazed at you.
“This changes things,” you murmured, your voice soft but certain.
“Perhaps,” Viktor said, his lips curving into a small smile. “But change is not always a bad thing.”
Jayce chuckled, his voice warm and rich. “If this is what change feels like, I’m not complaining.”
You smiled, the weight of their affection and the promise of what lay ahead filling you with a sense of contentment. Together, you had created something extraordinary—not just in the lab, but in each other. And you knew, without a doubt, that this was only the beginning.
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lumiambrose · 14 days ago
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୨♡୧ Offside attraction
Michael Kaiser x reader, fluff
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Romance trope mini series - Opposites attract
To him, you shine like a shooting star. He’d do anything to have you. The only problem, you’re the daughter of one of BM’s executive sponsors who clearly states you’re off limits. 0.9k wc
C.ai bot by dolcesite, ngl this kinda turned into a forbidden romance but oh well
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The roar of the stadium was deafening, chants and cheers blurring out any audible conversation. Kaiser, out of breath, wiped the sweat from his brow as he jogged off the pitch. Bastard München had just secured another win, his goal sealing the game in the final minutes. The crowd adored him. To them, he was a star, a prodigy, a player destined to make history.
But as he scanned the stands, his sharp eyes found the only face that mattered.
You stood near the VIP box, illuminated by the late afternoon sun, a vision against the sea of waving scarves and clapping hands. He’s simply glued to the way you exist, you exuded an effortless aura, one that Kaiser can’t take his eyes off of no matter what.
To him, you weren’t just another fan or even a casual admirer. You were untouchable, a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. The child of one of the club’s top sponsors, you were as far out of reach as the moon.
Kaiser had learned early on that lines existed in football—not just on the field but in life. You were one of those lines. Explicitly off-limits by the higher-ups, you were never even supposed to cross his mind. But knowing something was forbidden only made it more irresistible.
After the match, the team celebrated in the players’ lounge, the area buzzing with energy and accomplishment. Teammates laughed, drinks were passed around, and highlights from the match looped on the TV screens. Kaiser, however, was restless. His mind wasn’t set on their victory.
When he finally stepped outside for air, the cool evening breeze hit him like a balm. He leaned against the railing overlooking the training grounds, his thoughts wandering to you. He could still picture the way your lips had curled into a faint smile when his goal hit the net, the sparkle in your eye as you clapped politely among the more raucous fans.
“Kaiser,” a voice called from behind him, soft yet firm.
He turned, and there you were, framed by the glow of the corridor lights. His pulse quickened, and he hoped the dimness masked his surprise.
“I thought I might find you out here,” you said, stepping closer.
He straightened, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you. “You’re not in the lounge?”
“It’s not really my scene,” you replied. “And I figured you’d be out here brooding instead of celebrating with your team.”
“Brooding?” He smirked, though his heart was racing. “That’s dramatic.”
You shrugged, leaning on the railing beside him. “It suits you. Lone wolf, football prodigy. I can see the headlines now.”
He chuckled softly, but the sound was short-lived. You were too close, the faint trace of your perfume making his head spin.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said finally, his voice quieter now.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
You didn’t want to answer. Instead, turning to look at the empty field below. The silence stretched, heavy with plenty unsaid.
“I watched your goal today,” you said, breaking the silence. Your voice softer now. “It was... amazing.”
“Thank you.”
Another silence. This one heavier than the last.
“I know I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you said suddenly, your eyes still fixed on the pitch. “But it feels ridiculous, doesn’t it? All these rules about who we can and can’t be around.”
“It’s not about rules,” Kaiser said, though the words felt hollow. “It’s about consequences.”
You finally turned to him, your gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Do you care about consequences?”
The question hung between you, daring him to answer.
“Yes,” he said, though the way his voice wavered betrayed him.
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving his. “I don’t think you do.”
He couldn’t breathe. You were so close now, your presence overwhelming, your gaze pulling him in like gravity. He knew he should step back, create distance, remind himself of the boundaries that existed for a reason.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. It was the smallest of touches, but it sent a shockwave through him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice rough.
“And you’re not?” you countered, your lips curving into a faint smile.
For a moment, the world around him seemed to fade—the stadium lights in the distance, the noise from the lounge, even the weight of the rules he’d spent his life following. All that remained was you, standing there, daring him to take the risk.
He lifted your hand slowly, deliberately, as if giving you time to pull away. When you didn’t, he pressed his lips to your knuckles, the kiss lingering longer than it should have.
It wasn’t just a gesture. It was a promise.
“I would do anything for you,” he said quietly, his voice low and full of conviction.
Your breath hitched, and for the first time, he saw a crack in your carefully constructed composure.
“Kaiser…” you began, but were rudely cut off by the sound of footsteps from the corridor.
You pulled your hand away, stepping back as if the distance could erase what had just happened.
“You should go,” he said, regret evident in his tone.
You nodded, your expression unreadable, and turned to leave.
As you disappeared into the building, Kaiser leaned back against the railing, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he was in too deep, way too deep to pull himself out.
Because to him, you weren’t just a forbidden line to cross. You were the only thing that made the risk worth taking.
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©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
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velarisdusk · 3 months ago
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Night's Cold Embrace
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Day 9: Dacryphilia | Rhysand x Reader word count: 2k author’s note: evil rhys makes me wet that is all ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦
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The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver slivers of light through the thick canopy of trees. The forest was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. You had needed to get away, to breathe, to think, and the woods at night had always offered solace. But tonight, the shadows seemed deeper, and the silence unnerved you in ways it never had before.
You quickened your pace, your footsteps barely audible on the soft forest floor, but the feeling of being watched clung to you like a second skin. Your heart pounded in your chest, and just as you were about to convince yourself that it was all in your head, a voice, low and smooth as velvet, cut through the quiet.
“Out here alone, are we?”
You froze, every muscle in your body tensing at the familiar voice. Slowly, you turned, and there, leaning casually against the trunk of a tree stood Rhysand. His dark clothes melted into the night, but the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable, catching the faint moonlight as he watched you with an amused, almost predatory gaze. 
You swallowed, the air suddenly feeling too thick. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was calm, though your pulse thudded in your ears, 
He pushed off the tree, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps, his presence overwhelming the space between you. “I might ask you the same thing,” he said, his tone lazy, but there was something in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Wandering the woods at night, all alone? Dangerous, don’t you think?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, though every instinct screamed at you to look away, to run. But where would you go? The woods were vast, and you knew he’d follow. “I needed to clear my head,” you said simply, trying to keep your voice steady.
Rhysand’s lips curved into a smirk, and he took another step closer, the faint scent of night-blooming flowers clinging to him, mixing with something darker, more dangerous. “And instead, you found me,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Unlucky for you, isn’t it?”
Your breath hitched, his words settling over you like a shadow, creeping into your chest and tightening your ribs. “I’ll leave,” you said, taking a step back, but Rhysand’s hand shot out, not to grab you, but to trail a finger down the side of your arm, just barely brushing your skin.
“You’re trembling,” he observed softly, his tone a dark purr. “Are you afraid?”
You flinched, concealing the shiver that threatened to run down your spine. “No,” you lied, though the slight tremor in your voice gave you away. 
Rhysand hummed, his fingers tracing the path of a tear that had fallen without you even realizing it. “Liar,” he whispered, his eyes darkening as he stared at the tear glistening on his fingertip. He seemed to pause, as if savoring the sight, before his gaze locked with yours again, more intense than before. “You are scared.”
Your chest tightened, the full weight of his attention suffocating. “I’m not scared of you,” you whispered, the words visible through the puff of your breath in the cool still night air.
Rhysand stepped closer, close enough that his breath fanned against your cheek. “No?” he murmured, brushing another tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Then why are you crying?” His thumb lingers there, then trails down slowly, grazing your lips. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured, his voice a low hum, sending an involuntary shiver through you. “It’s almost a shame to see you like this… almost.”
Your breath caught. He wasn’t just toying with you — he was feeding off this, savoring your fear like a fine wine. You tried to step back, but the tree behind you stopped you cold, your back pressed against the rough bark. “What are you–” you started, but your words faltered as Rhysand’s other hand came up to rest on the tree, caging you in.
“Shh,” he whispered, the sound almost soothing, but the heat in his gaze betrayed him. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, parting it slightly. “No need to ask, we both know you like this. I can see it all right here.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb dipping just inside your mouth, a gentle tease that sent heat pooling low in your stomach despite the panic tightening your chest.
You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress the trembling, but it only made his smile grow. 
“Don’t fight it,” he whispered, his voice dropping to something more intimate, his lips brushing just near your ear. “I like seeing you like this, trembling… vulnerable.” His fingers continued their slow exploration, skimming down your throat now, tracing the hollow of your collarbone. “It suits you.”
Your breath came out in shallow gasps as his touch continued to roam, gentle but purposeful. You should’ve pushed him away, should have said something — anything — but the weight of his power over you held you still, the darkness in his gaze drawing you in despite yourself. “Why are you doing this?” Your voice trembled, fear bleeding through every word.
Rhysand leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, teasing the air between you. “I wonder,” he started, his breath warm as it ghosted over your lips, a sharp contrast to the night’s biting chill, “just how far I can push you before you break.”
His words sent a wave of heat straight through you, the dark promise in them both terrifying and intoxicating. You hated that your body responded to him, your pulse quickening, skin tingling under his touch. It was wrong, you knew it — but with every slow brush of his fingertips, every dark murmur, the line between fear and desire blurred. 
“Where do you get off, torturing people like this?” you demanded, trying to mask the shiver in your voice. “Is this some kind of game to you?”
Rhysand chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “A game? Perhaps. But it’s one I’m quite skilled at.” He traced a slow line down your lip with his thumb, his gaze never leaving yours. “And you’re playing so beautifully, darling.”
His thumb brushed across your lips again, this time more insistently, and before you could stop yourself, your mouth parted, the pad of his thumb slipping past your lips. The taste of salt lingered from the tear he’d wiped away earlier, and you held back a groan; whether it was from the shame curling in your chest or the undeniable need spreading through you, you couldn’t tell.
Rhysand’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you, completely in control, knowing exactly how to unravel you. “Good girl,” he whispered, his voice low and mocking. His thumb withdrew from your mouth, but before you could catch your breath, his lips replaced it claiming yours in a slow, heated kiss. 
Each brush of his lips against yours made you want to recoil, to resist, but you couldn’t. The fire in your veins drowned out everything else, and the more you tried to hate it, the more your body betrayed you. Every sensation twisted, wrong yet so fucking good, and you found yourself leaning into him, kissing him back, despite everything. 
When he pulled back from the kiss, his gaze dropped to your tear-streaked face. The way his lips curled into a smirk sent another ripple of dread and heat through you. “Look at you,” he murmured, almost in awe. “Still crying.” His voice was soft, mocking, the edge of it sharp enough to cut. “You’re beautiful like this…” He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to catch another tear slipping down your cheek. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring it. Your body tensed at the feel of his tongue, so slow, so deliberate. A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, and when his eyes opened again, they were filled with something primal. “Keep doing it,” he whispered, his lips not ghosting over your cheek, licking up the next tear that spilled free. “Cry for me, pet.”
You gasped at the sensation, at the way his lips moved over your skin, as though your fear — your misery — was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. “Gods, you have no idea what it does to me,” he purred, pulling back to meet your wide-eyed gaze. His fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to hold his gaze as another tear slipped from the corner of your eye. “You don’t have to fight it, it only makes you more enticing.”
“I will not give into you, just leave me be–”
“Is that so?” He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. “Then why do you look like you’re about to melt under my touch? You may not want to admit it to yourself,” his fingers traced a slow path down your neck, each touch sparking an involuntary reaction in you, “but don’t you lie to me,” he growled. 
You clenched your jaw, trying to stay defiant, but the way he spoke, the way his fingers made contact with your skin…
“You’re twisted,” you manage, less conviction in your voice than moments ago. “This is… sick.”
Rhysand’s eyes softened just a fraction, though the predatory glint never left them. “Twisted? Maybe. But I find it quite fascinating how, despite your hatred for me, you fall into me so easily every time.” He tilted your head back slightly, making you look up at him. “It’s as though, no matter how much of a fight you put up, there’s a small part of you that’s curious.”
You felt a heat rise in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and an unfamiliar, unsettling thrill. Rhysand’s gaze was intense, his fingers lingering near your jawline, caressing your skin with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his demeanor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, though it came out weaker than you intended. More tears slid down your face and Rhysand’s eyes followed their path with wicked delight. He kissed them all away, his tongue dragging slowly across your skin, savoring the taste of it. “Let go,” he encouraged softly, his voice coaxing. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, it will feel even better if you just let yourself be overwhelmed.”
His lips returned to yours, this time with a gentler touch. You hesitated, battling your instinct to resist the rising warmth inside you. The kiss was different now, softer, and filled with a different kind of intensity that made it harder to pull away with every passing second. 
Rhysand’s hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and the softness of your hips as he pressed you against the rough bark of the tree, His touch was a mix of firm control and gentle exploration, each caress sending shivers through you. His lips parted yours, deepening the kiss with a sensual, slow burn that left you breathless. His tongue danced with yours in a languid, intoxicating rhythm, pulling you closer. 
When he finally broke away, his gaze was filled with satisfaction and something more vulnerable, almost tender. “See?” He murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not so bad to give in, is it?”
You could barely respond, the mix of emotions swirling inside you — fear, shame, desire. You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice. “This… this isn’t what I wanted.”
Rhysand’s gaze remained fixed on you, unwavering as always. “Maybe not what you planned,” he said softly, “but sometimes what we need isn’t always clear until it’s right in front of us.”
He took a step back, finally giving you a moment to catch your breath. “Think about it,” he said, his tone more contemplative now, “and if you ever find yourself wanting more… you know where to find me.”
With that, he turned and melted into the shadows of the night, leaving you alone in the cold, moonlit clearing. The lingering warmth of his touch and the haunting promise of his words left you unsettled… and oddly curious.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago
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Jealousy in Motion
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SUMMARY: Tired of waiting for Damian and Rhea to make their moves, you and Jey decide to stir things up with a little game of jealousy. What starts as harmless flirting at a club quickly turns into a night of heated glances and rising tension.
WARNINGS: Teasing, Alcohol Use
WORD COUNT: 4.9k
OTHER PART(S): PART 2
TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108
The backstage area of the arena buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—wrestlers preparing for their matches, production staff rushing around, and the distant hum of the crowd filtering in through the walls. 
You found yourself leaning against a storage crate backstage, your eyes drifting to Damian as he finished lacing his boots. The sight of him—tall, imposing, tattoos snaking across his arms and shoulders and back to his back—always sent a thrill through you. He was magnetic, and you had been caught in his orbit for months now. But as you watched him, the ache of wanting more twisted in your chest.
"Ready for tonight?" you asked your voice light, hoping to catch his attention. 
Damian looked up, his expression as casual as ever. He offered a half-smirk, nodding. “Always am. You?”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, feeling good. Maybe I’ll catch your match later, see what you beat up Dom.”
He chuckled, that deep, resonant sound that always sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, then.”
It was the same banter you’d had a hundred times. Light, playful, but never deeper. You’d heard a few people backstage gossip about how Damian seemed to have eyes for you—how he was different when you were around. But standing here now, you weren’t so sure. If he did have feelings, he never showed it in a way that mattered.
You glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then you stepped a little closer, just close enough that your arm brushed against his as you leaned in. “You know,” you started, your voice a little lower, “I’ve been thinking...”
He raised an eyebrow, his attention still on you but with the same calm, unreadable expression he always had. “About?”
You hesitated for a beat, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “About how...maybe we could hang out outside of work. You know, not just...the usual.”
There it was—your not-so-subtle hint. You felt the tension rise between you, hoping he’d finally catch on.
But Damian just chuckled again, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We hang out all the time,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms. “Just hung out with you last night, didn’t I?”
You swallowed the disappointment that settled in your stomach. Yeah, last night. When he’d snuck into your hotel room after his match, spent the night with you, and then slipped out before anyone could see. The same routine you’d been doing for three or four months. But it wasn’t enough anymore—not for you, anyway.
“Right,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “Just last night.”
You took a step back, crossing your arms as you tried to shake off the frustration that was building. Every time you hinted at the idea of something more, it was like he didn’t get it—or maybe he didn’t want to get it. And now you were starting to think that the rumors, all the whispers about him being into you, were just that: rumors.
It wasn’t that Damian wasn’t kind or caring—he was, in his own way. But you wanted more than secret rendezvous and stolen moments behind closed doors. You wanted to be his. His girlfriend. Not just the girl he came to when he needed to blow off steam.
“You know,” you started again, your voice quieter now, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your dirty little secret.”
Damian’s eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he quickly masked it with that same casual demeanor, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter. “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, offering you a grin. “You know it’s not like that.”
But you weren’t so sure anymore. You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you realized he wasn’t going to get it—not tonight, maybe not ever. “Right. It’s not like that.”
You turned away, trying to put some distance between you before the sting of rejection hit too hard. You were stuck in this endless cycle—always wanting more, always hoping he’d step up and make things real. But as the weeks that turned into months had dragged on, it was becoming painfully clear that maybe you were just the secret he kept from everyone else.
Damian stepped closer, his hand gently grazing your arm. “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. You know I care about you.”
You nodded, but the words didn’t hit the way you wanted them to. You knew he cared—but was it enough?
With one last glance at him, you gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”
But deep down, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending that was enough.
The low hum of chatter echoed through the hallway as you made your way backstage after your match. The adrenaline from the night still coursed through your veins, but it wasn’t the excitement of the crowd or the rush of getting another win that had you on edge. It was Damian. Or rather, the frustrating conversation from earlier in the evening that had been bugging you ever since.
As you turned the corner, you spotted your friend Jey Uso leaning against a crate, his eyes locked down the hall where Rhea Ripley was doing an interview with Cathy Kelly. A smirk tugged at your lips as you sauntered over, nudging him with your shoulder.
“Not gonna make your move?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Jey’s gaze didn’t leave Rhea, but he smiled, shaking his head. “Not sure she’s even noticed, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice light but tinged with frustration.
You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned beside him. “Oh, she’s noticed, trust me.”
His eyebrow arched as he glanced your way, curious. “Yeah?”
You nodded, casting a glance down the hall at Rhea, who was still mid-interview. “We’re close. You don’t even know how many times I’ve had to listen to her talk about you in the last few weeks. Pretty sure she’s more interested than you think.”
Jey’s grin widened, but it quickly faded when his eyes flicked back to Rhea. There was something vulnerable in his expression, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you or keep playing it safe. You could see why he’d hesitate; he and Rhea had been circling each other for a while now, both giving mixed signals but never making the first big move.
Just then, Rhea’s eyes darted in your direction, and for a split second, you caught the way her face changed. She’d seen you and Jey talking, standing close, and a flicker of something unmistakable flashed in her eyes—jealousy.
A slow grin spread across your face as an idea began to form. You nudged Jey again, leaning closer as you whispered, “She’s jealous.”
He blinked, his focus snapping to you. “What?”
You nodded, motioning subtly in Rhea’s direction. “She sees us talking. I know that look.”
Jey’s eyes shifted to Rhea, and when he saw the way she was glancing at the two of you between interview questions, his grin returned. “Damn, you think?”
“I know,” you said confidently, the idea cementing in your mind now. “You going out with some of the crew after the show?”
Jey smirked, standing up straighter. “You know I keep it lit on the dance floor, baby.”
You laughed at his swagger, but your mind was already spinning. This could work. This could solve both your problems. “I’ve got an idea,” you started, lowering your voice as your eyes flicked back to Rhea and then down the hall where Damian had just passed by, his attention elsewhere.
Jey tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”
You leaned closer, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “We’re gonna make them jealous. You and me. A little flirting, some dancing, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. That’ll get their attention.”
Jey’s eyebrow shot up, his smile turning more playful. “You trying to stir the pot, huh?”
“I’m trying to get Damian to step up,” you said, sighing. “He’s been...distant. Or, I don’t know, maybe just not getting the hint. But I know him. He won’t like another guy getting close to me.”
Jey chuckled, crossing his arms as he considered your plan. “And Rhea? You think she’s gonna bite?”
“Oh, she will,” you assured him. “She’s already looking over here like she’s ready to step in. Trust me, once she sees you and me getting close, she’s not gonna let it slide. She’ll make her move.”
Jey thought it over for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he glanced back toward Rhea one last time. Then he smiled, that signature confident grin of his, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. If it gets her to stop playing games, I’m in.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as your plan fell into place. “Good. Pick me up at 11. Room 4112.”
Jey nodded, flashing you a wink before turning to head off, but not before you gave him one last parting shot. “And make sure you bring your A-game, Uce. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”
He laughed over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I always do.”
As he walked away, you glanced back toward Rhea, who was still watching. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. The game had just begun, and tonight, things were finally going to get interesting.
The night air was cool as you walked side by side with Damian toward the parking lot, your boots crunching softly against the asphalt. The energy from the show still buzzed around the arena, but out here, it was quieter. Just you and him, under the soft glow of the streetlights. You glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed demeanor, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets. It should’ve been a perfect moment. But your frustration still simmered beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the limbo you were stuck in with him.
“So…” Damian started, breaking the silence, his voice low and casual. “I heard a few of the guys are heading to some bar after the show.” He glanced over at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “You wanna go?”
You almost smirked, but you caught yourself. Of course, now he wanted to hang out. Now that you were making moves to get his attention. 
Instead, you played it off, pretending to be a little caught off guard as you reached for your keys. “Oh, uh… I’m actually already going with Jey.”
Damian stopped walking for just a second, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Jey? Like… Uso?”
You nodded with a smile, keeping your tone light. “Yeah. He asked me earlier if I wanted to go with him.”
Damian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough. You caught the flicker in his eyes, something sharp and possessive flashing behind his otherwise calm exterior. Bingo. Your plan was already starting to work. But you didn’t want to push too hard too soon. You had to play this carefully.
“But maybe I’ll see you there, though?”
Damian’s jaw tightened just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”
You could see the tension in his posture now, the way his jaw clenched briefly before relaxing again. This was what you had wanted—Damian’s attention. But now that you had it, there was something almost thrilling about making him stew just a little longer.
You turned to get into your rental car, turning to give him a final smile before you closed the door. “See you later, Damian.”
He nodded again, though his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did. “Yeah. See you.”
As you pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Damian’s reaction was exactly what you had hoped for. The flash of jealousy, the uncertainty. He wasn’t oblivious anymore.
Tonight was only going to get more interesting.
You hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when your phone lit up with Rhea’s name. You smiled to yourself, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead. You had a feeling Damian had talked to Rhea and that was the reason for her call. Keeping one hand on the wheel, you tapped the screen to answer.
“Hey, Rhea. What’s up?”
“Hey,” she replied, her usual confident tone slightly off, a hint of something uncertain hiding underneath. “So, I heard a few of us are going out tonight after the show. You in?”
You bit your lip, holding back a grin. Here we go. 
“Oh, yeah, I’m going. Jey actually asked me to ride with him.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the way her brow furrowed in surprise. “Jey asked you?”
You made your voice sound casual, as if the question wasn’t loaded with the tension you knew she was feeling. “Yeah. He asked me before the show if I wanted to join him. Sounded fun, so I figured, why not?”
Rhea didn’t reply immediately, and you caught the slightest edge of jealousy creeping into her voice when she finally spoke again. “I thought you were just blowing Damian off when you said that.”
The corner of your mouth lifted as you kept your gaze on the road. “Nope, Jey actually asked me. I mean, Damian hadn’t said anything, and clubs aren’t always his thing. So I figured, why not go with someone else, right?”
You could hear her shift on the other end of the call, probably trying to find the right words to respond without giving herself away completely. “Right... I guess I just didn’t realize you two were, you know, hanging out outside of work like that.”
Your smile widened. She was trying to play it cool, but the jealousy was there, simmering just under the surface. Your plan was working, just like you hoped it would.
“Yeah, well, Jey’s seems fun to hang out with,” you said, keeping your tone as light and innocent as possible. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll see you there though?”
Rhea hesitated again, and you could hear the unspoken questions swirling in her head. “Yeah... maybe.”
You ended the call and couldn’t help but feel satisfied with how things were playing out. Damian’s possessiveness had already started to show, and now you had Rhea on edge too. The night was shaping up exactly how you planned, and it was only going to get better from here.
The thumping bass of the music hit you the moment you stepped into the club, the energy of the crowd buzzing in the air. You and Jey walked in together, fashionably late, just as you’d planned. You scanned the room, catching sight of Damian and Rhea almost immediately. They were at the bar, exactly where you hoped they’d be. Perfect.
Jey’s hand rested lightly on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd, both of you pretending not to notice the two people you were trying to get a rise out of. It was part of the plan, after all. You could feel eyes on you—probably Rhea’s, maybe even Damian’s—but you kept your focus on Jey, playing your part flawlessly.
As you reached the bar, Jey leaned in close, his voice low and playful against your ear. But also just loud enough for the two people standing next to you to hear him say it. “What you drinking tonight, baby?”
You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him as you smiled. “Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think I should start with?”
He chuckled, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he signaled the bartender. “Let’s start with something light,” he suggested, glancing down at you with a grin. “I gotta keep you in good shape for the dance floor later.”
You grin at him and pretend to reach for your purse but he reaches out and stops you. “Nah, I got you tonight, baby.”
You laughed, nudging him slightly. “You really know how to take care of a girl, Jey. That’s sweet.”
The way you said it wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t just a simple compliment, not with the way you let your fingers trail down his arm as you spoke, or the soft smile you gave him as you tilted your head just slightly, enough to let anyone watching see the ease between you two. You could feel the tension coming from behind Jey, the way Damian and Rhea were likely taking in every detail, even if they were trying to hide it.
Jey played along perfectly, his own smile widening as he leaned just a bit closer. “Sweet, huh? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
You laughed again, the sound light and easy, and let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the heat from his body through his shirt. “Maybe I am.”
As the bartender handed over your drinks, Jey slid one toward you, his fingers brushing yours. You could practically feel the weight of the stares coming from behind you, and it took everything in you not to glance back at Damian and Rhea. But you knew better than to break character now. The game had only just begun.
As you lifted your drink to your lips, you felt Jey's hand lightly graze your back again, the touch casual but deliberate enough to keep up appearances. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the buzz of the club had you feeling confident, ready for whatever came next. You tilted your head, flashing Jey a smile before turning away from the bar, deciding it was time to up the ante.
With your drink in hand, you turned to leave the bar, making sure to brush close enough to Jey that it would look as if you were moving together. As you did, you caught sight of Damian and Rhea out of the corner of your eye.
Damian’s eyes were locked on you, his brow slightly furrowed, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he watched you interact with Jey. It was subtle, but you knew Damian well enough to recognize the telltale signs of his possessiveness flaring up. You let your lips curl into a smirk, satisfaction blooming in your chest. The plan was working.
Rhea was standing next to him, drink in hand, but her expression was much less controlled. Her gaze flickered between you and Jey, and there was no mistaking the spark of jealousy in her eyes. Her lips were set in a thin line, her posture stiff as she watched you practically draped against Jey. You knew that look—she didn’t like it one bit.
You exchanged a knowing glance with Jey, and as he flashed you a grin, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.
Turning back to Jey, he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I think they’re starting to notice,” he whispered, the amusement in your tone unmistakable.
You chuckled, his hand resting on your hip as you reached up on your tip toes to reply. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”
You straightened, taking a slow sip of your drink before glancing back in Damian and Rhea’s direction, letting your gaze linger just long enough to make sure they saw. Damian’s dark eyes hadn’t left you, and Rhea’s fingers tightened around her glass as she muttered something under her breath to Damian.
Satisfied, you turned your attention back to Jey, the smirk still playing on your lips. “Looks like round one goes to us.”
Jey raised his glass in a silent toast, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”
The tension in the air was palpable now, the game in full swing. All you had to do was keep pushing the right buttons, and Damian and Rhea would break. And when they did, it was going to be so worth it.
After a few more rounds of playful banter at the bar, you felt Jey’s fingers gently brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him. His smile was easy, mischievous, as if he had something up his sleeve.
“You know what we need to do now?” he asked, his eyes glinting.
You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What’s that?”
He straightened up, looking over toward the packed dance floor, where bodies swayed and pulsed to the heavy beat of the music. “We gotta hit the dance floor. I promised you I’d keep it lit, remember?”
You bit your lip, already anticipating what was about to happen. Glancing over to where Damian and Rhea were still standing, you noticed Damian’s eyes briefly flicker in your direction before shifting away, as if he were doing his best to act unaffected.
Perfect.
Jey reached out his hand, palm up in a silent invitation, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his. He gave it a slight tug, pulling you closer, and the two of you made your way through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor, where the music seemed to throb even louder.
As soon as you reached the middle, Jey spun you around with a playful grin and pulled you close. Your back pressed against his chest, and his hands naturally found their place on your hips, guiding you in time with the music. The moment you started moving together, everything else seemed to fall away—the lights, the noise, the crowd—it was just you and Jey, playing the game you both knew so well.
Jey leaned down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “This okay for you?”
You nodded and then leaned your head back, resting it on Jey’s shoulder. There weren’t many guys on the roster you would let hold you and touch you the way Jey was. But you trusted Jey. You knew he wouldn’t push it too far. 
He then whispered into your ear, “They’re already watching. You ready for this?”
You laughed softly, your fingers resting over his hands as you started swaying together. “Oh, I’m ready.”
The two of you moved effortlessly in sync, your bodies shifting and swaying with the rhythm, close enough to leave little to the imagination for anyone watching. The heat from Jey’s hands on your waist and the feel of his body behind yours made it easy to slip into the role you needed to play, pretending to be lost in the moment, when in reality, your mind was focused on one thing—getting Damian’s attention.
Your hands glided up, grazing Jey’s forearms lightly as if you were completely comfortable with his touch. But in reality, you were simply waiting for the exact moment to strike.
With a subtle glance over your shoulder, your eyes scanned the room until they found Damian.
There he was—standing by the bar, his drink forgotten in his hand, his jaw clenched as he watched the two of you. Even from this distance, you could see the flash of frustration in his eyes, the way his posture had shifted from relaxed to tense. The possessive gleam that flickered there was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you. He wasn’t liking this at all.
Jey’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, his voice brushing your ear again, a knowing edge in his tone. “Think he’s mad yet?”
You smirked, your eyes never leaving Damian’s. “Oh, he’s definitely mad.”
As the music continued to pound, you took things up a notch. You pressed your body closer to Jey’s, your movements slowing down, becoming more deliberate, more intimate. Your hips swayed against his as his hands followed your lead, guiding your rhythm. 
You let your head rest back against his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you murmured something irrelevant into his ear, loud enough for Damian to see but not hear. Jey chuckled, playing along perfectly, his lips grazing your ear as he responded, though you didn’t even need to hear the words to know you were in sync.
Finally, you couldn’t resist it any longer. You looked back across the room, and your eyes met Damian’s. His gaze was locked on yours, burning with a mix of jealousy and frustration that made your heart race. His body was tense, his grip on his drink so tight you were surprised the glass hadn’t shattered in his hand.
You smirked, letting him see just how much fun you were having, knowing that this was driving him wild. And it was working. The game you and Jey had started was finally beginning to pay off.
Damian wasn’t going to let this go much longer—you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into you, dark and heated. He was on the edge of stepping in, of making his move. And you were more than ready for it.
Jey must have sensed it too because his grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he whispered in your ear, “Any minute now.”
You nodded, your smirk widening. “He’s almost there.”
As the music pulsed around you, the tension between you and Damian crackled in the air like electricity. You could practically feel his frustration, his desire to intervene, and the satisfaction of knowing your plan was working filled you with excitement.
Before you realize it, Damian is weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on you and Jey. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, knowing that this moment is exactly what you had been waiting for. Jey, clearly noticing Damian’s approach, doesn’t hesitate. He steps back just as Damian reaches you, offering a quick nod and a knowing smile.
"Mind if I cut in?" Damian asks, his voice low but commanding, half-expecting Jey to protest. But Jey just motions toward you with a grin, as if to say, “All yours.”
With Jey stepping aside, Damian wastes no time. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you back against his solid, muscular chest. His grip is firm, possessive, and the heat of his body seeps into you as he takes control of the moment. The atmosphere shifts, and it feels as though the entire room fades away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the pulsing crowd.
Damian leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You shiver, the intimate gesture sending a thrill through you, but it’s what he says next that really makes your pulse quicken.
“You let him touch what’s mine,” he whispers, his voice laced with both frustration and desire.
You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his dark gaze. Your heart skips a beat, but you won’t let him get away with that statement so easily. "I didn’t know I was yours," you tease, raising an eyebrow, the challenge clear in your voice. “I thought we had a casual arrangement.”
Damian smirks, that cocky, confident grin of his flashing as he pulls you even closer, so your bodies are flush against each other. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing possessively into your skin. "Oh, you’re mine," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.
You’re about to respond when Damian moves faster than you expect. In one swift motion, he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with intent. Before you can catch your breath, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and hungry. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a statement to everyone in the room, especially Jey, that you belong to him.
The kiss leaves you breathless, your mind spinning as Damian pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "You're mine. My girl."
Your heart pounds in your chest, the words echoing in your ears. His hands don’t leave your body, staying firmly on your hips as if to prove his point. His eyes search yours for any hesitation, but instead of pulling away, you feel a sense of relief, the very thing you’ve been wanting for so long finally falling into place.
In that moment, the game is over. You’re no longer just his secret—you're his, for everyone to see.
As Damian’s words sink in, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you glance over toward Jey. Just in time, you catch Rhea stepping up to him, her arms snaking confidently around his neck. A smirk spreads across Jey’s face, his hands naturally resting on her waist as if they’ve been in this position before.
You watch as Rhea leans in, her lips brushing against Jey's ear to whisper something. Whatever she says makes him smile, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. It's clear that Rhea’s walls are coming down, just like Damian's did with you.
For a fleeting second, Jey looks up and your eyes meet across the room. There's no need for words—just a shared glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of victory. The plan you hatched together has worked.
You smile knowingly, feeling the weight of success settle in. Damian's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Jey's hands slide up Rhea's waist as she moves even closer to him, their chemistry undeniable.
Everything has fallen into place.
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ruewrote · 3 months ago
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𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛.
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PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: best friends to lovers, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: breathin by ariana grande WORD COUNT: 889 REQUESTED: yes
navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist
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it was a warm evening, the kind that made the air feel soft and lazy, perfect for lounging in the comfort of josh’s apartment. you were both sprawled out on his couch, a half empty pizza box on the coffee table, the tv playing some random show that neither of you were really paying attention to.
josh sat beside you. one leg tucked beneath him as he scrolled aimlessly through his phone. his face was lit by the soft glow of the screen, there were moments, like now, when it was hard to ignore your feelings for him. 
josh suddenly broke the silence with a snicker. “hey, do you remember that stupid pact we made in high school?”
you blinked, glancing over at him. “uh, which one? we made a lot of stupid pacts.”
he laughed. “true, but i’m talking about the ‘if we’re both single at 40, we’ll get married and have a baby’ one.” he set his phone down, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “we were such dorks.”
caught off guard you looked up at him wide eyed, “yeah, we were. but, you know… it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”
josh raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly with a teasing grin. “oh, really? so you’re telling me you’re still down for it?”
you laughed, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck. “i mean, if we’re still single at 40, why not? you’d make a decent backup plan.”
“decent?” he scoffed, pretending to be offended. “i think i’d be a pretty great backup plan, thank you very much.”
you rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “okay, fine. you’d be a great backup plan. happy?”
josh leaned back against the cushions, crossing his arms with an exaggerated nod. “much better.” there was a pause, and then, in a quieter voice, he added, “i’m serious, though. you think you’d actually go through with it?”
the playful mood shifted just a little, enough to make you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he wasn’t looking at you, his gaze focused somewhere on the tv screen, but his jaw was tight, like he was waiting for your answer. 
you swallowed, your heart picking up speed. “i mean… yeah. i think i would.” you hesitated, then forced a light laugh. “assuming we’re both still single by then. which, you know, probably won’t happen.”
josh didn’t laugh this time. instead, he turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours. “but if we were? you wouldn’t mind… being with me?”
your pulse raced, you felt a strange mix of excitement and panic building inside you. was this it? was he finally–?
“well…” you shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “you’re not the worst option out there.”
his expression softened, and for a moment, the usual teasing glint in his eyes faded, replaced by something warmer. more serious. “good to know.”
there was a beat of silence, and then josh leaned forward, his tone shifting back into playful territory. “but if we’re going to go through with this, i need some assurances.”
you furrowed your brow, intrigued despite yourself. “assurances? like what?”
“well, for one, if we’re having a kid together, i’m not doing all the midnight feedings by myself. you’re in this with me, 50/50.”
you laughed, relieved by the lighter tone. “deal. i’ll be there, half asleep and covered in spit up right next to you.”
“good,” he said, grinning again. but then, before the moment could pass, his voice softened again. “but, you know… i don’t think we’ll need to wait until 40.”
you froze. the words hung between you. 
your stomach flipped as your eyes searched his, wondering if you’d heard him right. “what… what do you mean?”
josh hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously against his leg, finally, he let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, looking away for just a second before meeting your gaze again.
“i mean…” he swallowed hard, his voice a little shaky now. “i don’t know why we’d wait that long when… when maybe i’ve been kind of hoping this whole time that we wouldn’t need a ‘backup plan.’ you know?”
your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing to catch up with what he was saying. “josh, are you saying–?”
he cuts you off, his smile small but real. “i like you. i really like you. more than just best friends. and i know it’s risky and maybe i’m an idiot for bringing it up now, but… if you feel the same way, i’d rather not wait until we’re 40.”
for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. you’d imagined this scenario a hundred times, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to say.
so instead, you leaned forward, your heart in your throat, and kissed him.
The kiss started gently, almost hesitant, as if you were both feeling your way through unfamiliar territory. But when Josh’s hand lifted to cup your face, the connection shifted, growing more intense as all of your worries seemed to fall away. After a few lingering moments, you parted, breathless and a little stunned, eyes wide as you stared at each other in quiet disbelief.
“so…” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “no backup plan, then?”
josh laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“no backup plan.”
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comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
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© ruewrote 2024.
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javierpenaismyhusband · 3 months ago
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Unspoken Heat
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Pairing: Joel Miller x M!reader
Summary: Joel and you have always kept things casual—just two people who see each other around the building. But one night, when they share a cigarette, the conversation takes a turn. What starts as playful teasing grows into something deeper, and the chemistry between them becomes impossible to ignore. Joel, usually guarded and distant, begins to open up, and both are forced to face the unspoken tension that’s been simmering between them all along.
Warnings: 18+. Not use of Y/N, big fight, unprotected PIA, fingering, blow job, anal, smut.
"This is my first FanFict so pls dont hate and give some advice, i dont know what warnings to put so help me with that too and i hope you like it!!!"
You and Joel were never that close. You talked almost daily, but only because you lived in the same building. You didn't particularly like him—or at least, that’s what you wanted him to think, though sometimes you weren’t even sure yourself. There were moments, like when you went outside for a smoke, and you'd find him there too, just drinking a beer and watching the stars. As he exhaled smoke into the cool night air, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked—his green button-up shirt paired with dark blue jeans and those rugged Dr. Martens. He was effortlessly attractive, but he didn’t need to know that.
One evening, you realized you were out of cigarettes. With no other option, you decided to ask him for one.
“Hey, Joel.”
He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “What now?”
“Why so grouchy tonight?”
He exhaled smoke, giving you a sideways look. “Maybe because I can’t get a moment of peace with you hanging around.”
You smirked. “Aw, don’t be such a grump, old man.”
“Old man? Watch it, kid.”
“Or what?” you teased, leaning in slightly.
He narrowed his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Ooh, real scary.” You chuckled. “Seriously though, got a cigarette?”
He looked you up and down, shaking his head. “I don’t give smokes to twelve-year-olds.”
You rolled your eyes. “Twelve? You might need to check your eyesight.”
He sighed and pulled out a cigarette, handing it over. “Just take it and shut up.”
“Thanks, I’ll get out of your hair now. Good night, Joel.”
Joel hesitated, then muttered, “You don’t have to go.”
You paused, surprised. “I thought you wanted to be left alone.”
He shrugged, eyes on the stars again. “Yeah, well... some company wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
You took a drag from the cigarette, watching the smoke drift into the night air. Joel was quiet, sipping his beer, eyes fixed somewhere above the horizon. You didn’t know him well—just the guy who always hung around outside, never too friendly but never outright cold either. Still, something about him tonight felt different.
“Hey, Joel, you alright?” you asked, your voice a little hesitant.
He didn’t answer at first, just kept staring ahead. You figured maybe he didn’t hear you, but something in his stillness felt like he was deliberately avoiding your question.
“Joel?” you tried again, nudging him out of whatever thoughts had him zoned out.
He glanced at you briefly, then back to his beer. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, voice flat.
You took another drag, unsure if you should push further, but something about his demeanor made you curious. “You sure? You’ve been kinda quiet tonight. Not that you’re usually chatty, but...”
He exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh but more like a noise of annoyance. “I said I’m fine. Why’re you asking?”
“I don’t know... just thought you might wanna talk,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.
He turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We don’t talk, though. You only come around when you need something.”
The bluntness caught you off guard. “I mean, we live in the same building. We see each other around. Just thought... you know, maybe it’d be cool to actually get to know you.”
Joel let out a dry laugh. “Yeah? And why’s that? You suddenly interested in your neighbors now?”
You frowned, feeling a little defensive. “I’m just trying to be decent. You don’t have to bite my head off for asking.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I appreciate the concern or whatever, but I’m not looking for a heart-to-heart. Just trying to enjoy my beer in peace.”
“Right,” you said, feeling a little stupid for even bringing it up. “Sorry for asking.”
There was a pause. You stood there awkwardly, the weight of the conversation hanging between you. You tried to shake it off, but the tension lingered.
“Why do you care, anyway?” he asked suddenly, catching you off guard again. His tone wasn’t angry this time, just... curious.
You shrugged, not sure how to answer. “I don’t know. You seem... I don’t know. Different tonight. I thought maybe something was bothering you.”
Joel stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned away, taking another sip of his beer. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said quietly.
You didn’t respond, just stood there feeling like the conversation had reached a dead end. It was clear Joel wasn’t going to open up, at least not tonight.
“Alright, well,” you said, stubbing out your cigarette on the ground. “I’ll let you get back to your beer. Good night, Joel.”
Without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way back to your apartment, the cool air doing little to calm the mess of thoughts swirling in your head. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, staring blankly at the wall.
You couldn’t believe what had just happened. It wasn’t like you to push someone like that, especially Joel. You barely knew him, and yet, something about him always got under your skin—not in a bad way, though. In fact, it was the complete opposite.
You ran a hand through your hair, replaying the conversation in your mind. You knew you’d come off a little harsh, but it wasn’t because you disliked him. Quite the contrary, really. Maybe you’d pushed because you wanted to get through that tough exterior, see what was underneath. But clearly, Joel wasn’t in the mood.
Just as you started to convince yourself to let it go, a knock echoed through the room, breaking your thoughts. You froze, listening to see if you’d imagined it. Then, another knock—firm, deliberate.
Your heart raced as you crossed the room and opened the door. And there he was—Joel, standing in the dim hallway, beer still in hand, his expression unreadable.
You blinked, surprised. “Joel?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down the hallway before looking at you. “Yeah, I uh... I didn’t mean to be a dick earlier.”
You opened the door a little wider, still not sure where this was going. “You weren’t... I mean, maybe a little,” you added with a half-smile.
Joel let out a small huff of a laugh, barely there, but it softened his features just a bit. “Look, I don’t usually... talk. About stuff. To people.”
“I kind of got that impression,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.
He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable but still standing there, which meant something. “But you didn’t deserve me snapping at you like that. I guess I just wasn’t ready for... whatever that was.”
You weren’t sure what to say, so you nodded, keeping it simple. “It’s fine. Really.”
He glanced away, his voice quieter when he spoke again. “Anyway... I’m sorry.”
The apology caught you off guard. For a moment, you both stood there, the silence stretching but not in an uncomfortable way this time. It felt like a truce, an unspoken agreement to meet somewhere in the middle.
“Want to come in?” you offered, gesturing toward the inside of your apartment.
Joel hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him as he walked into the room, still holding his beer like it was a shield. You both sat down, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like you were talking to the guy from your building. It felt like you were talking to Joel.
As you both sat there, the weight of silence felt deliberate, like each of you was testing the other, waiting for the next move. Joel’s eyes flickered around your apartment, but his body language had shifted—less guarded, more curious. You took another slow drag of your cigarette, blowing the smoke out deliberately, watching how it mingled in the dim light.
“So,” you said, breaking the silence, but your voice was softer now, almost playful. “You always this charming when you apologize, or do I just bring it out of you?”
Joel’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Charming? That’s a new one.”
You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, come on. You’re not fooling me. The whole ‘brooding guy with the beer and the stare’ thing—you know what you’re doing.”
He glanced at you, his smirk deepening. “And what’s that?”
You exhaled slowly, giving him a knowing look. “Being impossible to ignore.”
Joel let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I’m trying to get your attention?”
You shrugged, taking another drag. “You’re doing a damn good job if you’re not.”
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, like he was finally taking in the shift in your tone. There was something different now, a subtle game you both seemed to be playing—except it didn’t feel like a game at all.
“You’re a lot bolder than you look,” Joel said, his voice quieter, his eyes tracing the curve of your face.
You met his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”
For the first time, Joel didn’t have a quick reply. His eyes lingered on you, and something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, maybe, or a challenge. He shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair like he was buying time, but the flicker of uncertainty in his expression only lasted a second before it was gone.
“Is that what this is?” he asked, his voice low, almost a murmur. “You waiting for me?”
You smirked, holding his gaze. “I don’t wait for anyone, Joel. But I don’t mind a chase.”
The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, he seemed to be weighing them. His fingers idly traced the rim of his beer bottle, but his attention was fixed on you, like he was trying to figure out what you really wanted—or maybe what he wanted.
“And what happens if I catch you?” Joel asked, his voice soft but with an edge, like he was pushing to see just how far this could go.
You leaned in slightly, the distance between you shrinking, your voice dropping to match his. “Maybe I’m the one doing the catching.”
Joel’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t back down. His eyes darkened, the playful banter giving way to something much more intense. The way he looked at you now wasn’t casual or teasing; it was deliberate, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to before.
“You don’t scare easy, do you?” he asked, his voice rougher, more serious now.
“Do you want me to?” you shot back, your tone laced with challenge.
Joel’s smirk faded into something heavier, his eyes locked on yours. “Maybe I do.”
The air between you buzzed, thick with unspoken things, desire crackling just beneath the surface. Joel leaned forward, just slightly, his knees brushing yours. The movement was subtle, but it sent a jolt through you, making your pulse quicken.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” Joel murmured, his gaze never wavering from yours. “But you’ve been getting under my skin.”
You gave a slow, deliberate smile. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”
Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, a sound somewhere between frustration and amusement. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair again, his eyes never leaving you.
“You’re trouble,” he said, but there was no bite to his words—only a simmering heat.
You tilted your head, letting your gaze linger on him. “I think you like trouble more than you let on.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned forward again, closer this time, the space between you shrinking to almost nothing. The way his eyes lingered on your lips sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if the teasing had been a game at all—or if it had been leading to this the entire time.
“Maybe I do,” Joel said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The tension between you was palpable now, electric, like you were both waiting for the other to make the next move. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the closeness making every breath feel more intense, more charged.
You leaned in, your voice soft but unwavering. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
Joel’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. His breath was shallow, his fingers gripping the edge of his beer bottle like he was trying to ground himself. But when he spoke, his voice was steady, filled with an intent that made your heart race.
“Depends,” he said, his tone low, almost dangerous. “Are you sure you’re ready for what happens next?”
Your pulse quickened, the anticipation building, but you held his gaze, unflinching. “I’ve been ready.”
For a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was so thick it was almost suffocating, like the room was too small to hold whatever was happening between you. But you didn’t want to break the moment. If anything, you wanted to push it further, to see just how far this thing with Joel could go.
He leaned in, just a fraction closer, and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His voice was low, barely a murmur, but it sent a shiver down your spine.
“Then maybe we should stop pretending,” Joel whispered.
And with that, the last wall between you crumbled.
Joel's words hung in the air as he leaned in, lips brushing against yours. The kiss started slow, tentative, but it quickly deepened, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, and you couldn't help but moan softly into his mouth. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the moment.
The kisses grew more passionate, more urgent, as if they were making up for lost time. Joel's hands roamed up your back, tangling in your hair, and you arched into his touch, needing more. His lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a line of tender kisses in their wake, and you gasped as he sucked gently on your earlobe.
Pulling back slightly, Joel looked at you with hooded eyes, his breathing ragged. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.
You nodded, unable to speak, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You felt alive in a way you hadn't in a long time, like every nerve ending was on fire. Joel's lips curled into a smirk before he claimed your mouth once again, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensuous tango.
As their kisses grew deeper, more intense, Joel's hand found its way down to your waistband, tracing soft circles over your skin. You moaned into his mouth, needing him to touch you more, and he pulled back just enough to reach down and undo your jeans.
Joel's hand wrapped around your hard cock, stroking it slowly, and you let out a groan of pleasure. The sensation of his warm hand on your skin was exquisite, and you couldn't help but thrust your hips forward, needing more.
Leaning in, Joel placed a gentle kiss on your jawline, his breath hot against your skin. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and you reached down to unfasten his jeans, eager to feel his cock against you. As you pulled down his zipper, Joel helped you out of your own pants, and soon you were both naked from the waist down.
You reached for Joel again, pulling him close, and he wrapped his arms around you, their chests pressed tightly together. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it only made you more turned on.
Without breaking the kiss, Joel guided you back towards the couch, your bodies moving in perfect sync. You felt him nudge your legs apart, and then he was between them, his hands exploring your body with a possessive hunger.
His fingers teased your entrance, circling around your entrance before slipping inside, and you gasped into his mouth at the feeling. He thrust his fingers in and out, finding your prostate with each stroke, and you moaned loudly, arching your back.
Joel pulled away from the kiss, his eyes blazing with lust. "You like that?" he asked, his voice husky.
You nodded, unable to speak, your heart racing. You wanted him to take you, to claim you completely.
The room was dim, the only light coming from a single candle flickering on the bedside table. The scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the musk of sweat and desire. You could feel the heat radiating between you and Joel, your bodies pressed close together. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me what you want."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you was electrifying, but you knew exactly what you desired. "I want you," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you to take me."
Joel's eyes darkened with hunger as he pulled back slightly, his fingers still buried inside you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you moaned into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand.
"God, you feel so good," Joel breathed, pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were wild with lust as he looked down at you, his hand still working its magic on your prostate. "Let's see how you like this."
Joel murmured, his eyes lingering on your erection. He leaned forward, his breath warm against your shaft as he took you into his mouth. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves through your body. You gasped and arched your back, gripping the sheets tightly as Joel began to suck you off.
His lips were soft and velvety, his tongue moving expertly along the underside of your cock. He took you deep into his mouth, his throat muscles contracting around you in a way that made your toes curl. You could feel the pressure building in your balls, the climax hovering just out of reach.
"Joel," you groaned, your voice thick with pleasure. "I'm gonna—"
But Joel didn't let you finish. He pulled off your cock with a wet pop, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he looked up at you. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want more than just a blowjob."
Before you could react, Joel moved up your body, positioning himself above you. He reached down and grabbed his own cock, guiding it to your entrance. You felt a mixture of fear and excitement as he lined himself up, his tip pressing against your hole.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.
You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.
With one swift motion, Joel thrust into you, filling you completely. The initial burn was intense, but it quickly gave way to a wave of pleasure as he began to move, stroking his cock in and out of you with slow, deliberate thrusts. You gasped and clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to fuck you.
"Oh God," you moaned, your voice breaking as the pleasure intensified. Joel's thrusts grew harder and faster, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel your prostate being hit with each powerful stroke, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body.
"Look at you," Joel growled, his voice rough with primal need. "Taking me so well. You love this, don't you?"
You could only nod, too lost in the sensations to form words. Joel's rhythm was relentless, each thrust pushing you further towards your impending orgasm. You could feel your balls tightening, the cum churning inside you, desperate to be released.
"I'm gonna come," you panted, your voice shaky with desperation. "Please, Joel—"
But Joel had other plans. He pulled out of you abruptly, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink of release.
"Not yet," he said again, his voice commanding. "I want to fill you first."
He positioned himself back at your entrance, and with one final, forceful thrust, he drove himself deep inside you. You cried out as he claimed you, his cock hitting your prostate with perfect precision. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel the cum boiling up from your balls, ready to explode.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Joel growled, his thrusts growing erratic as he approached his own climax. "Take it all, baby. Take every last drop."
As if on cue, you felt Joel's cock twitch inside you, followed by the hot rush of his cum flooding your insides. The feeling was indescribable, a surge of euphoria that pushed you over the edge.
"Joel!" you screamed, your body spasming as you came, your cum shooting out and landing on his chest in thick, white ribbons.
The sight of your release seemed to drive Joel even further, and he continued to thrust hard into you, his own orgasm wracking his body as he emptied himself inside you. You could feel the warmth spreading within you, the proof of his dominance and the depth of your submission.
As his movements finally slowed, Joel collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged and hot against your neck. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest, a symphony of passion and exertion. The room was filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and the heavy thudding of your hearts.
For a moment, there was silence, the world reduced to just the two of you and the aftermath of your shared ecstasy. Then, Joel lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. There was something in his gaze, something raw and needy, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
"What now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel smiled, a slow, wicked grin that sent a thrill through you. "Now," he said, his voice dark and low, "we clean up."
He shifted slightly, allowing you to sit up, and then turned his attention to the mess on his chest. His fingers scooped up some of your cum, bringing it to his lips. You watched, mesmerized, as he licked it clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight was both erotic and strangely intimate, and you felt a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your belly.
"Your turn," Joel said, his tone playful yet commanding.
Without hesitation, you leaned in, licking the remaining cum from his chest. The taste was salty and tangy, a reminder of the explosive orgasm you'd just shared. As you cleaned him, your lips brushed against his skin, and you couldn't resist stealing a quick kiss.
Joel's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity he'd shown earlier. The kiss was filled with promise, a silent agreement that this was far from over.
"What next, my love?" Joel whispered against your lips, his voice a seductive purr.
You could feel the power in his question, the implied control he held over you. And you reveled in it, eager to submit to whatever he had in mind.
"Anything," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Just tell me what you want."
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isaacarellanesismyhusband · 4 months ago
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guess we’re not fake dating anymore
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pair: Luke Castellan x Hades!reader
requested by anonymous
I love that fake dating trope with Luke Castellan so could you do reader x Luke Castellan, where reader is a daughter of Hades and so people kinda ignore her and are mean and usually she's fine with it and doesn't care but it's slowly starting to catch up to her and Luke sees this and generally feels bad so he offers to fake date her but then they both end up realizing they actually like each other
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The campfire crackled in the cool night air, casting flickering shadows on the faces gathered around it. Laughter and chatter filled the space, everyone wrapped up in their own little world. But you, the daughter of Hades, sat on the outskirts, where the darkness felt a little more at home.
It wasn’t like you were unfamiliar with the way people treated you at Camp Half-Blood. Ever since you first showed up, there was a chill in the air whenever you walked by. Conversations stopped, eyes looked away, and no one ever asked if you wanted to join in on anything. You told yourself you didn’t care—it’s not like you needed their approval. You were fine on your own. You had to be.
But sometimes, like tonight, the isolation got to you. A hollowness crept into your chest, and the more you tried to ignore it, the heavier it became. You hated feeling this way—weak, like you were about to break if someone even looked at you wrong.
You didn’t notice Luke watching you from across the fire. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he observed the way you sat just a little too far from the group. The way your shoulders slumped slightly, despite the brave face you were putting on. Luke knew a thing or two about feeling alone, and for some reason, seeing you like that hit him harder than he expected.
So, he made his way over, his presence felt before you even saw him. You looked up as he sat down beside you, closer than anyone else had dared in a long time.
“Hey,” he said, voice casual, like it was the most normal thing in the world to be sitting next to the daughter of the god of the underworld.
You blinked, surprised that he was talking to you, but quickly masked it. “Hey.”
Luke didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared into the fire. “You know, people around here can be real jerks.”
A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He glanced at you, and for a second, his usual confident smirk was gone, replaced by something softer. “It’s not fair. They don’t even know you.”
“Don’t really care if they do,” you lied, though the crack in your voice gave you away.
Luke heard it. He always did. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself saying, “What if… we pretended to date?”
Your head snapped towards him, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“I’m serious,” he said, shrugging as if the idea wasn’t insane. “If they see us together, maybe they’ll stop being such idiots. You know, stop treating you like a ghost or something.”
You hesitated, suspicion creeping in. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I know what it’s like to feel alone,” he admitted, surprising you again. “And maybe… maybe I don’t want to see you feeling like that anymore.”
The offer hung between you, and despite every instinct telling you not to, you found yourself nodding. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
The first few days of your fake relationship were weird. People stared, whispered, but no one dared say anything to your face. You and Luke walked around camp together, sat next to each other at meals, trained together. He was always there, with a smirk or a joke, making sure you didn’t feel out of place. It was supposed to be just an act, a way to shut everyone up. But the longer it went on, the more you started to notice things.
Like the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or how his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary. How he’d go out of his way to find you, even when no one else was around to see. And somewhere along the line, the hollow feeling in your chest started to fade, replaced by something warm and unfamiliar.
One night, after everyone else had gone to bed, you and Luke were still sitting by the fire. The conversation had lulled, and you found yourself lost in thought, trying to figure out when everything had changed. When you had changed.
Luke turned to you, his blue eyes catching the firelight and holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race. For a moment, he was silent, and then he leaned closer, his gaze softening. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I really like you. More than I thought I would.”
Before you could respond, he closed the distance and kissed you gently. It was a sweet, tender kiss that spoke volumes more than words ever could. When he pulled away, there was a shy smile on his face, and he took your hand in his.
Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. You looked into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I like you too, Luke. I really do.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Guess we’re not fake dating anymore”
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jhyoos · 4 days ago
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Dreams Come True
Chapter 5: Stalker
summary: you and vi try to discuss what your relationship is now and how this should work, but it was interrupted by a blue-haired girl.
mentions: fluff, pathetic!vi, fame!au, modern!au, kissing, groping, stalking (saesangs), violence, choking (not by vi tho 😔)
notes : i did this while sick and on my period. it has not been proofread 😭. love yall 🫵🩷 im also resetting my taglist for this so if you want to be tagged for the next chapter comment!
The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays spilling across the bustling streets as you and Mel stepped out of the practice studio. Your legs ached from the grueling rehearsal, but Mel’s persistent prodding about getting ice cream had finally worn you down. She strolled beside you, her duffle bag slung lazily over her shoulder, an almost mischievous grin plastered across her face.
The bell above the shop door chimed softly as you entered, the cool air inside offering a sweet reprieve from the lingering afternoon heat. The scent of freshly baked waffle cones filled the air, mingling with the bright, sugary notes of the various ice cream flavors on display. The shop was quaint and cozy, with pastel-colored walls and little booths tucked into corners.
After some debate, you both settled on your orders—Mel opting for a double scoop of chocolate fudge brownie while you stuck with a classic strawberry swirl. Finding a table by the window, the two of you slid into the booth, the faint chatter of other patrons blending into the background.
“So,” Mel began, her spoon poised above her ice cream as she leaned in slightly, “are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”
You gave her a confused look, though you knew exactly where this was heading. “Tell you what?” you replied, feigning innocence as you took a bite of your ice cream.
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Vi. You two were all cozy at the club, and now you’re walking around with this dreamy little smile on your face. Spill it.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “There’s nothing to spill,” you said, shrugging. “We haven’t confirmed anything yet.”
Mel’s spoon clattered against the side of her bowl as she gasped dramatically. “Yet? So, you’re telling me there’s a ‘yet.’ What does that mean? Did you two talk? Kiss? Make declarations of undying love under the moonlight?”
“Mel!” you hissed, though you couldn’t help but laugh at her theatrics. “Okay, fine. Yes, we talked. And... we might have said ‘I love you.’”
Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she just stared at you in disbelief before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh my God, you’re back together, aren’t you?”
You shook your head. “No, not yet. It’s... complicated. We’re figuring things out.”
Mel’s teasing expression softened slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re giving her another chance. You two were kind of disgustingly perfect together.”
You rolled your eyes again but smiled, a small, hopeful feeling blooming in your chest. As you sat there, sharing laughs and finishing your ice cream, you realized how much you’d missed moments like these—simple, carefree, and filled with the warmth of friendship. For now, that was enough.
The peaceful moment in the ice cream shop was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the window. Startled, you and Mel both turned your heads toward the sound. Outside stood a small group of fans, their excited faces pressed against the glass. Some of them had phones in hand, already snapping pictures.
You smiled politely and gave a small wave, as did Mel, though her grin was a bit tighter. “Guess we’ve got some fans in the neighborhood,” she murmured, trying to sound casual.
At first, it didn’t seem too serious—just a few people recognizing the two of you and sharing their enthusiasm. But as the seconds ticked by, the crowd began to grow. More people gathered outside, camera flashes illuminating the window in quick bursts. Their murmurs grew louder, and some started knocking again, calling out your name.
You exchanged a concerned look with Mel, who quickly glanced toward the door. “I don’t like this,” you admitted, lowering your voice. “It’s getting out of hand.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Mel replied, scanning the shop. “Let’s get out of here.”
You hastily placed cash on the table to cover the bill, grabbed your bag, and reached for Mel’s hand. Together, you ducked toward the back exit, keeping your heads low to avoid drawing even more attention. The two of you slipped through the rear door into the parking lot, your steps quickening as you approached Mel’s car.
Once inside, Mel made sure to lock the doors immediately. You glanced nervously over your shoulder as you spotted some of the fans spilling into the lot, their phones held high as they rushed toward the car. “They’re taking pictures of your license plate,” you said in a hushed voice, your stomach knotting.
“Not for long,” Mel muttered, her hands steady on the steering wheel as she started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot, her jaw set in determination. The fans ran after the car for a few seconds, some shouting and continuing to record. Mel turned onto a side street, taking back routes she clearly knew well.
The tension in the car was palpable as she zigzagged through the unfamiliar streets, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. After what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a breath. “Okay, I think we lost them.”
Your own sigh of relief filled the car as you leaned back against the seat. The adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your heart pound. “Holy shit, that was intense,” you said, shaking your head. “We just debuted... I didn’t think we were that popular.”
Mel laughed nervously, her hands still gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah, I thought we had some time before all this crazy fan stuff started. Guess not.”
You looked out the window, trying to process what had just happened. Your thoughts were interrupted as Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Where should I drop you off?” she asked, her tone steady but still tinged with concern.
You gave her the address to Vi’s apartment, leaning back in your seat and letting out a sigh. “Make sure you change your license plate as soon as possible,” you added, your voice slightly strained from the earlier chaos.
Mel nodded with a small grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. No way I’m letting some overly excited fans track me down.”
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When you arrived at Vi’s apartment, you thanked Mel and watched her car pull away before heading upstairs. You still had the key Vi gave you, so you let yourself in. The familiar creak of the door echoed in the apartment, and you were immediately greeted by the sight of Vi sprawled lazily on the couch, a bag of Doritos in one hand and a Dr. Pepper can in the other. She was watching The Boys with the volume high, her focus on a particularly dramatic scene.
Hearing the door, she turned her head and smirked when she saw you. “Hey, hot stuff. Sit down,” she said casually, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her.
You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bag down and joined her. “Aren’t hockey players supposed to be on diets? You’re eating Doritos and drinking Dr. Pepper,” you teased, gesturing at the junk food scattered on the coffee table.
Vi chuckled, shrugging as she took another sip of soda. “Well, I’m not an idol, am I? And besides, I need the calories. Helps me bulk up, and you like that, don’t you?” she teased back, giving you a playful wink.
You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
The moment was interrupted by a notification on your phone. Your smile faded as you opened it to find a TMZ article detailing your earlier encounter at the ice cream shop with Mel. The headline was bold and dramatic, emphasizing how close you and Mel came to being trampled by a growing crowd of fans.
Vi immediately noticed the change in your expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning over to grab your phone before you could stop her. Her brows furrowed as she read the headline, her expression shifting to concern. “You almost got attacked by fans?”
You shook your head, trying to downplay it. “We didn’t, so it’s okay. It’s normal… I just didn’t think it was gonna happen so soon,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.
Vi placed your phone down and turned her full attention to you. “Baby, your group’s account has over 12 million followers across Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok combined. Of course, you’re popular,” she said matter-of-factly. Her tone softened as she added, “You should probably get a bodyguard.”
You let out a small sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I didn’t think I’d need one this early on. I just want to enjoy things like going out for ice cream, you know? Without all… that.”
Vi reached out, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it. But your safety comes first, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
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The next few weeks settled into a comfortable routine: you and Vi alternating between each other's apartments to talk, cuddle, have sex, and then cuddle again before practice. It was a rhythm that felt natural, almost like you were already in a relationship—but Vi hadn’t asked you to be her girlfriend, nor had she even hinted at it. The silence on that front gnawed at you, and today you decided to finally bring it up.
When you unlocked the door to Vi’s apartment, ready to address the question head-on, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Standing in the middle of the living room was a tall, elegant woman with striking blue hair. Her posture was effortless, exuding a kind of natural grace that instantly caught your attention. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Vi appeared from the hallway, her usual confident grin plastered across her face.
“Hey, baby,” Vi greeted casually as she walked up, slinging an arm around the woman’s shoulder. “This is my friend Caitlyn. We’re gonna be modeling together for Vogue.”
You looked between Vi and Caitlyn, your mind scrambling to process what you were seeing. Caitlyn was stunning, her poise and beauty making her seem almost unreal. When she extended her hand for a handshake, it was with the kind of grace that made even that simple gesture look elegant.
“Hi, I’m Caitlyn. I’m an ice skater,” she said, her voice smooth and polite.
You accepted the handshake, your own movements feeling stiff in comparison. “Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, your voice steady despite the sudden tightness in your chest.
Caitlyn’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, I knew you looked familiar! You’re from the group AURORA. You look even prettier in person,” she said with an easy smile.
“Oh, thank you,” you managed, forcing a polite smile in return. Your eyes darted to Vi, searching her face for any kind of explanation or acknowledgment of how awkward this felt.
Before you could say anything else, you tried to speak, “Hey, can we talk in priv—” but Vi cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Her hand casually slid to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled back.
“I’m sorry, but I gotta go,” Vi said nonchalantly, as if the entire situation was completely normal. She grabbed her things and started heading toward the door. “We’ve got interviews and stuff downtown, so I’ll just be staying with Ellie and Abby in their penthouse for the week.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but Vi barely gave you the chance. “I love you,” she said casually over her shoulder as she opened the door, holding it for Caitlyn to follow her out.
And then they were gone.
You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door in stunned silence. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt deafening in the otherwise quiet apartment. Confusion churned in your mind as you tried to piece together what had just happened.
Vi’s words echoed in your head. I love you. Yet she’d just left you standing here, no explanation, no conversation about the questions you’d been holding onto for weeks. All of it—her sudden departure, the presence of Caitlyn, and the way she’d brushed off your attempt to talk—left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t help but wonder: was this love, or was it just convenience?
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Hours of stress cleaning had left Vi’s apartment spotless, every surface shining like new. Yet despite your efforts to distract yourself, your thoughts remained restless. Finally, you decided you couldn’t stay there any longer. You changed into one of Vi’s oversized hoodies, the familiar scent bringing a small measure of comfort, and grabbed your bag before heading out the door.
Instead of going straight home, you decided to stop by a nearby burger joint. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. Once inside, you ordered a burger and fries to go, leaning against the counter as you waited. The minutes dragged on, but eventually, your order number was called. You thanked the cashier, grabbing the bag with a polite smile before heading back to your car.
As you approached your car, keys in hand, a tall man suddenly stepped into your path. His presence was unnerving, but his expression didn’t immediately raise any alarms.
“You’re (Y/N) from AURORA, right?” he asked, his tone overly enthusiastic. “I’m a really big fan. Can I have an autograph?”
You forced a polite smile, trying to keep things cordial. “I’m sorry, I’m kinda busy right now,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.
But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from eager to insistent. “Come on, just a quick one. It’ll only take a second,” he pressed.
Before you could respond, his eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his expression darkening. His nostrils flared as he caught the faint scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly, making you drop the bag of food.
“What man were you with?!” he demanded, his voice seething with anger. “I thought I watched you carefully enough!”
Panic surged through you as you tried to pull away. “Sir, I don’t know who you are! Please let go of me!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.
His grip tightened, and before you could react, his hand moved to your throat, squeezing with terrifying force. You clawed at his arm, gasping for air, your vision starting to blur.
“Sir, please…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.
His expression twisted with rage. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he growled, his grip unrelenting.
Just as the edges of your vision began to go dark, you felt the pressure on your neck suddenly release. You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching at your bruised throat. Blinking through tears, you saw the man being yanked backward and slammed to the ground.
The commotion drew a crowd, and amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your rescuer. Recognition flickered as you realized it was Ekko, Jinx’s boyfriend. His face was steely with anger as he held the man down, delivering a punch to keep him subdued.
Moments later, Jinx appeared, rounding the corner in search of Ekko. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the scene: Ekko restraining the man on the ground, and you, sitting on the pavement with a large bruise forming around your neck.
“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” Jinx yelled, rushing toward you. She pushed through the small crowd of onlookers, waving them off as she knelt beside you. “Are you okay? The cops are on their way,” she said, her voice full of worry as she helped you to your feet.
You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. The adrenaline draining from your body left you weak and unsteady, and the edges of your vision blurred again. You immediately fell back on to the ground, Jinx caught you as she held you carefully. The last thing you heard was Jinx calling your name before everything went black.
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chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four , five
edit announcement: it’s a double upload today so expect chapter 6 in a few hours!
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moonmaiden1996 · 1 month ago
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Bound By Fate Chapter 7
I know I usually update on a Friday or a Saturday but I couldn't help myself. I am obsessed and this chapter has been my favorite to write!
Chapter 1,2,3,4,5,6
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For the most part, in the coming days you’d managed to stay in the shadows, keeping out of the crew’s way as they took inventory and prepared the provisions you assumed were stolen goods from their latest raid. The scent of saltwater mixed with the sharp tang of sweat and the ever-present burn of tobacco that lingered in the air. It was a familiar, chaotic scene—one you’d long since grown used to. But then, the sound of footsteps behind you sliced through your thoughts, halting them in their tracks.
Beckman stopped a few paces away, his cigarette glowing faintly in the dim light. The steady rhythm of his boots on the wooden deck was deliberate, a cadence that commanded attention without a word. His eyes met yours—sharp, assessing—as if reading you like an open book with a single, piercing glance.
“Evening,” he said simply, his voice low, almost too neutral, but there was an undertone to it that you couldn’t ignore.
“Evening,” you replied, keeping your tone steady, despite the unease creeping up your spine.
He didn’t speak immediately, his gaze still fixed on you. His eyes were cold—like shards of ice—peeling back layers you didn’t realize were there. You felt exposed under that scrutiny, as if he could see straight through you.
Finally, Beckman took a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up and dissolving into the cool night air. It hung between you, lingering like a barrier, adding to the stillness of the moment.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice flat, but there was something else there—an edge, or maybe a warning. You couldn’t tell.
You shifted slightly, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Is that a problem?” you asked, your voice deliberately calm. Was he making conversation, or was there something more behind his words? You weren’t about to indulge him.
“Not yet,” he answered, his tone colder now, sharper. “Just an observation.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t one to speak without purpose, and this didn’t feel casual. His words were deliberate, measured—as though he was testing you in some way.
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” you said, irritation bubbling up despite your best efforts to keep it in check. You didn’t want to stand here in silence any longer, didn’t want to keep playing these unspoken games.
Beckman didn’t flinch. His gaze never left you as he took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with controlled ease. He spoke again, his voice deliberate and measured, each word like a stone dropped into water, rippling with consequence.
“You should stay close to the crew when we reach Westrow to restock,” he said, his tone casual, but the words carried unmistakable weight. “Shanks... won’t take kindly to you wandering off. You know he’s always watching.”
The words struck harder than you'd expected. Beckman didn’t need to say it, but you understood. Shanks wasn’t just protective. The way Beckman phrased it, it felt like a warning—like a promise that if you stepped out of line, there’d be consequences. The thought of being watched, of being kept so tightly under his control, made you feel small and trapped.
You nodded, throat tight, and for a moment, it felt like the whole air had grown heavier, more suffocating. You weren’t sure if it was Beckman’s words or the weight of the growing realization that something was about to shift—something you couldn’t control.
Beckman studied you for a moment longer, his sharp gaze still fixed on you, before he flicked his cigarette away into the darkness. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small leather pouch, tossing it toward you. The faint sound of coins inside rattled as it landed in your hand.
“Here,” he said, his tone unchanged. “You’ll need this. It’s for new clothes. Clothing tends to... disappear on a ship this size. One shirt looks like another. Least now you can get women’s clothes. Won’t be so many mix-ups in the laundry.”
The weight of the pouch felt heavier than the coins it held, settling into your palm with an eerie finality. It meant you were staying. Beckman’s words sank in slowly, and you felt the chill creep up your spine.
You swallowed hard, the urge to question him rising in your throat, but something in Beckman’s eyes stopped you. There was no room for defiance here. No space for argument. This was the way things were, and you were too small to fight it.
Beckman gave you one last, unreadable look before turning away, his boots clicking steadily on the wooden deck as he walked off.
“Stay with the crew,” he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying the weight of a final warning. “Shanks is... protective. You don’t want to see what happens when he feels threatened. Be on deck in five.”
The words hung in the air, thick with menace. Protective? It felt more like a cage—one you couldn’t escape from. Possessive, you thought. That was the word. And it suffocated you, tightening with every step. Honestly, you were surprised you could leave the ship, but if Shanks was always watching, what could you do? Where could you go?
xxxxxxxxxx
As you wandered the deck, trying to find some peace, you overheard the low hum of voices from a few of the crew members. Hongo, Lime Juice, Yasopp, and Lucky Roux spoke in hushed tones, but their body language gave them away. Their eyes flickered to you when they thought you weren’t watching, but as soon as you noticed, they quickly turned their gazes elsewhere. There was a tension between them, a silent understanding that didn’t quite reach you, but you could feel it, just beyond your reach.
You approached the railing, resting your hands on the cold wood. The rhythmic rocking of the ship beneath you did little to calm the unease coiling in your stomach. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him approach until his voice rang out across the deck, full of life.
Shanks’s laugh shattered the stillness, loud and carefree, a stark contrast to the knot of tension in your chest. He was at the center of a small crowd of men, his presence undeniable. As always, he radiated power, but tonight something about his laugh felt strained, like a mask hiding something darker underneath.
You didn’t know what to make of it. His fingers brushed against your arm in a casual touch, but there was something deeper there—something possessive. You shuddered involuntarily and took a step back, though you didn’t dare pull away completely. You couldn’t.
“We made anchor,” Shanks said with his signature grin, but there was something behind it—something off—that you couldn’t quite place. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long. “Are you ready to disembark?”
Westrow. The word itself twisted in your stomach. You had no idea what awaited you there, but the idea of walking into it blind made you feel even more trapped than you already were.
You nodded, giving him the answer you knew he wanted. The one you had no choice but to give. You would follow him, just as you had no choice but to follow everything else.
The ship creaked as it docked at the bustling port of Westrow. You stood at the edge of the deck, your eyes scanning the town as the crew disembarked, the familiar hum of the market and the salty breeze from the sea mingling in the air. It was a town alive with energy—a far cry from the isolating weight of the ship. Shanks was quick to join the crew on the docks, his magnetic presence drawing attention, his laughter already rising above the sounds of the market.
You stood near the edge of the gangplank, hesitant to take the first step, but Beckman’s eyes lingered on you—silent but watchful. His presence always made you feel like you were being measured, even when he didn’t speak. The crew scattered quickly in all directions, their mission clear—to stock up on supplies. You were left to follow, keeping close to the familiar faces, the ones who didn’t look at you with discomfort, even if it was thinly veiled.
As Shanks turned to lead the way, you fell into line behind him. The others joined in, and you let yourself be swept along.
xxxxxxx
The marketplace was alive with color and sound, but to you, it felt like a maze of chaos—one where you were an unwilling player. The crew went about their business, laughing, haggling, and making deals that could just as easily be for treasure as for mundane trinkets. You kept your distance, walking a few steps behind them, moving with the ebb and flow of the crowd but never truly part of it. You were out of place in the frenzy, your body tense and on edge, trying to make yourself invisible.
Shanks had disappeared into the crowd, his absence like the silence before a storm. It never went unnoticed. You could feel the absence of his presence in a way you couldn’t explain—like an invisible thread pulling at you, always drawing your attention. You tried not to look for him, tried to ignore the gnawing sense of unease that crept into your chest every time he was out of sight.
You hadn’t intended to stop at the stall, but something drew you in. The vibrant fabrics, the colorful dresses, the soft texture of the material as your fingers brushed against them. The merchant, an oily-haired man with a lopsided grin, immediately took notice of you. His eyes roved over you, not with the curiosity of a typical merchant, but with something darker, more calculating.
"Quite the lovely lady we have here," he said, his voice smooth but laced with a familiarity that made your skin crawl. "Need help picking something special, love?"
You recoiled slightly, your stomach twisting at the unspoken implication in his words. You wanted to pull away, but he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His gaze traveled down to rest on your chest, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
"You’re the only woman aboard, aren’t you?" he mused, his voice dripping with false warmth. "Bet you’re a right little goer, especially to serve all those pirates. I imagine you could use some proper clothing. Something... more fitting for someone like you."
You took a small step back, but before you could retreat further, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a painful grip. His fingers were cold and rough, and his breath smelled faintly of stale liquor. "What’s the rush, sweetheart? I’m sure we could work out a special discount," he purred, tugging you closer, his body invading your space.
You yanked your arm, trying to break free, but his grip tightened. "Let go," you snapped, your voice sharp, but he only smirked, unfazed.
"Oh, come on now," he laughed lowly, his eyes narrowing in a way that made your pulse race. "You don’t have to pretend. I know what women like you do on board those ships. Why don’t you let us landlubbers have a go... or maybe you need to be treated the way you used to."
The force of his words made you stumble back, but his hand was relentless, dragging you toward him. Panic surged in your chest, and you felt for the first time an electric charge sizzle under your skin—powerful, moving from a dull hum to a sharp, searing hiss. But before you had even a moment to think about your vibrating skin, his palm collided with your face in a sharp slap, the impact sending a jolt of pain through your skull.
The crack of the slap echoed in your ears. You felt the sting of it, your lip splitting open, blood spilling from the cut, warm against your skin. You gasped, taken aback, but the merchant didn’t release you. His fingers tightened around your arm, pulling you closer again, his breath hot on your ear.
"You’re just like the rest of them," he sneered, voice low and venomous. "All the same. But you’ll come around. You’ll see."
Everything felt blurry in that moment, the edges of your vision spinning with the sting of your split lip. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a mixture of fear and fury, but before you could react, you heard it—like a distant rumble that sent a chill down your spine.
Shanks’s voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the noise. "What the hell is going on here?"
The merchant froze, his eyes flicking to you, then to the source of the voice. But the moment he smelled the blood, something in him changed. He didn’t release you. Instead, his eyes hardened, and his grip on you only grew stronger.
Shanks didn’t need to say another word. His aura alone sent a ripple through the crowd, sending the spectators crashing to the floor in unconscious heaps. His Haki. You saw it in his eyes—the shift from casual disinterest to something darker, something dangerous.
His gaze locked on yours for a moment, his eyes flicking down to your split lip, and the air around him seemed to crackle with rage. A growl rumbled from his chest, low and threatening, and you could see the change in him, the primal fury that burned behind his gaze.
"Let her go," Shanks’s voice was low, but it carried an unmistakable threat.
The merchant hesitated, his bravado faltering as he looked between you and Shanks. "I—I didn’t mean no harm," he stammered, his voice shrinking under the weight of Shanks’s fury.
"You did mean harm," Shanks snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "And you’re going to regret it."
In the blink of an eye, Shanks was on him. His fist blurred with movement, striking the merchant’s jaw with a sickening crack. The man stumbled back, crashing to the ground, but Shanks wasn’t done. His rage was unrelenting, each punch landing with brutal force, a fury unleashed with no intention of stopping.
"Shanks, stop!" someone shouted from the crowd, but no one could move. No one dared intervene. The force of his blows continued, each one fueled by the fury of someone who had just witnessed something precious to them harmed.
You stumbled back, shock flooding your senses as you watched the destruction unfold before you. The violence was raw, a side of Shanks you had never seen before, and yet, in that moment, you understood. You were his. To harm you was to hurt him, and that was something no one could get away with.
The chaos in the marketplace seemed to freeze. You tried to flee, to escape, but before you could make it far, two strong arms wrapped around you. You barely managed to gasp before you were lifted off the ground, carried away from the scene.
"Move!" Beckman barked, his voice commanding and cold. The crew parted like a wave, making way for him as he pushed through the stunned crowd. Hongo and Yasopp flanked you, their hands firm on your shoulders, guiding you away from the storm that raged behind you.
"We’ll protect you, don’t worry," Hongo murmured, his voice low but steady, his eyes glancing nervously over his shoulder.
But no matter how far you moved from the scene, the roar of Shanks’s fury followed you. Burnt in your eyes. His face was distorted, muscles bulging, staining underneath his skin, fist painted in blood as it repeatedly collided with something that was once a head. The violence echoed in your mind, the image of his rage still burning in your memory.  You were safe from the man but were you safe from Shanks?
Then, the roar came again—louder this time, deeper. "Get away from her!"
Shanks’s voice, ragged with anger and something else—something raw—cut through the air like a blade. Beckman turned quickly, stepping in front of you, his hand raised to block the approaching threat.
“No,” Beckman’s voice was sharp, filled with authority, unyielding. “You need to calm down.”
The two men locked eyes, and for a brief moment, there was silence. No words, only the crackling tension in the air. Then Beckman spoke again, his tone colder than the chill creeping up your spine.
"You gave us an order, Shanks. The old order. Do you remember?"
Shanks’s eyes burned with fury, but there was hesitation in them. He was torn between the power he wielded and the depths of his desire. “Screw the old order. She’s mine. Give her to me!” His words were a growl, hoarse with longing and anger.
Beckman stood his ground, his gun now drawn, aimed directly at Shanks’s chest. “No one touches her,” he said coldly. “Not even you.”
The crew, ever loyal, moved to form a protective barrier around you, their faces set and unyielding. Yasopp, Hongo, Lime Juice—each of them standing between you and the storm that was Shanks.
“You gave us an order, Shanks,” Beckman repeated, his voice unwavering. “We’re here to protect her. Even from you.”
Shanks’s fists clenched. His anger burned bright, but for the first time, he seemed unsure of how to proceed. The crew had chosen their side. And it wasn’t his.
Hongo stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Time to go, let’s move."
And as you were guided away, your heart thundered in your chest. You could still hear Shanks’s voice, a fury like nothing you had ever imagined, but in the midst of it, there was one thought that clung to you like a shadow.
Please please please let me know what you think!!!!!
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@commanderfreethatdust @hauntedluna
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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year ago
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Weighted Blanket
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Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 860+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Will Miller Masterlist
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Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started. 
When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.
Will. 
My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not. 
His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.
“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”
I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”
“You hungry?”
“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”
Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place. 
“Must have been really bad.”
“You don’t even want to know.”
He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face. 
“I missed you, sweetheart.”
“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy. 
“Let’s get some food in you.”
—----
Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me. 
After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes. 
“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open. 
Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine. 
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too.”
It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.
In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.
—----
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