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greengoblinswifey · 7 months ago

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White Boy of the Month- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, jealous!reader, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving) creampie, praise kink, established relationship, this monstrosity i conjured up.

author’s note: i’ve only ever written smut for characters and not actors so i feel a bit weird about this, hope you guys like it regardless. ps: this is all just fantasy <3

Nicholas was everywhere these days. TikTok’s new “white boy of the month”, and it seemed like everyone had taken notice. You were lying in bed, scrolling through TikTok, watching yet another edit of him. The one that kept popping up on your feed was to "Shake Dat Ah" by Bossman Dlow, and it had blown up. The video cut perfectly between slow-motion shots of him smiling and laughing, looking so effortlessly handsome with that amazing body. You couldn’t help but watch it on repeat.

You were so engrossed in it that you didn’t notice Nicholas walking into the room until he stood by the bed. Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to scroll away from the TikTok, but it was too late. He caught you.

“You’re watching the edits again, aren’t you?” Nicholas chuckled, his lips curving into that playful smirk you knew too well. “Enjoying them?”

Your face warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “I enjoy having you in front of me way more,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He grinned and joined you on the bed, lying beside you. He nestled his head on your chest, his face resting against your tits as he made himself comfortable. You resumed watching the TikTok, this time paying attention to the comments. As expected, they were filled with thirsty women.

“He’s so hot, I can’t take it!” “Nicholas Chavez is my husband now, no one can tell me otherwise.” “I’m gonna need him to come over here and shake dat ah for me.” “Fuck me daddy.” “I need him so fucking bad.”

You rolled your eyes at the flood of heart-eye emojis and wild comments, but couldn’t help feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. Nicholas, sensing your shift in mood, peeked up at you.

“Jealous?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hesitated, scrolling through another comment about how someone wanted to marry him and have him deflower them. “Maybe just a little,” you admitted, though you couldn’t help but smile down at him. “It’s not like I can’t see why they’re obsessed.”

He reached up, placing a kiss on your collarbone, his eyes never leaving yours. “They can have the edits, but I’m here with you.”

You exhaled softly, letting go of the jealousy. You knew you had him, right there in your arms, and no TikTok comment could take that away. “I guess I can deal with it,” you teased, your fingers brushing through his hair. “As long as you remember who you really belong to.”

He laughed, his breath warm against your skin. “Always.”

The energy between you and Nicholas shifted in an instant. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without a word, he reached up, pulling your tank top down just enough to free your tits. Your breath hitched as his warm hands cupped them, and you tossed your phone to the side, the TikTok edits now a distant thought, though you’d definitely be watching and gushing later. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping softly as he kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his lips pressed firmly against your clothed pussy, making you gasp. Without hesitation, he grabbed the fabric and, with a sharp rip, tore them off with his strong, muscular arms. The rawness of the action sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you felt your body respond immediately.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. Your eyes met his, and he smirked. “No woman in any comment section will ever feel my tongue on them like you do right now.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, ravishing your clit with fierce hunger. His tongue moved in circles, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your core. His finger slid inside you, curling in just the right way, making you whimper. When he added a second finger, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched off the bed as you came hard, cumming all over his mouth and fingers, your moans filling the room.

Nicholas didn’t stop, his lips and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, his eyes locked on your face. “So pretty,” he murmured between licks, “Your pussy looks so pretty. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, your mind hazy with pleasure. His words sent another flush of heat through you as he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening. “I’m all yours,” he whispered, his fingers still inside you, moving slowly. “And you’re all mine.”

“I’m yours Nicholas,” you whimpered and he smiled.

He pulled off his boxers, his big, thick cock springing free, standing hard and ready. The tip was a bright, flushed pink, curving just slightly, making your breath hitch in anticipation. He settled between your legs, teasing your clit with the head of his cock, rubbing it slowly, sending shivers through your entire body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel him inside you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly, so slowly, began to push in. His cock stretched you inch by inch, your tight pussy gripping him as he filled you. He let out a deep hiss as he sank deeper, his body trembling from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.

You clung to his arms, gasping, “You’re so big,” the words barely a whisper as he continued pushing inside, his thick length stretching you to the limit. When he was fully inside, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily before he started to move, pounding into you in deep, steady strokes.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he thrusted into you. “And I’m yours. Forever. No one’s ever gonna take me away from you.”

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, your clit rubbing against his hard, muscular body as he drove into you. His pace quickened, and you looked up at him, heart racing at the sight. His disheveled hair fell into his half-lidded, pretty eyes, his lips flushed and parted, groaning your name over and over like a chant, like he was worshiping you.

Your own lips parted in a moan, his name spilling from you like a prayer, like he was your priest, the only one you could ever confess to. The pleasure built inside you with every thrust, his body, his touch, his words claiming you completely. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was worshiping you, and in that moment, you were lost to him, praying with every moan, every cry of his name.

Nicholas could feel how close you were, your breath quickened, your moans growing louder, and your pussy gripped him like a vice. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body reacted to his every thrust. His cock throbbed inside you, and with a low, husky voice, he rasped, “You’re so beautiful, baby. You’ll look even more beautiful cumming on my cock while I’m fucking you like this.”

His words ignited the fire inside you, pushing you past the brink. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed through you, and your body trembled uncontrollably. Your pussy tightened around him, squeezing him as you came hard, your walls pulsating and clenching around his thick cock. He groaned deeply, feeling every spasm as you drenched him, but he didn’t let up. He kept thrusting, his pace relentless, pushing you through the waves of pleasure, letting you ride it out fully.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled through clenched teeth, still lost in the tightness of your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, feeling your warmth and the way your pussy gripped him like you never wanted to let go. He thrusted in harder, determined to give you more, to show you just how much you drove him crazy.

His own release was building fast, but he held back just long enough to murmur against your ear, “It’s my turn now. And you know what I want.”

Without hesitation, you arched your back for him, pressing your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him as he moved behind you. Nicholas positioned himself between your legs, guiding his cock back inside you with one swift, hard thrust. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up again, his cock stretching you as he pounded into you from behind.

His grip tightened around your waist, and each thrust was more powerful than the last. His hands occasionally left your hips to deliver firm slaps to your ass, the sound of his hands meeting your skin echoing in the room. “God, look at you,” he growled, his voice low and thick with lust. “So fucking sexy. And this ass, so fucking perfect.”

You glanced back at him, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his toned, muscular body—his abs flexing with every thrust, his biceps bulging as he held you in place. His messy hair framed his chiseled face, and the raw look of pleasure etched into his expression was enough to make you moan his name all over again, lost in the sight of him.

The pleasure built quickly inside you once more, your pussy gripping his cock tighter, squeezing him as another wave of pleasure started to overtake you. Nicholas could feel it too, his cock throbbing inside of you as he growled low in his throat. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m close, baby.”

You were desperate, your voice needy as you begged, “Please, Nick, cum inside me. I want it. Fill me up.”

He hesitated, smirking as he slowed his pace for just a moment. “I can’t hear you,” he teased. “You’re gonna have to say that louder, baby.”

Your desperation heightened, and you practically screamed it this time. “Cum inside me, Nick! I need it! Please!”

With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one final time, holding you close as his cock pulsed inside you, releasing thick, hot spurts of cum deep within you. He moaned your name as he came, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pressing you against him as he filled you up. He didn’t pull out right away, instead, he relished the feeling of being inside you, his cock still throbbing, every muscle in his body tense as he savored the moment.

Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly flipped you over, pulling you on top of him. His cock was still buried deep inside your pussy as he shifted the position, thrusting up into you gently now, making sure you squeezed every last drop of his cum out. You whimpered softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your pussy gripping him as he guided your hips slowly.

Nicholas gazed up at you, his hands tender now, caressing your waist as he whispered between kisses. “My baby. You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.”

You leaned down to kiss him softly, your heart swelling at his words. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice tired but full of affection.

Nicholas kissed your forehead and whispered against your skin, “I’m so happy my career’s taking off, and no matter what, you’ll always be by my side, and I’ll take care of you every step of the way. You deserve the world.”

You smiled softly, resting your head on his chest as he moved to get up. “Wait,” you said, stopping him. “Don’t go. I just want to stay like this, with you inside me, and I wanna listen your heartbeat.”

He grinned, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close again. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.” He kissed the top of your head and settled back, letting you rest against his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied slumber, completely wrapped in each other.

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xo100 · 7 months ago

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i’ve been thinking about this for so longgg

okay so basically a fic where lando and you met at a grand prix while you were doing a tour of the paddock you accidentally meet and start talking and lando asks for your number, you and your whole family have always been huge f1 fans and so you hide it from them when you start dating him but eventually bring him to meet them and it’s a big surprise and everyone is so shocked that lando is your boyfriend

Under the radar - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1384

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

You were on a tour of the paddock, weaving through the bustle of teams prepping for race day, while you tried not to be overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Your family had always been Formula 1 fanatics, and being here was a dream come true. You were taking it all in—savoring every moment of walking through the garages and team areas that you'd only ever seen on TV.

Your family had been buzzing with excitement when you told them you won tickets for the paddock tour at the Grand Prix. They were envious, of course, but you had promised to snap plenty of pictures for them. None of them could imagine the turn your day would take.

As you followed the group through the McLaren garage, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw a figure rushing toward you. You stepped to the side instinctively, trying to avoid a collision, but your foot snagged on something, and before you could blink, you were falling backward.

Except, you didn’t hit the ground.

A pair of strong hands caught your shoulders, and you gasped, steadying yourself as you regained your balance. When you looked up, your eyes met warm brown ones, sparkling with amusement and a hint of concern. Lando Norris.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a grin slowly tugging at his lips.

For a second, your brain went blank. Was this actually happening? Was Lando Norris—McLaren's star driver, F1 wonderkid, and easily one of the funniest guys on the grid—really holding onto you?

“I—yeah, sorry!” you blurted, trying to compose yourself, though your heart was beating too fast. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No worries, happens to the best of us,” he chuckled, still holding onto your arms. “But I have to say, it’s not every day someone literally falls for me.”

You blinked at him, then laughed, the tension breaking. “Does that line work often?”

“More than you'd think.” He winked, releasing his hold on you, though he seemed reluctant to do so.

The tour group was already moving on, but you hesitated, still standing in front of Lando, unsure of what to say or do next.

He tilted his head slightly, noticing your uncertainty. “Are you with the group?”

“Yeah, but…” You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. They won’t miss me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your response. “Hmm, playing hooky already?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you’re gonna skip out, you might as well do it properly. Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the pit wall. “Let me show you around.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Why not? You already tripped into me—seems like fate, doesn’t it?” His grin was contagious, and despite the voice in your head screaming that this was all surreal, you found yourself walking beside him as he led you past the rows of McLaren engineers, their heads down in concentration, and into areas the tour definitely wasn’t going to cover.

The rest of the tour passed in a blur—Lando showed you parts of the garage up close, pointing out the intricacies of the car, telling you little jokes about his teammates, and talking about life on the circuit. It felt strangely…normal. The kind of normal where you could forget he was a famous Formula 1 driver and just see him as the charming, cheeky guy he was.

By the time you both circled back around to the paddock entrance, you’d learned that he loved golf, he was obsessed with video games, and he had a dry sense of humor that had you laughing far too easily.

You didn’t want the conversation to end, but you knew it had to eventually. “Thanks for, um, the tour,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“No problem. You should come back, you know.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward his team, who were undoubtedly waiting for him to rejoin them. Then he turned back to you with that grin that made your stomach flip. “Give me your number.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He chuckled softly, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Your number. So we can keep in touch.”

You blinked, processing what he was asking. Lando Norris wants your number? This was a conversation you were definitely not ready for. But despite the swarm of butterflies in your chest, you handed over your phone.

As you typed in your number, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to explain this to your family. Oh, nothing major, just met Lando Norris today…

You didn’t tell anyone. Not at first, at least.

After that day, Lando had texted you the very next evening, something casual about how he hoped you hadn’t tripped over anything else after you left. You laughed out loud, and your reply had been easy, comfortable. Before you knew it, the two of you were talking almost daily—texts that quickly evolved into phone calls and, eventually, meeting up at a few more races.

By the time you realized what was happening, you and Lando were dating. Quietly, but officially.

Your family had no idea.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell them—it was just…complicated. Your parents, your siblings—everyone in your family was obsessed with Formula 1. They knew every driver, every stat, every bit of news before it even hit the headlines. The idea of telling them you were dating an F1 driver—their favorite driver—felt impossible. You could already picture their reactions. The shouting, the questions, the disbelief.

So you kept it to yourself. For now, at least.

Months passed, and things with Lando grew deeper, more serious. He wasn’t just the famous driver anymore—he was Lando, the guy who made you laugh when you were stressed, who sent you goofy selfies from the hotel on race weekends, and who listened when you vented about your day. He was sweet, thoughtful, and maybe a little too good to be true.

Eventually, the time came when hiding him from your family wasn’t an option anymore. You had to tell them.

“I have a surprise for you guys,” you said nervously, standing in your living room with Lando by your side. You hadn’t told them yet—hadn’t explained who your ‘guest’ was.

Your mom and dad were sitting on the couch, your siblings sprawled around the living room, all eyes on you.

“What kind of surprise?” your sister asked suspiciously, glancing at Lando with a raised brow. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was, but it wasn’t going to take long for them to figure it out.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile. He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently before stepping forward, taking off his cap and revealing his face.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then your dad nearly choked on his drink. “L-Lando Norris?” he stammered, eyes wide. Your siblings were frozen, mouths hanging open as they stared at him in disbelief.

“Surprise!” you said, giving them a nervous smile.

Lando, ever the charmer, grinned and waved. “Hi, nice to meet you all.”

Your family erupted into chaos. Your mom jumped up, asking a million questions at once, while your siblings started shouting over each other, and your dad was still trying to process what was happening.

“I can’t believe it,” your brother said, eyes wide as he stared at Lando. “Are you really dating my sister?”

Lando chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. “Yep. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you as you realized everything was going to be okay. Your family was shocked, yes—but in the best way possible.

And as you stood there, watching Lando joke with your siblings, you realized something else.

You weren’t just dating an F1 driver. You were dating Lando, and somehow, that was even better.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

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tsunodaradio · 16 days ago

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wonderstruck ⛐ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

THIS IS: FORMULA ONE, A MILESTONE EVENT 📀 somehow, you think you like him better this way. the man beneath the legend, fraying at the edges.

♫ starring: charles leclerc x singer!reader. ♫ word count: 4.1k. ♫ includes: romance. mentions of food, alcohol. set in monaco, reader is a singer, love at first sight adjacent. anon requested enchanted by taylor swift. ♫ commentary box: a little something to mark ferrari’s maiden 2025 podium! my first fic for charles <𝟑 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You don’t belong here.

The thought occurs to you as the lighting crew adjusts the warm tones above the stage, casting a golden glow over the ballroom. You shift the strap of your guitar case higher on your shoulder and survey the space. Glass walls looking out over the Monaco coastline, floral arrangements as tall as you, a sea of designer suits and sequined gowns.

It’s the most glamorous room you’ve ever set up in, and you’re acutely aware of how you feel. A fish out of water.

You’re early. Purposefully. The organizers told you there’d be time to soundcheck before the guests arrived, but clearly that estimate was generous.

The party’s already in full swing. champagne flutes tilted back, laughter echoing against marble. You set your things down near the stage, doing your best not to look like you’re cataloging the famous faces. But you are.

Artists, influencers, models. Anybody who’s anybody is in attendance.

There’s a brief flash of someone you recognize—tall, dark suit, that unmistakable posture—and when you follow the shape of him, your gaze lands on Charles Leclerc.

Monaco’s golden boy. Ferrari’s prodigy.

He stands near the back of the room, not exactly hiding, but clearly not performing either. There’s a small circle around him, people speaking with animated hands, bright eyes, but Charles isn’t quite matching their energy. He smiles, he nods, but something in his stance is removed. A little distant.

You watch, because what else is there to do? Charles mere existence seems to be enough for the doting crowds of socialites, most of whom don’t care enough to bother on his thousand-yard stare. He’s there, with them, but not there in any way that matters.

And then—he looks up.

Your eyes meet.

It’s only a second. Maybe two.

But in that breath of time, you watch it happen. The slight drop of his shoulders, the ease that slips into his expression like he’s let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

You don’t know him. You’ve never met. And maybe that’s what has him uncoiling, what has him unraveling just a teensy bit. He knows, too, that you don’t belong here. For once, it’s a good thing.

You offer a polite, practiced smile. Charles blinks, like he wasn’t expecting it. Then—surprisingly—he smiles back. Not the public one you’ve seen on press tours or post-race interviews. This one’s smaller.

Softer.

Real.

It catches you off guard.

You look away first, heart ticking faster than it should. You crouch by your case, pulling out cables and tuning pedals, pretending your hands aren’t a little shakier than they were a minute ago.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the moment he starts walking toward the stage.

“Didn’t expect to see guitars at a Monaco gala,” he says, stopping a polite distance away. His voice is warm, laced with curiosity. Thick with the Monégasque dialect you were growing accustomed to. “Are you the entertainment?”

You glance up, a hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Unless you’re planning on surprising everyone with a cover set, yeah. That’d be me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says with a laugh. A beat. And then: “I’ve never seen you around before.”

In any other setting, it might be the sign of someone coming on to you. A bad opening line at a bar. But this is a charity gala, and this is Charles Leclerc. To imagine him flirting with you is wishful thinking to the extreme.

“First gig in Monaco,” you chirp as you straighten up, fingers still curled around a tuning peg. “Trying to leave a good impression.”

“You already have,” he replies, almost too easily. Then his brows lift like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “So I’ve impressed the local celebrity,” you shoot back. “That’s one goal ticked off.”

His grin turns sheepish, but there’s still a spark in his eyes. “We’re not all that hard to impress, you know,” he says.

“I’ll take my chances.”

There’s a pause—not awkward, but charged. Something unsaid hangs between you, passing in the silence like a note folded and slipped under a desk.

Charles gestures to the guitar resting against the amp. “Well… bonne chance,” he says with the civility expected of somebody nicknamed Il Predestinato. “I’m looking forward to hearing you play.”

“Thanks,” you say, voice softer now. “And thanks for coming over. That’s… not nothing.”

He gives a small nod, like he understands exactly what you mean. Then, with a half-step backward, he inclines his head toward the stage. “I’ll get out of your way.”

As he turns to leave, you catch the way his eyes linger just a second too long, like he’s storing this moment away for later.

And maybe you are, too.

The acoustics of your set were meant to fill the gaps between forks clinking against porcelain and wine being poured into tall-stemmed glasses. A live Spotify playlist with better hair.

You perform, pointedly trying not to pay Charles any more heed than you already have. You’re just supposed to be background music, anyway. Still, you can feel Charles’ gaze burning on you most of the time.

Every now and then, you glance across the room, only to find him already looking your way. Not ogling. Not even smiling. Just... watching.

Like he was listening with his entire being. Like he could hear something no one else could.

So you sing. Not for him, but not not for him either. You let your voice glide over syllables like silk, linger in the soft edges of each line, pour your nerves into something that sounds like poise.

The final note hangs in the air, tender and reverent. A smattering of polite applause ripples across the room, as expected. You bow your head with practiced grace, turning away from the mic—

And sure enough: He’s looking at you.

Charles doesn’t avert his gaze. Not when your eyes catch his, not even when the waiters begin to clear plates and other guests shift in their seats. He tilts his head slightly, as if he’s still trying to place something. (Or maybe he just doesn’t want to forget what you look like at this moment.)

You step off the stage and begin coiling cables, forcing yourself to focus. One of the event coordinators murmurs something about a job well done. You thank them, nod, smile, but it’s all muscle memory.

When you glance back up, Charles is gone.

But then, a voice beside you: “You’re either very good at pretending you didn't notice me staring, or you're very good at ignoring it.”

You startle slightly, turning to find him there. He’s both fresh-faced and sharp in a way that shouldn’t be legal. His tie is loosened now, the top button of his shirt undone. He looks less like a Ferrari driver and more like a man trying not to look like one.

“You were staring?” you ask with faux surprise. “Couldn’t tell. I was busy carrying the entire emotional arc of the evening.”

That gets a genuine bark of laughter out of him, prompting you to grant him a shred of honesty.

“I did notice,” you add, gentler this time. “Hard not to.”

Charles presses a hand to his chest like he's been caught. “Guilty. But in my defense, you make it very difficult to look anywhere else.”

“Is that your way of saying you liked my performance?”

“Immensely.” He pauses, then offers his hand. “Charles.”

You take it. “I know.”

He laughs again. “Right. Should've guessed. And you are...?”

You tell him your name; it sounds different in the space between you. Less like a formality and more like a secret. He repeats it softly, almost as if your name is a lyric in itself.

“Well, it’s a pleasure.” He steps back, but not before one last glance, a fleeting upturn of his lips. Like he knows something’s beginning but isn’t quite ready to name it.

You know how this will look. Charles Leclerc, the golden boy of Monaco, leaning in, chatting you up with that movie-star smile. To the public, it’ll be a sweet gesture. A headline, even.

F1 driver shows support for local musicians. Appreciates the arts. A gentleman to all, even the nobodies.

Still, the way Charles watched you while you sang lingers at the back of your mind.

Your dinner is a lukewarm plate of something unidentifiable and beige, already waiting for you in the back when you get off-stage. The real meal had been plated for the guests. Your portion was what the staff scraped together, half out of obligation, half out of pity.

You sneak past the busy corridors, slip into the fire exit—a quiet staircase behind an emergency door—and settle two steps up, digging into your sad little dinner.

You barely get two bites in when the door bursts open again.

Charles practically stumbles inside, one hand running through his hair, jacket slightly askew like he’s been dodging cameras. You blink, a forkful of food halfway to your mouth.

He startles when he sees you. “You again?”

You chew, then swallow. “I could say the same.”

He exhales a breath, somewhere between amused and embarrassed, and glances at your plate. His smile falters.

“Is that what they gave you?”

“Well, I don’t think they expected Michelin-star demands from the entertainment.”

Charles frowns, a flush of indignation rising to his cheeks. It strikes you, then, how young he looks. No—how human he looks, when he hasn’t got any indents of a helmet mark pressed into his face.

“That’s ridiculous,” he says, voice rising an impassioned octave. “They should’ve served you properly. You performed beautifully.”

You let out a soft laugh, nudging your plate with the back of your hand. “Don’t go starting a crusade on my behalf, Leclerc.”

He hesitates, as if he’s still contemplating it. The mental image amuses you. Charles, knocking down the door of the ballroom and demanding you get some of the hors d’oeuvres.

When his shoulders slump, you figure he’s let the idea go. He leans on the door of the fire exit, wringing his hands behind his back like he’s some antsy highschooler instead of an indomitable racecar driver.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here,” he confesses. “I needed a breather.”

“I’m not going to give. Find your own lonely stairwell, man.”

He smiles at your joke. Again, that genuine grin. The one no one else seems to have pulled out from him tonight. He gestures to the step beside you. “May I?”

You scoot over and pat the stair. “Knock yourself out, Monaco.”

Charles sits, his shoulder brushing yours for a second longer than necessary. And for the first time that evening, you allow yourself to feel it—not the performance, not the politics, but the person beside you. Just someone escaping the noise.

Someone just like you, if that was even possible.

You take a moment to take him in.

Charles looks like he was carved out of a dream. The kind you don’t wake up from easily.

Even in the harsh fluorescent wash of the fire exit, he looks maddeningly perfect—hair still in place, suit cut so sharply it could wound. There's a slight flush to his cheeks, the kind that comes from not enough champagne or too many polite smiles. Maybe both.

He sits beside you like he doesn’t quite know how to be still. Not fidgeting, but not fully relaxed either. The silence stretches, filled with the scraping of your fork against disposable plates.

Out there, he’s a public figure. In here, he feels like he could be anybody.

“So,” Charles says eventually, voice pitched low as if he doesn't want to shatter whatever strange, soft thing has bloomed between you, “why Monaco?”

You shrug. “Music brought me here. Or the hope of it, anyway,” you muse. “There's a rhythm to this city that's hard to explain. Fast cars, soft oceans. It feels like something could happen here.”

He hums, considering. “That sounds like something a poet would say.”

“I’m not a great one,” you admit. “But I try.”

“You sing like one,” he says, so simply that it nearly knocks the air from your lungs.

You blink, unsure how to respond to that. So you counter, because it’s safer, because you know Charles is on the other end of the coin. You’re a newcomer, but he’s as Monaco as Monaco comes.

“And what about you?” you prod. “You grew up here, right?”

Charles leans back against the stair railing. The gleam in his eyes shifts, something a little more wistful emerging from beneath the surface.

“Yeah. Monaco is… complicated,” he says. “It’s beautiful, sure. But it’s also like living in a fishbowl. Everyone sees you, but no one really sees you.”

You nod, not quite understanding—but sympathizing enough. The glitz and the glamor, all contained in less than four kilometers of coastline. “And yet you’re here, still living in the bowl,” you point out.

“It’s home,” Charles says. “You learn to breathe underwater.”

The conversation feels easy. No expectations. No ulterior motives. Two people sitting on cold stairs, trying to find common ground between champagne towers and lukewarm catering.

He asks you about where you came from. You quiz him on where he plans to go. When you tell him you’re jealous of all his traveling, he admits to envying your roots.

“You always like crashing fire exits?” you ask lightly when there’s a lull in the conversation.

Charles chuckles, head tipping back. “Only when there’s good company.”

The words draw a laugh out of you. For a moment, you both just sit there—the racing star and a singer with nothing to offer but her voice, sharing a moment on borrowed time.

Charles leans back against the stair railing. He glances toward the fire exit door as though trying to will it to stay shut. Eventually, he sighs.

“I should probably head back,’ he says, though it sounds more like someone with a death wish than a confident declaration.

You nod, wiping your fingers on a napkin. “Right. The people need their prince.”

He smiles; his grin, crooked and a little tired. “Something like that,” he sighs.

That’s what gets you. The first sign of his facade rebuilding, the hint of melancholy bleeding back into his posture. In the few weeks since you’ve made your move, you’ve come to understand just how damn sad the French can make themselves look without meaning to.

Charles Leclerc has the kicked puppy look down to the T.

The words leave your mouth before you can think twice. ‘Give me a tour before you vanish again.”

He pauses. “A tour?”

You blink at him, then square your shoulders. Might as well go all in. “Of Monaco,” you say breezily, as if you’re asking just anybody off the street. “You’re from here. You must know the real bits of it.”

There’s a beat. Then he huffs a laugh, amused and maybe a little impressed. “When were you thinking?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What about now?”

Charles balks. Pauses. Stares at you for a heartbeat too long.

And then he’s grinning, the flush rising higher on his cheeks. He must see it—the resoluteness of your expression, the hope sparking like flint in your gaze. “You’re serious,” he says.

You gesture at your sorry excuse of dinner, half-eaten in your lap. “My fancy night is clearly over. Might as well make it memorable.”

It takes Charles less than a minute to push off the railing and proclaim, “Alright, let’s go.”

He claims that he doesn’t have to make any goodbyes. Hell, he doesn’t even slip back in to grab any of his things; he pats the pocket of his trousers and assures you he’s got everything he needs.

Trying to slip out of the venue undetected takes herculean effort. It feels a bit like a spy movie, and you find yourself giggling at the absurdity of it all. Charles catches on, chuckling quietly to himself.

You’re halfway to the parking lot when he murmurs, “Only problem is—I can’t drive my own car. I step near the Ferrari and someone’s posting about it before I even touch the door.”

“You have a driver?”

“Yes, but then it’s a whole thing.”

“I have a rental.”

Charles slows his pace. “A rental.”

“A very busted, very discreet rental.”

He stops walking and laughs—really laughs, the sound echoing in the room, free and open. It’s a good sound, you think to yourself, as you fish for your keys in your backpack. “This is either a very bad idea or a very good one,” he hums.

You toss him your keys. “You tell me.”

He catches them, still chuckling. “Let’s see if your noble steed can handle the streets of Monte Carlo.”

When you both reach the parking lot, Charles only laughs a little more at what he finds. It’s a Fiat 500 that’s definitely seen better days, and by the look on Charles’ face—he would still probably get a kick out of it, brand new or not.

He opens the passenger door for you with all the flair of someone who’s used to sportscars and red carpets. “Mademoiselle.”

You eye him. “You’re not going to mock my car the whole ride, are you?”

“Only a little,” he promises, slipping into the driver’s seat. “But I’ll do it with charm.”

You climb in beside him, watching as he adjusts the seat with practiced ease. It’s surreal. The Formula 1 golden boy in your little rental, driving you into the Monaco night like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Except Charles doesn’t quite know how to drive your rental.

“This clutch hates me,” he mutters, trying to ease it into second gear as the engine grumbles in protest.

You're laughing, both hands over your mouth, helpless with it. “You’re a Formula One driver!”

“Exactly,” he says dryly. “Not a magician.”

The car bucks slightly before finally giving in, lurching into a smoother rhythm. Charles shoots you a triumphant look that’s entirely too proud for the accomplishment.

“You drive a Ferrari for a living,” you tease.

“Yes,” he agrees, deadpan. “This is not that.”

You laugh again, and he grins this time, more boyish than anything else. Free. The way he handles the car is still far more competent than most, even with the gear grumbling now and then. As you cruise through Monaco, the streets thinner now in the dead of night, he starts pointing things out.

“That bakery—” He nods toward a squat building nestled between boutiques, “best pain au chocolat in the city. My mum used to get them for us on school days.”

You glance, smile, but your gaze keeps drifting back to him. The way the moonlight brushes his profile, how his hand rests casually on the stick shift, how the collar of his suit jacket sits just slightly askew now, his hair no longer perfect.

Somehow, you think you like him better this way. The man beneath the legend, fraying at the edges.

He catches you looking. Of course he does.

“You’re missing the sights,” he chides.

You blink, caught. “Sorry. I—was listening.”

“Were you?” he asks, eyes flicking to you before returning to the road. But he's smiling. It's small, amused, and just a little soft. Fond, even, but you can’t imagine why Charles Leclerc would feel any such way towards you.

You stare determinedly out the window. “I’m listening now.”

He hums playfully but doesn't press further. Instead, he keeps driving, keeps pointing. Tiny bookstores, late-night food stands, the route he used to walk home from school.

And you watch. The city, yes. But mostly him.

It’s not a particularly long drive, not even with the interruptions of the car stalling and stammering. There’s only so much of Monaco that can be navigated. By the time Charles is driving you two back to the event venue, only about an hour has passed.

An hour. Four times the amount of minutes it takes to drive across Monaco from one end to the other.

The guests will probably think Charles just slipped out for a quick rendezvous. No one has to know he spent the past hour cussing out the inventors of Fiat and tucking you into his version of Monaco. The sparkling nostalgia of it all.

He pulls into the parking space you’d vacated. The car whines in protest when he does; he winces, you stifle a giggle.

“That was informative,” you tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, readying to take his place behind the wheel. “I can’t wait to have the city’s best pain au chocolat.”

“I would stake my seat on it,” Charles says, slipping out of the car the same time as you.

You’ve never been so grateful to have chosen a spot that’s further from the entrance. Charles is still on edge, eyes darting around to see if there’s a rogue paparazzi within the vicinity.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassure him, “if you slip in right now, that is.”

He rolls his shoulders. “Right.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“That the line in the bathroom was so long. So incredibly long.”

A laugh escapes you. “An hour-long wait?”

“Must’ve been something in the bouillabaisse,” he says as he fights back a grin.

You tilt your head up at Charles. The car’s headlights shine on, streaking through the yawning space between the two of you. Gone is the composed man from earlier that night. Instead, you find yourself face to face with just another bright-eyed Monégasque.

“This was nice,” you say, once the quiet bears down as something neither of you can no longer ignore.

“It was,” he says. His gaze flicks over your face, and while he’s still got that faint smile on his face, he also looks like… like he’s cataloguing your features.

He clears his throat. “I’ll let you go,” he says, aiming for levity. “Wouldn’t want your beau to wonder why you’re out so late.”

Something in your chest stammers. “My beau,” you repeat, the words feeling almost silly on your tongue.

“Your beau,” he echoes. Doubling down. Your boyfriend.

You hear it then. The unspoken beneath the carefully chosen. The words held back as you leave too soon.

Please don't have somebody waiting on you, he’s saying, and it’s written all over his face.

“My beau,” you start, slow and measured in a way that’s almost torturous, “is non-existent.”

You had thought, briefly, that Charles was probably under the impression he was mysterious and unreadable. It’s clearer, now, when his face lights up for a fraction of a second. When he tries to reel the expression in instantly, only to still have the corners of his lips twitching; he has tongue the inside of his cheek to keep himself from seemingly breaking out into a proper smile.

“A shame,” he says, sounding not at all apologetic.

“It really is,” you sigh, but you don’t sound particularly disappointed, either.

A beat. This is the part where he should ask for your number, where he should make the move and express some interest. Say something about wanting to know you better, showing you more of Monaco, being entranced the moment you started singing.

Instead, Charles says, “Do you remember what I said earlier—about Monaco being like a fishbowl?”

“Breathing underwater,” you muse. “I recall.”

He nods, pleased. And then: “Sometimes, I forget how to breathe.”

You blink. The words land soft and strange, like they’ve drifted through layers of meaning before reaching you. He isn’t looking at you when he says it. His fingers curl loosely around his cufflinks, gaze trained on the venue in the distance.

You study Charles. The line of his jaw. The press of his lips, held like a secret. His words—a confession in its own right—entrusted to you, a virtual stranger.

“And tonight?” you ask gently.

He looks at you. Really looks at you.

“Tonight,” he says, “I think I got to breathe just fine.”

You smile up at him. Charles gives in and smiles right back. Around the two of you, Monaco gleams like a snow globe tipped on its side.

You don’t belong here. Not yet.

But it feels like you could.

It feels like you’re about to. ⛐

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #⛐ kae prix #⛐ cl16 #⛐ event: this is f1 #me vibrating like a dog on a roomba whenever i get taylor swift reqs

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jaellyfishh · 2 months ago

Text

The Corner Where We Met · Part 1

part 2

age: Azzi - 26 y/o, Paige - 27 y/o

trope: art teacher!azzi x PE teacher!paige (slightly inspired by Abbott Elementary)

content: fluff

dc: some grammar mistakes, i use australian english, i know little about the american school system, maybe slow updates if i’m in a slump, i’d love feedback (i’m new to writing)

word count: 5.1K

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“Ms. Fudd, can you show me how to shade my circle?” A quaint voice from the corner table caught Azzi’s attention while she had been weaving around her classroom observing her students’ drawing.

“Of course, my love. Here”

It was like any other Monday morning for Azzi Fudd at Moore Public High, a combined middle and high school institution in Storrs, Connecticut, where she had been teaching middle school art for four years since she was just 22 years old. Being the first week off of summer break, today’s art lesson mainly focused on the theories of Light and Shadow.

The lesson plan that she had curated this academic year was no different to previous years, however she did want to focus on the foundational elements of drawing within the first month. From the outcomes throughout the trials and errors of teaching since her first year at the school, Fudd realised the pattern of her students struggling during the mid-semester mark up until their final art project. She figured allowing time for them to have a good grip of the basics would ease her students into the forthcoming lessons, making art more familiar, more friendly.

Ring, ring, ring.

Finally, lunch time, Azzi thought.

“Before you leave, don’t forget your homework for tomorrow, alright guys? Y’all drew amazing, thank you for today!” Azzi half-yelled as her students made their way through the door, a disorganised chorus of ‘Thank you, Ms. Fudd’ echoing throughout the classroom.

The young curly haired woman smiled as she watched the last student leave the class. With a small pile of her files and books balanced on one arm, she switched the room lights off before heading down the corridor to the teacher’s lounge for lunch.

A small crowd of teachers came into sight after Azzi had swung the door open. As she made a quick beeline towards the fridge, a loud shuffling of feet approached her.

“Aye, Fuddie Bun! How’s first day treatin’ ya?” A boisterous voice startled Azzi.

“Geez, KK. One day, you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Azzi yelled-whispered at her coworker, Kamorea ‘KK’ Arnold - a childhood nickname only her closest of colleagues can call her, and by closest of colleagues she means just the one Azzi Fudd.

KK started her rookie year as their high school math teacher a year after Azzi was employed. They had become close friends early on, I mean, it was hard to avoid Arnold in general as she was ever the more extroverted and very personable in a loud way, but not that Azzi minded anyways. Despite their contrasting personalities, they found comfort in each other over the few years, ranting it out and gossiping in the break room after a long school day or winding down at each other’s places over the weekend.

“Everyone’s too serious this morning, girl. My classroom is way more entertaining than this!”

“KK, it’s Monday, whaddya expect?”

After sharing brief exchanges with their colleagues nearby, the pair took their lunch box of homemade food from the microwave and sat in the corner of the lounge.

“Hey, did you hear they hired a new PE coach? I heard she’s pretty good,” KK mumbled as she munched on her wrap.

“Oh my god, really? It’s the fourth one since I’ve been here. I bet she’ll be gone by next month. Our kids can be ruthless sometimes,” Azzi reckoned while absentmindedly picking on the lettuce of her caesar salad.

“For real! But, nah, I saw her talking to Big G-“

“Principal Auriemma,” Azzi corrected.

“To Principal Big G Auriemma,” KK ignored teasingly, “at his office. And she sounds like she stands on business! I know she’ll put our kids in place”.

“Cool… let’s bet on it,” Azzi said smoothly.

“Girl, what?”

Azzi chuckled as she shook her head. “You heard me…you know how I tell you my life seems kinda boring right now and I kinda wanna spice things up this year?” Fudd half-joked referring to a conversation they would occasionally have outside of school, “So, let’s bet on it. She’ll be gone by next month”.

“Babe, when I said I wanted you to spice up your life I meant going on dates, having one-night stands…this is seriously not your take on spicing things up, is it?” KK looked at her friend in disbelief.

“Hey, not too loud!” Azzi hissed, “You shouldn’t always take my words seriously, dude. Now, c’mon, what are we laying on the table?”

“Alright, alright,” holding back from making any further comments on a Monday afternoon, KK pondered. “Hmm, how about winner gets to pick a hideous outfit for the loser to wear on a school day?”

“Oh…hell no!”

“I knew this’d piss you off, Li’l Miss Fashionista,” KK cooed as she poked on Azzi’s arm annoyingly. “What happened to spicing things up?”

“Fine, fine! Just make sure it’s appropriate- OW!” Azzi winced at the sudden slap on her arm.

“Defamation of my character! Of course it’ll be appropriate, what do you take me for?” KK protested.

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully before sticking her tongue out.

“Oh and Azzi, I forgot to mention,” a small grin etched on KK’s lips, “she’s totally your type”.

“I- what?”

“You’ll see it when you see it. Just…don’t flirt the way you do at the clurb” KK voice animatedly while leaning forward, staring at Azzi with mischievous intent.

The older girl scoffed while leaning back on her chair. “I flirt just fine, Kamorea. I’m a little rusty, but I still got it”.

“Right, right. She’ll be the judge of that”

“What are you talking about, honestly?“ Azzi surrendered trying to figure out her friend’s intention, but Arnold remained mysterious.

“Can I make our bet more fun, then? You can pick my school attire for a whole week if I bet you won’t end up sleeping with a faculty member before the end of next month.”

Fudd’s mouth was left agape. “Enticing, and nothing in return? The stakes are high for this one. Is it that serious for you, KK?”

“I trust in my gut,” KK mused, arms folded.

“Well, tell your gut that it’s wrong. Besides, I don’t shit where I eat, my four years being here proves it”.

“That’s ‘cause there was nobody good looking enough here for you to fuck. It’s prime time now, baby,” KK rubbed her hands menacingly, much to Azzi’s disgust.

“Bro-“

Ring, ring, ring.

Fifth period rolled in and Azzi had just pardoned herself to use the toilet halfway through her class. As soon as she swerved and bent that corner right before the end of the hall to the toilet doors, her body collided abruptly with another. Azzi almost stumbled backwards in her position before a long arm swooped just around Azzi’s waist before any accidents were to happen.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Azzi apologised before lifting her head to look at her saviour.

Tall. Slicked back blonde. Blue eyes. All black sports wear.

Fudd’s knees buckled, slightly wobbling unsteady in her position again. The grip around her waist tightened.

“Hey, you good?” The blonde breathed, half smiling as the curly haired woman in front of her chuckled whilst shaking her head in embarrassment. The unfamiliar lady took her arms off of Fudd as soon as she was able to stand upright on her own, all the while studying her movements - her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I should’ve slowed down before turning the corner,” Azzi exhaled deeply as her brown eyes stayed hypnotised in the blue ones in front of her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before”.

Paige chuckled this time with a slight smirk, her hand sliding the lanyard around her neck slightly towards Azzi. “Yeah, I’m the new PE teacher.”

The shorter girl’s cheeks grew warm as she quickly scanned the figure in front of her.

Yeah, KK wasn’t kidding, she thought.

“I’m Paige. Paige Bueckers,” she grinned before holding a hand out.

“I’m Azzi Fudd. I, uh, I teach art for our middle schoolers,” she smiled shyly before shaking her hand.

Paige raised her eyebrows. “The drawings on the board right at the entrance, they’re your kids’?” Azzi nodded proudly. “Well, they got a pretty darn good teacher. They’re beautiful”.

When Paige said the latter sentence while staring into the depths of Azzi’s soul, she couldn’t help but feel that was addressed to Fudd herself and not the drawings, but she immediately shook her thoughts away in denial.

“Why, thank you,” Azzi slowly blinked while flashing a charming smile. “How’re the kids treating you?”

“Well, they’re something else for sure,” Paige rubbed the back of her neck before letting out a breathy laugh. “It’s my first day, so I’m doing a trial run. They just gotta loosen up to me a li’l, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I know the kids wanna seem tough, but…they don’t know I’m the toughest one out here.”

Azzi nodded in amusement as her arms folded. She assumed Paige was going to say something more profound. “Is that so? Wow, so maybe KK was right about you”.

“Talking about me behind my back already? I can never stay away from people’s thoughts,” Paige exclaimed sarcastically, her true personality unraveling in front of Azzi, a type of confidence she’s never encountered before. Fudd was hooked, there was a certain charm to the blonde that Azzi couldn’t help but want to be trapped in.

“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, “We just wanna see if you got what it takes to teach our kids at Moore. The teachers here gotta be gritty, smart…resilient”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, I already got that covered. The more important question is,” Paige took a step closer. “Do the kids have what it takes to handle me?”

Fudd’s breath hitched at the sudden proximity. She’s got crazy eye contact, Azzi thought.

“Just don’t come begging me for help when it gets to it, yeah?” Azzi was able to get back, her head tilting to the side as she gently pushed the woman back.

“Not until you hear your kids complain about me all class before you beg me to stop them,” Paige was quickly retorted.

For a moment they just stood there giggling at what they thought was the most entertaining interaction they’ve had all morning.

“You’re an interesting one, Bueckers, I’ll give you that”

“Well, they hired me for a reason, didn’t they? Seems like it’s a pattern ‘round here,” Paige hummed triumphantly as she slid her hands into her pockets while tracing her eyes over Azzi’s face. It was an electric silence that surrounded them, a tension raising hairs on their skin as they stared at each other for a moment. Then Paige realised why Azzi was there in the first place.

“Hey, you probably need to go more than I wanna stay,” Paige interjected quickly before Azzi could register what she just said. “I’m gonna head back before they start running out the doors to escape,” Bueckers gave her a knowing nod before slowly moving past her towards the hallway.

“Uh, nice meeting you, Azzi Fudd. I’d- I’d love to see you around more often,” a slight smirked etched on Paige’s face as she turned around to face Fudd again.

“We’ll see about that. Just don’t think you can one-up me every time I see you” Fudd reflected the blonde’s smirk before pushing the bathroom door open. Paige couldn’t help but let out an incredulous chuckle before jogging back to the gym.

Dammit, I hate when KK’s right, Azzi’s thought ran.

—

“So, how hot was she? Tell me!” Caroline Ducharme, Azzi’s roommate and best friend, asked too inquisitively while shaking her friend’s arm.

“Car, careful, I’m cooking here!” Azzi scolded, her hands on the wok as she stirred some fried rice.

It was dinner at the Fudd-Ducharme apartment and the pair were catching up on their daily newsfeed. Being best friends of almost 12 years now, they did everything together, even managing to tick most of the boxes off of their childhood bucket list. One of it being to live together in their dream three-story mansion. And although their current accommodation was far from it, it was with the artistic creativity of Fudd and the financial literacy of Ducharme that they were able to conjure up a budget interior design, making their cold Connecticut apartment into a cozy, earthy home.

“This is so exciting! After months of pushing potential partners away, someone finally caught your attention. Sucks that it had to be at work, though,” Caroline rambled as she leaned on the kitchen island behind Azzi.

The curly-haired girl whipped her around unamused. “She’s not a potential partner. And I’m only stating the obvious - she’s objectively pretty. Even KK agrees”.

“Yeah, well KK isn’t attracted to her, you are”

“What makes you say that?”

“Babe, I’ve known you since we were in middle school. Besides, weren’t you just geeking earlier about how she had her arms around you like she was your knight in shining armour?” The taller girl argued back.

“You’re exaggerating, I never said that. I just said it was really thoughtful of her to do that, you know?” Azzi reasoned, but Caroline wasn’t buying it.

“Whatever you say, Azzi. I don’t giggle like a school girl about kind gestures like that. I mean, it’d be worse if she was tall, blonde with blue eyes and athletic, that’s for sure,” Ducharme shook her head.

And then Azzi froze. Almost too obviously.

“BITCH, YOU’RE COOKED!”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up-“

“I’m searching her socials. What was it? Paige Bueckers? How do you spell that-“ Caroline whipped out her phone before hurriedly running to the living room not too far from where they were. But it was not like Azzi had the energy to chase her anyways.

“Caroline Ducharme, I swear to God, you need to stop-“

“Found her!” Caroline interrupted as Azzi grew silent. Not that she’d want to admit, but Fudd herself was already curious. “Damn, she is hot”.

The curly haired woman groaned before Caroline approached her once again, shoving her phone to Azzi’s side, the brightness illuminating her face.

Paige’s instagram profile was public with almost 300 followers. Her bio had a red pin emoji with just the initials ‘MN’ next to it, perhaps what the pair assumed to be her hometown, Minnesota. Her profile was half empty with only 5 posts, the most recent being the only one with her face on it taken last July over the summer which Caroline had clicked on soon after.

She was gorgeously tanned. Her skin looked moist from the sunscreen as she wore a pastel purple bikini top paired with black basketball shorts, effortlessly making the fit look good on her body. She posed with a slight manspread on a blue striped beach chair, her sparse curly waves lifting perfectly with the wind.

As Caroline swiped on the next photo, it was a selfie on that same day with Paige wearing a bucket hat this time, her blue eyes gleaming as she bit her cheeks.

“Daaammn,” Caroline gushed, turning her head to face Azzi. She noticed her friend’s eyes glued stuck on her phone, scanning every inch of the picture. “Like what you see?”

The question brought Azzi back to reality, a begrudging tsk elicited from her.

“Take your phone away before I smack you,” the shorter friend mumbled, pulling her attention back to the wok.

“Or before you start gooning-“

“What are you, sixteen?”

Caroline couldn’t help but laugh at the angry state of her best friend. “What are you so upset about? If anything, I’d let her hit immediately.”

“Car, this is getting out of hand. You and KK both,” Azzi whined before switching the gas off and removing her apron. Caroline instinctively started pulling out her homemade avocado shake out the fridge, setting it down on their dinner table while Azzi poured the fried rice onto the place Ducharme had set on the kitchen island.

“Az, you know I’m teasing. But, seriously, why are you denying that she’s really fine and totally your type?”

As the pair took their plates to the dinner table, the curly haired woman sighed before taking her seat.

“It’s not that I’m denying it, I’m being respectful. I don’t know anything about her and I just… I don’t wanna get to know anyone right now,” Azzi confessed before taking a bite of the fried rice. Ducharme hummed.

“Aha, is this…is this possibly still about Des? Hasn’t it been almost two years already?”

“I dunno, I think it is. It was a four-year relationship, Car. She meant everything to me when I first moved here. And you know how I am in relationships. Fuck, I hate being the anxious-attachment type”

“I know you’re gonna hate me every time I say this, but as your pseudo-relationship counsellor hearing you vent to me over the years about Destiny, all I can say is she was a conniving ass bitch who didn’t realise you deserved someone worthier than her. So what did she do? She grew more insecure, projected that onto you and turned you into what you became in the relationship. But, you knew that and you knew I hated that girl from the get go. But I also knew you loved her more than my voice could even reach you. And, as your best friend, of course I stayed…because I was ready to catch you when you’d eventually fall,” Caroline sermonised, her hands caressing Fudd’s.

What was brilliant about the relationship of the two was how they both gave each other such unconditional, unwavering love and understanding throughout the decade of their friendship. They matched each other in mature introspection and calm confrontations, making their bond stronger over the years.

“Oh, Car,” Azzi chuckled, “You’re gonna make my fried rice salty from the tears about to fall from my face.”

“Oh, shut up,” the taller girl rolled her eyes as she sipped on her avocado shake. “Anyways, tell me more about Paige, please?”

Azzi stared at her friend in disbelief, shaking her head before she continued. “Alright, alright. Well, she’s confident. Like, really confident. It’s like she has this big head from being so certain and egotistical about herself, but…I never felt any malice in it, at all. If I were to assume, she probably does that to get the best out of people, you know?”

Caroline’s eyebrows couldn’t raise any higher than that. “Ooo la la, sounds like she has a little crush.”

“Please, Car, I spend half my day with middle schoolers not to come home to one,” Azzi groaned.

Her best friend smiled quietly. “It’s cute. Just…don’t be afraid to let things flow as they should”.

Azzi nodded when suddenly her roommate gripped her hand tightly. “And who cares if you’re gonna shit where you eat, I’m gonna call the plumber on you all day!”

“Yeah, you’re getting evicted tonight”

—

Tuesday morning came and the usual background noise at Moore Public High seeped through the gaps of Azzi’s car as she parked it. The familiar sounds became more apparent the moment she had opened her door. The low rumble of the school bus’ engine, the jittery chatter amongst the students, the cool autumn breeze whistling by and… loud morning greetings bellowing from the steps of the school’s main entrance?

“Derrick, don’t frown like that, put some pep up in your step!”

“Senara, love your hair! Lookin’ fresh!”

“What did you pack in here, Caleb? Geez Louise!”

Fudd stood dead on her tracks as she watched the new scene of her mundane morning unfold before her. It was a little too early for the taller woman’s enthusiastic positivity for Azzi’s liking, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. She also noticed her new coworker’s outfit for the day, simple yet fitting - All white socks and nikes, grey basketball shorts with a plain white tee and an unzipped pink wind breaker; Azzi’s favourite colour.

However, it didn’t take long before Azzi realised she herself wore pink today. Low white heels, bright pink slacks and a formal white button up. Well, isn’t that convenient, she thought.

Downing on the pink tumbler with her morning coffee on one hand like a shot of tequila, she braced herself, approaching the blonde who was busy ruffling the hairs of one of Azzi’s students.

“Not too much on Adrian’s hair, his dad works hard on it every morning,” the soft tone of a familiar voice caught Paige’s attention.

“You tell ‘em, Ms. Fudd!” The younger boy yelled before scurrying off into the building.

With raised eyebrows and a closed smile, Bueckers had her hands folded as she looked down at the younger woman who stood one step below her. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Ms. Fudd.”

“Hey, you greeted all the kids with something, don’t be boring now,” The curly haired colleague teased, her dimples peeking out as she looked up at Paige through her lashes.

“Hmmm,” The taller woman looked Azzi up and down, scanning her meticulously causing the younger woman to stagger faintly in her steps, a warmth growing on her cheeks.

“Was the pink intentional?” Paige smirked, leaning her head down. Azzi scoffed.

“I’ll have you know that pink is my favourite colour, so no”

“Noted,” Paige chuckled. “You look good in pink, Ms. Fudd”

The comment caught Azzi way off guard before she started coughing. Is this woman doing the triangle method on me right now? She questioned internally. The shorter lady knew all too well of Flirting 101 as she was a mere student of it herself. Of course, it doesn’t always pan out on a couple weekend nights at the queer club with KK and Caroline. But if not as the giver but as the recipient, she can tell if someone was trying techniques on her.

“Don’t try to think you’re getting on my good side today, Ms. Bueckers,” Azzi took one more step up, the pair now at eye level. “You don’t look too bad yourself…” Azzi spoke with a hushed tone, her eyes trailing down as she played with the hem of Paige’s pink wind breaker. “But this would look much better on me”.

She slowly lifted her eyes back to face Paige, who was now rendered speechless, her jaw tightly clenched trying to stifle a reaction in front of the kids. With a final smile, the curly haired woman walked right past her taller counterpart before who knows what could’ve escalated. Bueckers could only scoff before clearing her throat to resume her new morning routine.

Morning assembly at the gym was just the same as per usual, except for a few announcements including the introduction of Moore’s newest PE teacher, the theme for their winter recital and a reminder of the upcoming high school basketball try outs.

“Azzi Jazlyn Fudd, I saw that,” Arnold tapped on the older colleague as they made their way down the crowded hall to their respective classrooms.

“Saw what?” Fudd asked innocently.

“You flirting with the new PE teacher this morning. Now that was steamy,” KK pressed her 18+ jokes.

“Quit it, Arnold. Must you always make things sound like…that,” Azzi exasperated.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, though. I see you wanna sabotage the bet bad”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you and I were just making jokes to pass time”

“Maybe. But, admit it, she does kinda look good today, don’t you think?” KK’s persistence would make anyone go mad.

“You want her instead, KK? Seems like it,” Azzi had reached her classroom door.

KK continued frolicking down the hall. “I’m good. I don’t wanna deal with the wrath of a jealous Fudd”

Azzi grunted loudly before entering her classroom with a smile.

—

The blaring sound of the final school bell rang across the building as the clock had struck 3pm. Azzi was just finishing up on grading the last student’s assignment at the teacher’s lounge before neatly shoving her files and papers into her bag.

She walked down the hallway, the building already emptying out, when she couldn’t help but notice a familiar tall figure making their way towards the hallway that turned left towards the gym. With curiosity, the curly haired woman’s actions moved quicker than her mind could think. And soon her legs took her to follow from behind at a distance.

What am I doing? She asked herself.

Right at the gymnasium door, Fudd peeked her head to see where the figure went when she was met with nothing but the vast emptiness of the spacious gym, except for the hideous amounts of balls, hula hoops, and multicoloured cones scattered across the venue.

With unknowing disappointment, Azzi was ready to turn back to the exit when a loud voice erupted from behind.

“Boo!”

“FUCK!”

Once again, Azzi had lost her footing before her legs gave way, not until a familiar arm wrapped graciously around her waist to stop her from falling backwards.

“You know, I’m beginning to think you draw these typa actions on purpose,” Paige laughed breathlessly before helping Azzi regain her balance.

A tinge of red spread throughout Azzi’s face as she dusted herself off. “Y-you shouldn’t scare people like that”.

“Well, I don’t condone stalking,” The blonde grinned as she stared accusingly at the nervous woman in front of her.

“W-who said anything about stalking? What if I happen to coincidentally walk in the same direction as you?”

Paige placed her hands on her hips. “To a dead end? Unless you came here to help me clean up, I don’t see any reason for you to walk all the way down here after school”.

The shorter girl in front of her lowered her head as it filled with a mixture of guilt, embarrassment, and regret. Her fingers started to fiddle with the strap of her brown leather bag slung on her shoulder as she tried to find her words.

Paige stood patiently, scanning her body language before smiling in empathy.

“You alright to help me put those things away? That is, if you still got some energy left in you,” Paige leaned slightly down to catch Azzi’s attention. The curly brunette hesitantly lifted her head up, the blue eyes in front of her piercing as she bit her inner cheeks.

As soon as she nodded, Paige exhaled in relief before reaching towards Azzi’s shoulder where her bag hung. In an instant, the blonde swung Azzi’s bag on her own shoulders as she lead the way into the gymnasium.

A couple minutes have gone by in awkward silence as the pair weaved around the gym collecting every trace of equipment Paige happened to conveniently use towards the end of the day. Regardless, she was quick with it, putting twice the amount away compared to Fudd. In Azzi’s defence, it wouldn’t be as tiring had she not worn low heels and tight slacks.

“Alright, I need to count this as an extracurricular,” Azzi finally blurted as she began to feel sweat forming.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh as she continued to run around in circles around her. She heard the younger woman mutter an ‘I’m tapping out’ before walking towards the low stage and propping herself to sit on the edge, her feet dangling while she caught her breath.

She only watched Paige dance around for several seconds before the gym had cleared of any mess.

“Took you long enough,” Azzi joked sarcastically as Bueckers approached her, slightly panting.

“Yeah, well, my helper tapped out before we even got to the fun part, so I was left to fend for myself,” she retorted before plopping herself right next to Azzi who chuckled. It was a comforting silence for a moment before Paige turned her head to face Azzi.

“So, you’re still not gonna tell me why you came all the way down here?” the corners of Paige’s lips slightly tugging as she takes in the woman sitting next to her.

Azzi sighed with her eyes closed. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Depends on who I wanna get to know”

The wheels in Azzi’s head turned. Who cares if you’re gonna shit where you eat? Caroline’s voice rang through her head. But the curly brunette was fighting against it, her indecisive brain simultaneously computing a pros and cons list in a matter of milliseconds in her head.

“Then ask me something else,” Azzi slightly croaked, internally relieved at her deflection.

“You’re hard to please”

“Because you’re not asking the right questions”

Their quaint back-and-forth intrigued the blonde, her jaw shifting as she leaned back on her arms.

“Alright, Ms. Fudd. I’m intrigued. What’s your story? How do you endure years of cold ass Storrs, Connecticut?

“I wish I could tell you, but my hometown’s Virginia. We get chilly, but not Storrs chilly,” Azzi grinned, “Actually, I wanted live away from my parents. I moved out four years ago. We’re good, it’s just…I…well…there was someone…at the time”.

Azzi couldn’t lie her way out of this and now she wished she’d just answered Paige’s first question, her decision-making this time taking a dive as she opened Pandora’s box.

Paige’s eyebrows raised. “Ah, so you were in love?”

“Oh, woah, I wouldn’t say “in love”, just…teenage infatuation, I guess”

The blonde grew more curious. “Hmm, you said ‘at the time’? Not everything panned out the way you wanted, I’m assuming?”

Azzi chuckled. “Yeah, no. It wasn’t a pretty four years. But, I didn’t wanna back down. I loved art and teaching more and my best friend, Caroline, she helped me pick up the pieces. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t…resilient”.

“You say that word a lot, ‘resilient’. It’s nice,” Paige gave a tender smile.

“Thanks, I just needed a reminder, you know?”

The tension that once filled the air around them vanished as the pair slowly eased into each other’s comfort.

Azzi furrowed her brows lightheartedly. “Okay, now I’m curious”.

“Hmm?”

“Any reason you’ve invited yourself over to Connecticut?”

Paige smirked. “How’d you know I’m not from here itself?”

Azzi was taken aback. “I- well- A woman can assume-“

“An assumption could’ve started with a ‘You don’t look like you’re from here’ or a ‘Ever thought about leaving Connecticut?’. Ms. Fudd, the sheer confidence in your question can only make me assume you’ve been stalking me even outside of school premises. Perhaps, online?” Paige’s eyebrows raised, the grin on her face growing more obnoxious as the girl in front of her started becoming a flustered mess.

“I- you’re absolutely w-wrong about that,” Again, Azzi couldn’t tell a lie to save her life.

“Am I?” The blonde leaned forward from her position, her face relatively close, much to Azzi’s liking.

Before the curly brunette could get a word out, the blonde hopped down from the stage. “I’m gonna head out before the janitor complains. Thanks for the help, by the way, Ms. Fudd. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The playful grin remained on her face before she was out of Azzi’s sight, leaving the poor woman paralysed in shock.

I could just end everything right here, actually, Azzi catastrophised before carefully getting down from the stage.

#pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd

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ambivalence-is-me · 5 months ago

Text

The Lost Princess

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Your life drastically changes after meeting Feyre. You don’t know how to help, you don’t know much of anything really so, how is your life going to be now? In a city you didn’t know existed with people you thought you hated.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: manipulation, perhaps some self-loathing issues, slow burn. This is just like a prologue of their first impressions of each other.

A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Glinda from Wicked. I’ve been obsessed ever since I saw it. I wanted that sort of superficial clueless character vibe and this came out. I’ve got so many other ideas so just hear me out okay lol

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You were a fool. A useless fool...and they knew that.

But you didn't want to be one. No, you wanted needed to prove you weren’t a fool. Prove it to them and to yourself.

It wasn’t your fault, even if they didn’t know it but you knew that it wasn’t your fault you had been so...lost.

They didn’t know about all the lies and manipulation you’ve gone through at the hands of your brother.

Your brother, who was probably the one male after the King of Hybern that was so hated, the Inner Circle’s number two enemy..Tamlin.

Let’s backtrack a little...

You are nothing like Tamlin, personality and physically speaking. The only trait you two seemed to share is the shade of green eyes. Hair, facial features, even height, seemed to set you apart from him. And you’ve never been more thankful for it.

Personality wise, while Tamlin seemed to damper every path and flower he passed, you had the opposite effect. A true daughter princess of Spring. You were bubbly, carefree, perky and just so full of life. It had annoyed Feyre at the start. She met you a few days after she had been taken from the mortal lands and forced to live at the Manor. You seemed to appear out of freaking nowhere in a pink dress, small tiara on top of your head and on your face a mask that seemed to be of a dove, beautiful white and gold interlaced throughout it. It was all sunshine and rainbows as if you had come down in a freaking bubble or something.

It irritated Feyre how you walked around and interacted with everyone with such joy when everyone else, especially her, seemed to be on high alert and tense but that tension seemed to leave whenever your presence was by. Feyre couldn’t get any answers from you whenever you conversed. She wanted to know everything about the fae lands, including how to get out, anything but you just didn't know. And later you both learned that it hadn't been Amarantha’s fault but your brothers’.

During Amarantha’s reign you had lived in a bubble (methaphorically speaking). You couldn't remember why one day you woke up wearing a mask, one you couldnt get rid of or even think about why you were wearing it. You didn’t know who was the evil red female who had proclaimed herself High Queen of Prythian or what she had done to all the lands and its people. Nor did you know of your father’s involvement in killing Rhysand’s family and especially didn’t know how he (and your mother and brothers) had been murdered by Rhysand’s father. All of this had gone underperceived by you for decades.

Truthfully, you weren't even supposed to be alive but were meant to suffer your mother’s fate at the hands of Rhysand’s father. And after learning the truth and re-meeting Rhysand properly, looking at the pain and grief hidden behind his violet eyes, you knew it too.

Tamlin, seemingly perceptive of what was coming after what his father had done to Rhysand’s mother and sister, suggested to your father to send you away, hide you far away where they couldn’t find and murder you. It had worked but you couldn't remember where you had been or with who, that part of your life was as if never happened.

After becoming High Lord and Amarantha starting her advances, he went even further to secure your protection and took you somewhere where he knew the sort of people who lived there would help him make sure that you followed every word and instruction he gave. He had them put a spell on you, he had cursed you.

Cursed to forget about the death of your family, cursed to overlooked Amarantha, cursed dismiss the danger they lived in, cursed to believe and follow every word he said, cursed to refrain from thinking too much, to question things, cursed to be clueless. For years.

Feyre thought it was an act. How you looked at everything so positively and nothing could go wrong but then she knew that it wasn’t.

It was never an act, you truly were clueless, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just another one of Tamlin’s victims.

Thats why Feyre gave you a chance. Besides the fact that everything seemed to go over your head, you are a nice, caring, empathetic female. After she was Made, Feyre gravitated more towards you, preferred your company over Ianthe's, sought you out after arguing with Tamlin or Lucien and while you never understood what she had gone through, the trauma and burden she carried (because of the curse), you never turned her away.

Tamlin had noticed how deep your friendship had gotten. And since he knew Feyre was to be taken away at one point by Rhysand because of that stupid bargain, he knew he had to turn you against Rhysand so you could in turn continue to feed into Feyre’s apprehension of the High Lord of the Night Court. How did he do that? He told you the truth...well, some of it.

He revealed the death of your family. He emphasized how merciless it had been and how Rhysand was the only one to blame.

You cried...for hours you wept and screamed. Your mother, your beautiful mother was dead all this time. You had thought she was off in another court with your father accompanying him with some lord duties but instead she had been murdered in cold blood, and you didn't even know.

Feyre knew then that she much preferred to see you smiling and laughing than to see you so heartbroken, to hear your cries was devastating.

And Tamlin had succeeded.

You became so incredibly fearful of the Night Court’s High Lord that you begged Feyre to break the bargain, to never look his way, to hate the cruel and soulless male who had taken your family away from you. And in return, Feyre had hated Rhysand, hated him so much for making you cry, for dimming your light. She also had fallen under Tamlin’s trap. But of course, that all changed.

It changed when it didn't get any better for Feyre, when Tamlin’s actions were feeding into her pain, when he locked her inside the Manor. You of course had no idea he had done this; you didn't even recall when Morr had rescued her. You heard the explosion and when you arrived at the scene, Feyre was already gone. Tamlin had been furious and told you Rhysand was to blame, that he had kidnapped your friend and that he had to find and bring her back.

You, of course thanks to the curse, believed him and you were extremely worried for her. Fear ran through your body and you prayed everyday to the Mother that no harm would come to her, that she weren’t suffering your mother’s fate.

Months passed and you remained none the wiser to what was happening outside the Manor’s walls. Whispers of war roomed the halls, some kind of Hybern involved, you hardly saw your stressed brother. Lucien being the one to accompany you at times for dinner. But he never revealed anything, of the war, of Feyre and you continued to stay clueless and out of the loop.

It wasn’t like you didn't want to know or that you didn't try. You did, you tried to ask around, to the servants, the sentries, but they all knew the spell you were under and knew better than to reveal anything Tamlin didn't want you to know. And you hated it. You felt so frustrated that you were doing meaningless things around the Manor while your friend, your only friend, was off in another court probably being tortured and you weren't doing anything to help her. After Tamlin had popped part of your bubble, you felt the need to be more hands on but you just didn't know where to start. At one point, you tried writing down the whispers you heard, along with questions you had, or any information obtained, and you tried to piece it all together by yourself. But nothing made sense. Nothing would continue to make sense when your brother had the power to take knowledge away from you.

Everything started to change for you with Feyre’s return. You were delighted that she was back, that your brother had rescued her from the Night Court. You hugged her so hard that for a second Feyre had forgotten her plan to ruin Tamlin. She remembered all the time both spent together, remembered and felt the care you had for her. And it was then that she knew that somehow she had to convince you to run away with her, to help you ruin your brother. After all of the things she went through in Velaris, all the knowledge and new perspective she gained, Feyre recognized you to be another prey fallen into Tamlin’s claws.

And you needed to get out. But by then, she didn’t know of the curse that was befallen on you. All she knew is that you believed every little word Tamlin uttered, that you blindly followed his every instruction, and she couldn't believe how she had never pieced the pieces together before. So, with more conviction than ever, under the wards and glamours in her bedroom at the Manor, Feyre told you everything. Of Amarantha's curse, what your family had done to Rhysand, what Tamlin did to her, of Velaris and the Inner Circle, Hybern, her mating bond, her sisters being Made and even of her plans to destroy the Spring Court. Slowly, Feyre took off the blindfold that had been forcedly put on you for decades. She talked and you listened, tears running down your face, for hours. Well into the night and again when the sun came up.

It was extremely difficult to believe her. How could you? When everything she was saying went against everything your brother had told you. Feyre knew that risk, that you wouldn't believe her but she held nothing back. She answered all your questions, worries and even hugged you.

You promised Feyre you wouldn't tell a word to anyone of what she had expressed. And you kept that promise but it didn't mean that you still full heartedly believed her. You wanted to, something inside you was screaming that it was the truth and that you had been an idiot to believe Tamlin.

But you couldn't understand, if Feyre was telling the truth then, why Tamlin had lied? Why had he kept so much from you? Tamlin, your older brother who fiercely protected you when you were a child, would read to you at nights, played with you, gave you attention when the rest of your brothers only ignored you. He was your favorite brother, your first hero, the first male you had told ‘’I love you’’ too. How can you change this image you have of him so fast when for all of your life he had been your rock? How can someone who claimed to love you do the complete opposite of love? You couldn't understand.

But then you remembered he lied about your family’s death, kept that from you. And using the same train of thought then that means, yes he could have hid so much more from you. And before making any decision in regards to following Feyre, you tried, just one more time, to get information out of your brother.

You asked him one question ‘’How did you find Feyre?’’.

He had looked up at you and said : ‘’It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s here now and that she’s safe. Keep her company and help in whatever she needs. You will do that right, sister?’’.

The spell made you nod without you even being aware that you were nodding and replied ‘’Of course, brother. I will help Feyre with anything she needs.’’

He smiled and dismissed you.

That did it for you. You couldn't explain why you had accepted his truth so fast, why you didn't question him further, why your mind seemed to be battling itself. It was maddening.

And so, you agreed to be part of Feyre’s plan to run away. She told you she was to accompany Lucien, the twins and Jurian to the forest. As per usual, you were expected to stay in the Manor while everyone did, well, everything else. But this time, when everyone left, you were to grab a bag with essentials and leave. Feyre pointed out a meeting spot where you were to wait for her there and then continue the path to the Night Court.

It was the most terrifying thing you had ever done.

‘’What about my guard?’’ You asked her, worried about your escape since Tamlin had appointed a sentry to be your guard whenever he or Lucien weren't in the Manor.

‘’I’ll take care of it. Just meet me there and wait. No matter what you hear, wait for me there. I will come find you, I promise’’.

And she had been right. Whatever she had done to your guard well, she took care of it since there didn't seem to be any near you, making your exit far smoother than you expected. Even if inside you were terrified, every neuron in your brain screamed at you to go back inside the Manor and wait for Tamlin. But you pushed through, for Cauldron’s sake did you push through. Every step away from the Manor, from Tamlin seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, making it hard for you to continue, as if there was an invisible force trying to pull you back (the curse).

When you made it to the meeting point you cried. You were feeling an immense amount of fear of this new life you were heading towards to. You were also feeling proud of yourself for committing and making it there but then the fear came back when hours went by and there was no sign of Feyre. You waited, just like you said, no matter if you were terrified of being alone in the woods. In the same woods you now knew ran part of Amarantha’s creatures. You were honest to the Mother about to piss yourself out of fear when you heard her. Feyre, she was coming. And she was not alone.

Lucien ran with her and they both looked worse for wear. You barely managed to speak when she grabbed your hands and urged you to run, tagging you along with them. You saw Lucien’s expression; he was probably confused by your involvement in all of this and he was worried of what would happen to you since he knew of the limitations of the curse. And yet, he stayed quiet and ran along with you both.

It was extremely hard for you to keep along with them. They were fighters, they were fit, they’ve been in battle before, but not you. You were just..well...a princess. You knew nothing of survival or fighting skills and they all knew that but they also knew they couldn't stop if they wanted to stay alive, to fulfill Feyre’s plans.

And made it you had.

With some great trouble along the way involving Lucien’s brothers but thankfully two Illyrian soldiers quite literally fell from the sky and rescued the three of you out of there.

Azriel and Cassian, Feyre had introduced.

And you of course took one look at them and nearly fainted. You were trying so hard not to show your fear but knew you were failing spectacularly. You’ve heard of their kind, from your father and Tamlin, of how ruthless they were, how they had no respect for females and enjoyed tearing them apart. But no, Feyre trusted them, had expressed there was nothing to fear, that they wouldn't harm you. And while everything inside you that was holding you back in Spring was telling you that it was a lie, you tried and believed her.

And now here you were. In this city you’ve never heard of, in a court where only bad things have been said, with only two other faes you knew, surrounded by others who apparently aren't evil at all. After all, in their eyes, you were the evil one, you were the villain in their story.

You met them all, the inner circle and they all stared at you. It was clear that they didn't trust you nor Lucien. But the way they treated you was different. With you it was like they didn't know how to treat you, as if they didn't know what to do with you. And well, you didn't know what to do with you either.

You were a fool, a useless fool.

They figured that out the moment Morrigan began asking questions and all you did was stare at her, mouth a bit open. Because of course, you didn't know the answer to any of her questions and you could see they were growing exasperated with you.

They all showed it differently. Rhysand hadn't met your eye once since you’ve been in the room, his jaw firm and looking anywhere else but you. The Morrigan vividly rolled her eyes at you and instead moved her attentions to Lucien. A smaller female than you with silver glowing eyes had taken one look at you and shook her head. Cassian, the big male with long hair and red jewels, was openly glaring and eyeing Lucien with distaste. And then, Azriel.

The most handsome male you’ve ever seen in all your life. While Rhysand and Cassian were also handsome, Azriel was a different type of handsome. One you couldn't quite explain. The best way your heart could capture it was by thinking that he was like the prince you always thought you’d end up married to. The handsome male described in those romance books you read. The one you hoped had a dazzling personality you longed for, to swept you off your feet and leave you breathless. And he did definitely leave you breathless but not in the way a female wants.

Right off the bat you’ve noticed that Azriel was quiet, the quietest of them all. He seemed to be analyzing everything, blending into the shadows that followed his every breath. And although he hadn't spoken your way once, his body language screamed that he wanted nothing to do with you.

And that hurt.

These people didn't owe you anything. On the contrary, you were the one invading their home, their safe space, you were the enemy so the least you could do is...what? Exactly what were you expected to do?

This only seemed to aggravate you further.

They don't know you, they don't know your heart, quite frankly besides existing, you’ve done nothing to harm any of them. Your hands and your heart were clean. And you didn't know this but that is exactly why Azriel, Rhysand and the rest had a hard time looking your way and accepting you.

You’ve done nothing. While they’ve gone through hell and back, what have you done? In their minds, you’re just a perfect little princess that can do no wrong.

And were they? Were they wrong? They weren't. Tamlin made sure you stayed pure, innocent, protected from danger so that you didn't need to lift a finger if you ever needed anything. But that was it, all your life had been dictated by someone else. Your thoughts, opinions and ideals were implanted by Tamlin.

It was time to start thinking of your own, to start creating a life of your own without Tamlin’s influence.

Without his curse.

The curse that only Lucien knew the existence and Feyre suspected of.

It was time to start battling everything you’ve been taught and fight for what you want. While you still needed to figure out what exactly it is that you want, you were going to do it. It was time to prove to yourself and to these new people that you were capable of more, of being more than just a foolish lost princess.

How were you going to do it? You had no idea, but you hope that the beautiful male with hazel eyes and scarred hands would wait long enough for you to give you a chance or perhaps, he could be the one to help you.

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #azriel #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel series #azriel spymaster #tamlin #azriel x tamlin!sister #azriel x oc #azriel x female!reader

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landosjpg · 1 year ago

Text

so high school | ln

the one where you feel like a teenager in love.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: fluff, smut (MDNI, +18), public masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial

note: i’ve been listening to this song on repeat for almost a week now, it’s so catchy and the GTA lyrics made me laugh so i had to write something inspired by it. it’s short but i hope you enjoy :) not proofread

being in love had never been as easy as it was with lando.

you had been in love before, sure, but your heart beat in a different rhythm whenever he was around.

you both had felt the spark between you the very first time you met. you could swear the sound of his laugh would always be your favorite song and something as simple as the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around every damn time.

“come on, tell me again!” your voice was high-pitched, it always was when you were with your boyfriend.

you heard lando let out a chuckle at your insistence, his body spread on the couch as you rested your head on his lap. his hand found yours, fingers entwining under the blanket that covered your body and you gave him a little squeeze, encouraging to tell you once more what you were asking.

“alright, alright,” he facetiously rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from your lips. “i thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”

you had heard his first impression on you about a thousand times before, but it always brought a smile to your face, being reminded of how enamored he was with you since the very first night.

“fuck, i could barely sleep that night because you wouldn’t leave my mind,” and you had felt the exact same thing.

you two had just clicked instantly, your friends surprised at the chemistry of the both of you.

despite of how crowded the club was that evening you met, it had felt like no one was around you. endless conversation and laughs that seemed to never cease lured you away from the presence of everyone else, and when his lips finally met yours hours later you felt your heart exploding. your bodies moulded together as if you were made to each other, smiles and soft giggles breaking the kiss every few seconds.

and wrapped in his arms you felt like you were sixteen again; and admittedly, no one had ever loved you quite like him before.

୨୧

for the almost eight months that you had been together, you and lando had always loved to invite your mutual friends over during the weekend. at the end of the day, they were the reason you two had met in the first place, and there weren’t enough words in the english language to just show how grateful you were.

every few saturdays all of you would reunite in your —his —living room, a few bottles of alcohol and snacks set on the tea table as you played some stupid drinking game. after that, you would just play the first movie that one of you could think of, lights off as everyone settled either on the couch or, most likely, on the floor, a little too tipsy to even bother getting comfortable.

that night it was american pie playing on the big screen as you cuddled into your boyfriend’s embrace under the soft blanket; it was chilly, the cool summer freeze making you need to cover the bare skin of your legs.

you softly sighed as your leaned your back to his chest as his arms circled around you; and then one of his hands was creeping under the blanket, fingers gently brushing the skin of your thighs.

you smiled at the comfort of his warmth, eyes fixed on the screen mindlessly.

but lando had had a little too much to drink that night, so his fingers slowly moved up, up, up, until they found the seam of your shorts. and the innocence of his previous touch was immediately thrown away the second you looked up to his face, eyes furrowed in confusion, just to meet his smirk.

“what are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, your thighs closing together as he tried to get closer to where he knew you wanted him.

and he shushed. that sly grin of his not leaving his lips.

you bit your lower lip and complied, legs slowly giving him access to your core as your eyes went back to the movie. with slow, teasing movements, he managed to push your shorts and your panties to the side, fingers finding the nub of your clit with ease. this was the most patient you had ever seen him, the tip of his digits slowly rubbing circles on you as he pretended to watch that stupid movie, not even looking at you.

your breath got heavier and unsteady as he touched you at a tauntingly pace, inaudible to everyone else thanks to the loud volume of the tv.

but when he slid his fingers down your folds, coating them in your slick before slowly pushing two of them into your hole, you couldn’t help a gasp from escaping your lips.

you felt your face heating up when the sound earned a look from some of your friends, and you tried your best to cover it with a chuckle. that scene better had been funny, you thought.

lando, however, seemed to find your situation hilarious. you looked up at his smile as he kept fucking his fingers into you slowly, and you could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.

as the seconds passed, stifling your sighs was getting harder and harder, your walls already clenching around your boyfriend’s digits. your fingers wrapped around his wrist, warning him that you were close, and that’s when he stopped.

the withdrawal of his fingers almost made you whine, and you shot a glance at him, this time, a disappointed one. he seemed to like how you responded, because his smile widened and he lowered his head to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

“later, baby. i want to hear those pretty sounds you make when you come,” he whispered into your ear before leaning back on the couch again, shamelessly cleaning his fingers on your thigh and leaving you craving his touch even more.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 smut

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dylobilysmomg · 1 year ago

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Motel Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.

“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.

The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”

Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.

“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.

“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.

Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.

“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.

“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.

Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.

I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.

“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.

“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.

“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.

“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.

“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.

“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.

I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.

“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.

After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.

It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.

“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.

I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.

Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.

The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.

I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.

“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%

He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.

I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.

“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.

We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.

I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.

“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?

“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.

“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.

He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.

“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.

“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.

“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.

He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.

Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.

I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”

Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.

I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.

“I could never hate you, baby.”

Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.

I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.

“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.

Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.

Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.

My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.

He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.

“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.

Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.

“Say it again.”

“Stiles.”

“Again.”

“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”

“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.

“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”

“Then do it.”

I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.

He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.

Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.

He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?

When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.

As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.

It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.

“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.

“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.

!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!

“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.

I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.

𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨

𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒

#dylan obrien #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien masterlist #ponyboi

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usomads · 6 months ago

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Never Have I Ever // Jey Uso x Reader

Author's Note -> So I had this interesting little idea and figured I'd write it out for y'all... not sure how I feel about it yet but lmk if you like it 🤭 Oh! I have a masterlist now too, so you can check out some other stories I did recently :) happy reading!

Plot -> An innocent game leads to a new first, and new love.

Pairings -> Jey Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Drinking, Cursing, Hickies, Oral (Fem!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.3k

Game Night. The one night a month where you, Josh, Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina could have a night to yourselves. No kids, no wrestling events to stress over, just drinks and quality time with your people. You met them through work, and although you were part of the production crew you ended up clicking with them right away. Whenever you all were inevitably on the road for shows, you traveled together, stayed at the same hotel, ventured the cities together, you had basically become part of the family.

Game Night originally started as a couples get-together for Jon, Trin, Joe, and Galina but seeing as you and Josh were always around they happily extended the invitation to you two, despite both of you being single.

You were close with everybody in the group, but yours and Josh’s relationship was by far closer than the relationships you had with the others. Josh was the first WWE superstar to greet you on your first day on the job, showing you around and helping you get acclimated to your new work environment. Within the span of a couple weeks he was inviting you to family events, and the rest is history.

After helping yourself to a mixed drink in Joe and Galina's kitchen, you made your way back to the living room where everyone was congregated as they were trying to figure out the next game to play. “Why don’t we spice it up?” Trin suggested, “how about a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

“Jesus, Trin. What are we, high schoolers?” You chimed in, “Might as well get a bottle out and start spinning it too.”

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, live a little,” she teased, “Sounds to me like you’ve got some secretssss!”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Start already, before you kill my buzz.”

One by one everyone started taking turns going in a circle stating things they hadn’t done before; some sexual, some embarrassing, and some targeted to get certain players to put their fingers down. After a few rounds everyone in the group only had one finger remaining, and it was your turn. All you had to do was give one confession and everybody would be out of the game, making you the winner. You being as competitive as you were, you saved the best one for last. And you knew it would get everyone out. “Okay umm,” you paused dramatically even though you knew what you were going to say, “Never have I ever… received head.”

You smiled triumphantly as one by one, the group started putting down their fingers. Choruses of “Wowww, you had to go there,” “That’s so unfair,” and strings of curses came from everybody. Everybody except Josh.

“Nah, uce. That means nobody wins. Ma, the whole point of the game is to say somethin’ you haven’t done. You gotta put a finger down.”

“I know the rules, Josh,” you retorted, “I did say something I haven’t done. Which means I win.” “Wait, wait, wait. Girl, you’ve never had a man eat you out?” Trin asked shocked, her question making everyone realize what you had just said.

Josh interjects before you can respond, seemingly annoyed, “She has, Trin, she’s bullshittin’ rn. Because there ain’t no way-”

“There is a way, Josh, because it hasn’t happened. I’ve never had a man go down on me.”

Waves of shock cascaded across the room at your response. How could you go your entire adult life without getting your pussy eaten? It’s actually fairly easy, just sleep with shitty dudes that don’t wanna reciprocate and there you have it. You’ve experimented a little bit within your sex life, but something as elementary as getting head was something you had yet to check off your bucket list? You can’t really blame everyone for being so surprised about it, shit you probably would be too if you were in their shoes. It seemed like with every second the group sat with this new revelation more and more questions were getting asked, almost an overwhelming amount.

“Okay okay chill, damn. Didn’t realize I was playing ‘truth or dare’ all of a sudden,” you joked before shifting to a more serious tone, “But yes, I’ve sucked dick before. Yes, I’ve been fingered. No, I’m not bullshitting. And yes, my taste in men is ass. Haven’t found a single one that wants to go down on me, yet they expect me to go down on them. Crazy I know, but it is what it is. Men ain’t shit apparently. Now there, did I cover everything?”

“So…,” Jon piped up, “What the fuck y’all be doin’ then? Just straight to pound town and that’s it? No warm up?”

“Pound town is crazyyyy,” you laughed, “But not exactly. Actually, I can break down every time I’ve ever had sex with somebody. It all follows the same steps: kiss on each other for a bit, take all our clothes off, I’ll suck his dick, we fuck, he cums, and then it’s over with.”

“Wait, girl, are you saying you’ve never cum during sex? If that’s what you’re saying honey, I’m sorry, but we gotta find you a fuckin’ man. No more of these boys that you’re messin’ with.” Galina asked.

“Oh, no, I have before. Just a handful of times though, most of the time I’ve gotta finish myself off after. Can’t really expect me to finish if you don’t warm me up a bit, you know?” You responded.

“Man, what the fuck is wrong with this generation? Giving your girl head should be a requirement, these boys you’re fuckin’ with are weird as fuck, Y/N, my girl’s right. We gotta find you a real man,” Joe stated.

“Oh, trust me, I agree with y’all. It’s why I just stopped having sex altogether; Imma have to finish myself off anyways, might as well not waste my time.”

“Y/N, babes, how fuckin’ long has it been since you’ve gotten dick?” Trin asked, anxiously waiting for your answer.

“Um…” Wow, you really had to think about it. “If I remember right, then around Christmas time…” “Oh, so less than a year then. For a second there I thought-”

“Of 2022,” you interrupted. Man, if earlier was chaotic, this new confession was fucking bedlam. Everyone seemed to be losing their minds, except Josh, who had stayed silent and kept his eyes locked on you throughout this entire exchange.

“Alright, alright, yes I get it. It’s insane, I know. It is what it is, I guess. But as much as I’d love to continue sharing about my travesty of a sex life, I desperately need another drink. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?” Everyone started listing their drink of choice, and you were having a hard time keeping up with it all, until Josh spoke for the first time since your revelation.

“I’ll just come with you, seems like everybody needs something right now. You’re gonna need help carrying everyone’s shit.” You smiled at him, silently thanking him, but he didn’t say a word- he just followed closely behind you to the kitchen. You immediately went into bartender mode, making everyone’s drinks to bring back to the living room, but Josh stood still watching you from the entryway of the kitchen- still not talking.

“Hey, Josh, you mind helping me make a couple drinks real quick? I need some help over here,” you chuckled, but stopped when you noticed he wasn’t responding and turned to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about you not getting your needs met? You know I would’ve helped you out, ma,” Josh asked, closing the distance between you two.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to finish making everyone’s drinks. “Helped me? What does that even mean? Look, I really don’t wanna talk about this right now, so can we put this convo on the back burner until the night is over with? Good, now help me carry these drinks back to the living room, would you?” You sighed, grabbing a few cups before brushing past him to head back to the group- leaving Josh alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

After a couple more games and a few more drinks, it was time for everyone to head out for the night. You rode to Joe’s house with Josh, who you hadn’t talked to since the conversation earlier in the kitchen. You were crashing there for the night, 1. Because you knew you’d have a drink too many and wouldn’t be able to drive, and 2. Because staying over at each others’ houses was a common occurrence nowadays. You both said your goodbyes to the group and headed back to his place. The car ride was silent, neither of you talking to the other and only the low hum of whatever songs were on Josh’s playlist. You stared out of the window the whole car ride, watching the blur of the city lights pass by and replaying you two’s conversation in your head over and over. What did he mean by, “I would’ve helped you out?” How would he have helped you?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the car pulling into Josh’s driveway and being put in park. Josh got out quickly, while you sat for a second to let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Well, here goes nothing.

You got inside and went to take your jacket and shoes off, barely getting yourself situated before Josh spoke.

“So, are you ready to talk about it now or are you just not gonna address it?” Sigh, here we go.

“What is there to address, huh? All I did was tell the truth, I haven’t had a guy go down on me before. I don’t really understand what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that you should’ve told me about this a long time ago,” Josh replied, “If you had told me I could’ve done something about it.”

“Done something about it? How, Josh? What could you have possibly done about it? It doesn’t even matter and honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so worked up over it.”

“Oh, c’mon Y/N, don’t act stupid. You know damn well if I had known about it I would’ve offered to be your ‘first’.” Sorry, what? You blinked hard, trying to make sure you heard him correctly. “Shit, as far as I’m concerned, offer’s still on the table,” his voice lowered, making slow strides towards you and backing you into the door, “What kind of ‘best friend’ would I be if I didn’t make sure you were taken care of, hmm?”

You shivered at his words, feeling the lust that was oozing from his words engulf the space between the two of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined Josh like this before. Hell, he’s who you think about when you’re touching yourself at night. Sure, he was attractive, but lately you’d developed feelings for the man. You craved him in more ways than one, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually end up in this position- trapped between him and the door while he dragged his fingers along your sides, trailing further and further down…

“So, what’s it gonna be,” he paused, his hand finally reaching your core and rubbing you through your leggings you were wearing. He groaned, feeling your wetness that had soaked through now pooling on his fingers. “You gonna let me take care of you baby?” He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Imma eat this pussy in every room of the house mamas, make you cum in every one of ‘em too. All you gotta do is say the word.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire. The sultriness in his voice had you ready to completely give yourself to him. You had completely soaked through your leggings at this point, and were convinced if they weren’t so restricting you’d be dripping wet for him. You had a choice to make: let him take you right here and raise some question marks surrounding your friendship, or decline his offer and leave yourself hot and bothered? Lucky for you, your voice made the decision before your mind did.

“Please, Josh, please.”

That was all it took for him to smash his lips into yours; desperately but passionate, lovingly yet intense. Your tongues battled for dominance while the two of you hastily removed any article of clothing separating you, craving to feel the warmth of each others’ skin with nothing in the way. Both of you were now left in just your undergarments, relentlessly kissing each other like your lives depended on it. His lips made their way to your neck, leaving trails of hickies in their wake. You moaned his name and fisted his hair with each one he created, trembling with every graze of his teeth or lick of his tongue.

“You… have no idea… how long… I’ve wanted this,” he muttered in between each bruise he made. Your head was thrown back against the wooden door, relishing every moment.

“Me too,” you breathed out, and it was the truth. You had only recently come to terms with seeing him as more than your best friend, but deep down you knew your feelings had begun months prior. He was all you ever thought about, and here you were, melting underneath him as he ensured not a single inch of your body went untouched by his lips.

His hands traveled to the back of your thighs and by pure instinct you jumped into his arms, holding you tightly as he carried you to your first stop: the kitchen. Josh laid you down on the island countertop, goosebumps erupting all over as the cold surface touched your skin. You arched your back for him to remove your bra, and once removed, he placed a trail of kisses starting from your breasts and moving down to your sternum, then your stomach, and finally your hips, where the band of your thong rested. Looking up at you, his teeth grazed the soft skin before latching onto the waistband of your thong, before sliding it down your legs. His hands slowly traveled up your calves and to your thighs, spreading them apart to give him a look at what he’s been craving since earlier this evening.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hummed, “And all mine too. Look at how wet you are for me already, baby. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me all this time, ma.” And with that he lowers his head and licks between your aching folds, your eyes widening and rolling to the back of your head the moment his mouth makes contact. He hungrily attacks your folds as your fingers weave themselves into his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. The moans coming from your mouth are uncontrollable, repeating his name over and over as you fall further into oblivion.

“Tastes so sweet, baby girl, could eat you for every meal.” His words vibrate through your core and your pussy flutters. You inadvertently buck your hips but his arm stops you, holding you down so you can take everything he’s giving you right now. His mouth wraps around your clit, paying special attention to the sensitive bud and you arch your back at the touch- feeling a familiar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach and quickly reaching its peak. “F-fuckk, Josh, feels so good. I’m gonna-”

“Let it out, princess. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.”

Your orgasm rips through you, sending your body into a state you had never experienced before. You were writhing underneath him, holding onto his hair for dear life as your eyes roll into your skull and your back arches off the countertop. Strings of profanities and pants of his name cross your lips, lost in the flood of pleasure stemming from the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. You finally begin to take control of your breathing again, attempting to slow it as your body gives out and lies limp on the marble, completely wiped out. Josh lifts his head to reveal himself, mouth and beard dripping in your wetness. He smiles softly at you, proud that he was the first to eat your pussy and proud that he was able to make you completely fall apart for him. He leans up to you and gives a soft kiss to your lips, before lifting your body from the countertop and carrying you once again. “Oh, baby, I’m not done with you yet. I said I was gonna eat you in every room of this house tonight, and you know I don’t break my promises.”

“Ohh f-fuckk! J-Josh, I- I can’t, I’m-”

“Yes you can, mamas, gimme another one. You can do it, princess.” You were now on your 5th orgasm of the night. Josh had kept his promise alright, making you cum in the kitchen, living room, his office, master bathroom, and now his bedroom. You’d think after that many times a man would be exhausted, but with every time he had made you cum he had gained more energy. It’s like making you cum was his food source, and it was driving him to keep going. Once again you came hard from his mouth and tongue, vision turning white and seeing stars as you hit your orgasm. You were for sure tired, but one thought kept you going: you wanted his cock. Bad.

“B-baby,” you panted, still coming down from your last orgasm, “Please… I want you. Fuck me, please.”

“You just came on my face 5 times, and now you want my dick? Fuck baby, you sure you can take it?” “Fuckk yes, Josh, just please… I need it, baby. I can handle one more.”

Josh takes off his boxers and climbs on top of you, passionately kissing your lips as he pumps his cock and rubs his tip up and down your sensitive pussy, making you whimper into the kiss. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby girl. Imma take good care of you, I promise. You ready for me, baby?”

You nod, staring into his eyes as he slowly enters you. You cry out as his cock fully fills your pussy, already close to cumming again.

“Fuck, Y/N, so fuckin’ tight. Taking me so well,” he hisses, slowly thrusting inside of you. He wraps your legs around his waist and peppers kisses on your forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips, whispering praises to you as he slowly pumps in and out of you. Your pussy tightens around him, signaling you’re close, making him moan loudly in response. “Shitt, do that again, mamas. Squeeze my shit just like that, gonna make me fuck you full of my cum, baby.” You dig your nails into his shoulders and moan in response, “Is that what you want, baby girl? You want Daddy to fill you up ‘til you’re dripping my cum? Want me to cum deep, don’t you baby?”

“F-fuck… oh my god… please, Daddy. Want your cum in me so fuckin’ bad… s-shitt, Josh, I’m so-”

“Go ahead and soak this dick, pretty girl. I’m there too, baby. Cum for me.”Any energy you had saved was completely wiped out, coming undone again for him as he buried his face in your neck and pumped you full of his cum. Both of your moans echoed in his room, engulfing you two as you fell apart together. Josh collapses on the bed next to you, you both breathing heavily, and silent. Nothing needed to be said, as you nestled into his side and drifted to sleep with only one thought on your mind: Never have I ever… well now I have… and more.

#jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x you #jey uso x reader #jey uso x y/n #main event jey uso #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe smut

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marydoyouwrite · 1 month ago

Text

Make It Up To You

PAIRING: sugardaddy!Yuta x lawstudent!Reader

GENRE: smut, angst

SUMMARY: With dreams larger than life, Y/n dips her feet in unchartered territory. She comes in wanting nothing else but to make her dreams of becoming a lawyer come true, only to be woken up by reality once the midnight clock strikes. Now she's gotten greedy. She wants both her dream and her sugar daddy back.

WARNINGS: There is sex, yes, but I think I wanted to focus on warning everyone of the emotions that come with this piece! There's a lot of inner conflict happening. Yuta uses pet names like baby, sweet girl, and princess. Hair pulling and overstimulation are present.

enjoy!

8.5k word count

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“Being the firm’s youngest partner is what you’re turning your back on, are you sure about this?”

You look out the window of the conference room you’re in and then at the glass of bourbon on the table top. You play with the rim of the glass before bringing it to your lips to take a sip. The drink brings a gratifying burn down your throat.

You set the glass back on the table and looked out the window again, eyeing a particular building in the sea of concrete spread around the city. Then you turn to look at Suho, the firm’s senior partner, straight in the eye, “I’ve never been surer.”

Suho sighs and walks to where you are, “You’re the best we ever had. But you have too much talent to be pinned down in one place. So go ahead.”

You give your boss of five years a grateful smile, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“The doors to the firm are always open for you, Y/n. Remember that,” he adds.

And you will remember it. But now, your head is set on finally staging the reunion you’ve been yearning for for the past five years. To put yourself again within the circle of the only man you burned for – Nakamoto Yuta. Nothing and no one can stop you anymore, not even hell.

–Blooming–

It was the summer before you started law school when you met Yuta. You were running the counter in a high-end bar a few blocks away from Harvard, serving drinks to what you can only assume to be senior law students of the crimson-branded university by the way they were discussing their review subjects for the next semester. And this is exactly why you fought to get this part-time job. Partly because you needed money and partly because of the crumbs of legal knowledge that you know will come in handy when it’s your turn to study.

Even if you’re not going to Harvard, you can’t wait for school to start. You had no support, no fall back, no rich parents to shell out cash for crimson education. Despite all that, you figured you were going to chase your dream of becoming a lawyer even if you can’t get into your dream school.

“One whiskey on the rocks please,” the gentleman starts “with your number on the side, kindly.”

You stare at the patron in front of you, your eyes raking over the sharp features of his face. His eyes, his nose, his jawline. Everything is devilish – that’s the word you’re going to use to describe him, devilishly handsome.

“Uh,” you clear your throat, “I’ll get that drink started for you. As for my number, that one might rack up your bill.”

“I’m not one to worry about bills, darling,” he answers with an upward curve on his lips.

You heard about this myth before. Rich young men scouring through bars and libraries, looking for desperate pretty girls to fund and blow wealth for. Desperate is what you are. Pretty? Arguable.

“Well, that makes one of us,” you retort as you finish preparing his drink. “One whiskey on the rocks, without my number on the side.” The man laughs at your spice and the kick of innocence it comes with. It’s painstakingly obvious to him that this is your first rodeo and he doesn’t mind.

“I’m Yuta,” he offers before taking a sip of his drink and sliding a crisp five hundred dollar bill across the counter, “For my bills.” And just like that, he’s walking away from you, leaving you in slight surprise, thinking this is the biggest tip you’ve ever received.

But that night wasn’t the last time you’ll see Yuta.

The gorgeous man became a regular. For the next few days, he kept buying just a single drink, barely sipping it, and then leaving a hefty cash for his ‘bill’ which is 400% more than what he has to pay.

“Yuta, sir, you have to stop giving me so much tips,” is what you finally told him one time, only to receive a, “But those aren’t tips. It’s my show of gratitude for allowing me to look at such a pretty sight.”

Then days became weeks and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him. His presence has become a comfortable staple during your shifts, especially when he’s such a smooth talker. Saying the right words, initiating the right conversations. You’ve become so comfortable you finally gave him the side he ordered the first time you met – your number, free of charge.

“If you give me a ridiculously high tip tonight, I’ll take my number back.”

“Come on, pretty girl, that’s not who I am.”

“Then… just 10% is enough,” you said. Yuta lets out a full grin at the compromise you offer, only to order a $2,000 whole bottle of expensive ass wine. You just shook your head at his antics, looking forward to when he’ll put your number into good use.

You didn’t have to wait long because the moment you clocked out, you received a text message from an unknown number.

Free to take a call now? -Y

Instead of replying, you called the number, knowing full well who it belongs to. Not a second later, the person on the other line picks up.

“How did you know my shift is done?”

“I just do,” he answers, “Your voice sounds even prettier like this, when it’s close to my ear.” you fix the strap of your bag on your shoulders to deflect the warm feeling brought by his compliment.

“Why did you want to call me?”

“Let me take you to dinner, princess. Tomorrow night at 7PM. You don’t have to prepare anything, it’s going to be just dinner.”

“Just dinner?” you confirm while biting your lip. Truth be told you saw this coming. You can smell wealth emanating off of Yuta from a mile away. The way he speaks, the drinks he orders, his every movement is a type of refined you can’t learn, no. It was a birth rite he earned.

And while Yuta has been nothing short of a gentleman towards you, in his world, you’re not the type of person he’s going to settle with. You know all this is just a fun time for him and to be honest, you’re intrigued by it, too. You want to have fun, too. But you have no idea how this works or if you’re even built for this world you’re trying to enter in.

“I promise, just dinner. And talking.” He says assuringly.

“O-Okay.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

But Yuta didn’t just pick you up. He bought and sent you a new dress, a new pair of shoes, and a pair of earrings that you’re afraid to google how much because you want to maintain a normal blood pressure.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet and uneventful, partly because you’re stunned to see how Yuta looks like in the open and under better lighting. At the bar, you can barely see his features, but even so, you already knew he looks so beautiful. But now, you’re gutted and blown away. You can’t help but steal glances at him and you know he notices it based on the subtle smirk he sports every time you turn your head to him.

“I’m glad to see you’ve taken a liking to my face,” he says and you choke on your saliva because you didn’t expect him to address it.

“You’re not so bad,” is all you can offer and Yuta chuckles at your attempt to hide your true feelings.

“We’re almost there.”

And true to his promise, in just a few minutes, you’re pulling up to a fancy restaurant with lots of light and posh cars parked in the driveway. Once fully parked, Yuta goes out and opens the door for you. You take his hand stretched out to help you and observe the scenery before your eyes.

The restaurant had an open garden with a big fountain. The location was overlooking the city and away from all the noise and pollution, something you’ve been used to your whole life. If what you’re seeing is a foreshadowing of what’s about to happen during dinner, you guess you’re not mad.

Once you enter the place, the receptionist brings you to a semi-secluded table. There was enough privacy for you and Yuta if that’s what he was aiming for. So when you’re both fully seated, you decide you don’t have to beat around the bush.

“Why did you ask me out for dinner?”

Yuta was not shocked at all. He fully expected questions from you. “Been wanting to take you out for dinner since the first time I saw you,” he offers.

“Okay, but,” you blow out a sigh before continuing, “Can I be honest?”

“Of course, I expect you to be.”

“I know what this is, okay? Do you want me to be your sugar baby?”

“Smart girl,” Yuta muses. “How can I get you to say yes, then?” He inquires. He absolutely knows you’re in on this. You just needed to set some things straight, but he already knows you’re on board.

“Well first, I can’t with the lavishness.”

“You can’t with the lavishness.” Yuta repeats in a declarative tone, urging you to clarify.

“Yes, I can’t. I just,” you take a pause, a deep breath because you can’t believe what you’re about to say. But you’re determined to say it. If Yuta wants to have his fun, you’ll gladly play. But not without advancing your own interests, too.

“Go on, darling.”

“I just –, I have an approved law school application with Harvard. But I’ve enrolled in a different law school instead. Somewhere I can afford. But Harvard is where I want to be. So, instead of earrings and dresses like this,” you said pointing to the beautiful piece you have on, “Use your money to fund my education.” You said in one breath.

You study Yuta’s face. There's a hint of growing interest in his eyes and something more that you can’t name. He adjusts on his seat before speaking, “Y/n, I’ll fund Harvard,” he starts, “But that’s not all I’ll fund. Since you said your piece, my piece is that I get satisfaction out of seeing you spoiled. I need you pampered in every possible way. Without you giving that to me, I’m out.”

“Well, okay. But not outrageous.”

“Not outrageous,” he assures. “Was that all you wanted to say?”

“Didn’t think you’d agree so quickly,” you said quietly.

“Being a lawyer – that’s a dream worth supporting, baby girl.” You look up to meet his eyes, the sound of the new endearment making your insides swirl.

“I also wanted to add,” you fidget your fingers at this next bit, “About sex… when? And uh, how often?”

Yuta subtly rubs his lower lip with his forefinger. First, your adorable gestures. Then, your drive and determination. Now, talking about sex with him. Yuta’s convinced you were born to drive him insane.

“Why don’t we settle on a natural pacing? There doesn’t have to be a set date, just when you feel it’s good for you. This doesn’t have to be strictly transactional.”

“It doesn’t?”

Yuta chuckles, “It doesn’t. I only have one condition on this.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“The day you become a lawyer is the day we part ways.”

—

You recall your first dinner with Yuta like it was just yesterday. But time flew by so quickly. It’s been five years since that summer. All the time you spent with him was nothing short of blissful. Yuta has spoiled the hell out of you, giving you whatever you want and whatever you need, even his cock.

In your first semester, when you first experienced the infamous baptism of fire during a recitation that followed the socratic method, you were sobbing in the hallway, walking mindlessly out of Langdell Hall. Once you were out of the building, Yuta’s car was already waiting for you with his window down and a cup of your favorite drink in his hand– something that made you sob even more.

In the short while you’ve been his sugar baby, he’s memorized all the things that comforted you, including the cheap five-dollar tea from your favorite shop down the street.

By the end of your first year, you learned the bitter truth that Harvard law was cut throat in every way possible. Not only were the majority of your peers coming from rich, well-connected families, but they were also the best of the best. You busted your ass off studying day and night. Thanks to Yuta, you no longer had to work. You were provided with anything you needed. Allowance, lodging, tuition, books, everything. And your hard work paid off. You ranked second in the whole batch by the end of the term. But what you don’t have is the smell that emanated from the rich.

You weren’t one to envy, you know the value of hard work. When both your parents died and you were left to fend for yourself, you did. Now that you’re practically living your dream, you force yourself to focus and ignore everything else, but you can’t help but listen in on the conversations during the last day of school. Everyone had something – a vacation home to visit, an internship for their family business, a meeting with the politicians. You felt like a sore thumb and the feeling left a toxic taste in your mouth.

“Hey, princess.” Yuta greets.

“Hi, daddy,” You greet back, melting into him in an embrace. You put your arms around his neck and just settled there for a while. Yuta withheld nothing from you including warm affection.

“That’s not a tone fit for someone who just ranked 2nd in all of this year’s batch?” He says as he rubs the small of your back, taking your bag from you.

“Hmm…”

“Have something for you,” he says. You unwrap your arms around his neck and look up at him. He takes out a cream envelope from his pocket and hands it to you. You open it and inside were plane tickets to your favorite country.

“Iceland?! Are we going to Iceland?” you scream in excitement.

“Yes, we are. It’s your reward for doing so well,” he softly says as he caresses your hair.

“Oh my god,” is all you can say as you reach out to kiss Yuta on his lips.

And just like that, Yuta made sure you stood with confidence.

When everyone was taking internships, he sent you to Japan to intern for the country’s top litigation firm where you spent eight weeks learning and being trained by the best lawyers. You even got a certification for writing and speaking Nihongo. You didn’t realize then, but Yuta’s chest swelled with pride every time you conversed with him in his native tongue.

When everyone got invited to networking events, you were his plus one in every benefit gala and company events attended by all the top businessmen and politicians. And every single time, he introduced you as the brilliant girl soon to be Harvard attorney that caught his attention.

When everyone was pitching in so much money for the batch year-end parties, Yuta sponsored one whole party in your name, flying everyone out to Singapore for 2 days and 3 nights. Yuta told you to say it was from your rich dad because according to him he is your daddy to which you rolled your eyes in response.

And when your stress reached high levels, he made sure to pamper you in ways only he can do. Stuffing your pussy with his monster cock, eating you out until you pass out, giving you orgasms enough to sustain you to eternity. His gentle demeanor is taken over by a beast once you’re in his bedroom, marking every part of your skin, animalistically taking you in every possible position. Yuta made sure you received sex only from the best – him.

Yuta never allowed you to bow your head, instead he always held your chin up. He never let your confidence die down. Because of him, you became unstoppable.

And now, you’re roughly just 5 minutes away from knowing the results of the bar, from being a lawyer. You know you’ll get it. There’s no other possible result but passing it and even potentially topping it. You prepared yourself for the day when you and Yuta have to go your separate ways.

There’s an indescribable pain in your chest.

The day you reach your dream is the day you die.

You love Yuta. How could you not?

But he doesn’t. He made his condition clear. The very day you become a lawyer is the day he disappears. Fuck.

Here you are, in front of your laptop, in the middle of the living room of the penthouse that Yuta gave you, with fingers shaking, you refresh the Supreme Court’s website. While others were out with friends and family, you chose to know about the result alone and inside. Just to privately celebrate what you were about to gain and grieve what you were about to lose.

When the site refreshes, you scroll down to see the names of the passers, the first one belonging to you.

2025 Bar Examination Top 10 Examinees

1. Jung, Y/n …………………… 90.7700%

Just seconds after you see your name, your phone buzzes. It’s a message from Yuta.

“Congratulations, Atty. Y/n. Never doubted you for a second.”

And as your finger hovers over the text, your thumb shakily taps the call icon next to Yuta’s name. You bite down on your lip in hopes that the inevitable won’t happen…

The number you have dialed is now unattended, please try again later.

And you broke down. Yuta is officially gone. In the flurry of congratulatory messages, there you were, mending the brokenness in you that you know will never heal.

– Withering –

After taking your oath as an attorney, you quickly joined the best of the best – Anderson Kim & Tomotsune– the top litigation and commercial law firm in the country with clientele both in US and Asia.

You were both a lion and a bull, a ruthless negotiator specializing in commercial disputes. Your peers call you the merciless closer for closing negotiations far too in favor of your clients, leaving the opposing side with, well, nothing. In your defense, you found every opposing lawyer you faced to be too lazy and negligent causing them to lose out. Meanwhile, you feed on the challenge.

In your 5-year career, you had no losses under your belt, making you the favorite and most sought after lawyer by corporations. Your firm racked three-fold in profits, making it easy for you to climb up the partnership ladder.

But you only had one goal. And today’s the day you reach it.

“Atty. Jung, welcome to Nakamoto Holdings. It’s a pleasure to finally have you join the team,” Johnny Suh, head of legal and your new boss, greets.

“The pleasure is mine, Atty. Suh.”

“Do you have any idea how hard we fought for you? HR had a field day,” Johnny says. You laughed at his remark but inside, you knew how hard Nakamoto fought to get you.

When news that you declined the offer of partnership from Anderson Kim & Tomotsune spread, companies raced to entice you to join them. But you only had Nakamoto Holdings in mind. It only made sense to join the best of the best on your new venture. While you had other motives, you also had pride. Sure there was a bit of a push and pull, leveraging on the uncertainty of your sweet ‘yes’, but all of that was just a part of your ploy, a negotiating skill you learned to get the upper hand.

But now you’re here and you want to see Yuta again.

Just as you were about to continue your conversation with Johnny, the door to the conference room opens to reveal the man in your thoughts.

“Yuta,” Johnny says, as he bows.

You turn to where the door is, find Yuta’s eyes, and give him a full bow.

–

Johnny had told him there was new blood he wanted him to meet. Someone he’ll definitely like, according to Johnny. What his friend failed to mention was that this new blood was you, the girl that took his heart. But maybe the term woman would be a better fit for you. What he sees is no longer the young wide-eyed Y/n from years ago.

In front of him was someone more poised, more confident in the way she carried herself. Your once carefree hair, now flowed in controlled waves, a subtle elegance that matched the sharpness in your gaze. You were wearing something tailored, something that accentuated the shape of your body—making him note the added fullness in your hips.

Your eyes were the most different. They used to be soft, filled with the innocence of someone just beginning to experience the world, now they held an edge—an intensity that came with your reputation. He heard stories about you. Of course, he did. He knew about the young lawyer rising through the ranks, feeding dust to the seasoned.

So it’s not surprising that there was a quiet power in your presence now. And yet, when you met his gaze, there was a flicker of something familiar—a quiet vulnerability, a hint of the girl who he once held close to him.

“Mr. Nakamoto,” you greeted him.

“Atty. Jung.” he acknowledged back.

“You know her already!” his head of legal says.

“I think everyone knows Atty. Jung, Johnny.”

“You’re right. In fact we were just talking about how hard it was to get her.”

“Is that right?”

Yuta sees you shifting from your position, turning your body to face him better.

“Atty. Suh flatters me, it’s my pleasure to join the company,” you tell him while reaching out your hand to offer a handshake.

“We’re glad to have you here,” he responds as he takes your hand in his.

—

“You’re fucking crazy,” Yuta scorns as he takes a drink of his favorite whiskey. The one he ordered the first night he saw you at that bar across Harvard.

“How is getting top talent crazy? Don’t you agree she’s the best in the field right now?” Johnny defends.

“She is. That’s why I’m restraining myself from punching your face,” he tells his friend. “But you know exactly who she is. Don’t fuck around.”

“Ya, I’m not fucking around! And what? Your feelings are getting in the way of business now? So what if she was your sugar baby and the love of your life? That baby is going to lead us to the frontlines.”

“Johnny Suh, you watch yourself. Don’t you damn speak of her name carelessly. I will fucking kill you. Even if you’re my best friend.” The intensity in his eyes sobers Johnny up.

“Damn, you still have it baaad,” Johnny says as he steps out of your office, avoiding the chaos that’s about to befall him.

Yes, he does. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of you. Did he have regrets? Zero. He did what he had to do to make sure you were as whole as a person as you can be.

But a longing? A big one.

Five years ago, Yuta knew you were going to pass the bar. There were no retakes, he absolutely had faith in you. So when he sees your name in the list of passers, bagging the top 1 spot, it comes as no surprise. He was so proud of you and wanted nothing but to engulf you in a hug, spin you around, and pepper your face with kisses. He wanted to celebrate with you and whisper in your ear many times how proud he is of you.

But he had a promise to fulfill.

Yuta was enamored by you but falling in love with you was something he failed to calculate. He only wanted to spoil you, to make you his by offering to be your sugar daddy. But he thought all that would be a passing season in his life. After all, he wasn’t the type to take things seriously. But that summer passed and there came autumn, then winter, but the feeling never left. You were very much still there.

But then again, loving you was easy. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes. Everything about you captivated him. The way your body responds to his every call and every touch sets him on fire. He burns for you, romantic as it may sound. He was very much yours as much as you are his.

But Yuta noticed how you would get quiet. You would look out the car window, deep in thought, letting out a sigh he knows you don’t notice. And he knows that it’s because sometimes, you feel less than what you’re actually worth.

No matter how hard he makes sure that you don’t feel any less than your peers, he knows that he can only do so much. The rest of your healing from feelings of inferiority is yours, and yours alone to make.

So when you finally reached your dream of becoming a lawyer, Yuta knew that the only way was to set you free. For you to achieve every achievement, on your own, without doubting whether or not you did it by yourself or because of him. He did not dare take the opportunity from you even if it came at the cost of his own happiness.

So he settled with watching you from afar. Updating himself with your latest wins.

But now, you’re here. If his gut is right and it was your own doing that brought you back to him, then he will do anything to fucking get you back.

Yuta drinks the last of his whiskey and heads out of his office.

– Budding –

It’s only your first day but you’re already leaving work at 11 p.m. Johnny told you to go home hours ago but even so, you had to ride out your high by organizing everything. Your stuff, your files, your projects in the pipeline. You wanted to make sure you hit the ground running.

As you were walking to your car, you bumped into a wall, only it wasn’t a wall. Because if it was, then you wouldn’t have a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist saving you from a fall.

“Careful,” Yuta says.

After being momentarily stunned by his presence, you quickly separate yourself from him. You adjust your dress and clear your throat.

“T-Thank you.” Fuck, did you have to stutter?

“Are you heading home just now?”

“Yes. I was just working on some stuff, Mr. Nakamoto,” You look at him only to see a confused face.

“Already? You just joined today.”

“Just wanted to do my best,” you say. “I’ll be heading home now, Sir.” You said briefly before bowing and walking to where your car is.

You wanted to get away from him. Being near him was clouding your mind. It was suffocating. You thought you were already stronger than this. You thought you could finally handle anything. And yet, just one touch from his hand has you spiraling again. The unanswered questions in your mind are resurfacing back again. Questions like, did he really have to leave?

Fucking pathetic bitch, is what you thought to yourself. You are exactly that. A pathetic simpering bitch.

Just as you were about to enter your car, a hand grabs your wrist, forcing you to face the culprit.

“What the hell?”

“Let’s talk,” Yuta demands, almost in a pleading tone rather than a demanding one, which is funny because begging is more of your turf than his.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you spat. You feel his grip tighten around your wrist.

“Don’t drag this out, Y/n.”

“Oh, so it’s just Y/n now? We’re back to first names, is that it? Okay if that’s how it is, then, you can’t make me talk to you,” you mock, “daddy.”

You see Yuta seething at your sarcasm. After all these years, you still know how to push his buttons. Your spunk has not faded even one bit and this fact makes Yuta blink in realization. He mellows out at the realization that you are still very much the Y/n he knows. The one with burning questions in her mind.

Yuta blows out the air from his lungs. “Please, Y/n?”

You rashly take your hand back. “Fine,” you relented.

—

You decided talking in the office was a bad idea. With the fountain of emotions bubbling in your chest, you might throw a furniture or two at Yuta’s face and you’d be charged with damage to property. No, thanks.

“I want to talk at my home,” you told Yuta. You needed home court advantage for the conversations that will be had tonight.

It was your plan all along to talk to Yuta. It’s why you wanted to join their company in the first place! But you can’t handle how fast things are unfolding. Didn’t expect that Yuta would be the first one to approach. Definitely didn’t expect this scene of his car tailing yours.

As you reach your home in the shape of a three storey townhouse with a gracious driveway, you brace yourself for what’s to come. Should you remain stoic? Should you put a wall around your heart? Honestly, you haven’t decided.

You park your car and you see Yuta doing the same. You were the first to enter the house so you leave the door open for him. And when he’s fully in, you’re ready to square him.

“It’s a really nice home, Y/n.”

“So what, we’re going to gush over architecture, now?” you mumble as you sink down on your sofa. When you look up, you see Yuta’s tongue poking his cheek, clearly about to lose it, but he’s inside your house. He won’t dare lose it.

“Separating after you became an attorney was the plan all along. You knew that since the beginning,” Yuta calmly starts. He eyes you as he invites himself to sit on the chair across you, leveling the field between the two of you.

And you just stare at him. So many words pooling in your mind, constructing arguments, preparing to launch a missile of anger.

But all of a sudden, a foreign feeling washes over you — defeat. There was no winning here. Even if you get to say your piece, the conclusion is inevitable.

It seems that Yuta moved on and you did not. You’re still the mess of a fool who is clearly, hopelessly in love with him. Despite the prestige, the reputation you built for yourself, everything crumbles down in front of him.

You hate it. You abhor it.

You stand from where you’re seated and turn your back away from Yuta, deciding that faking it might be the way to go. Strengthening the dam in your heart might be your saving grace.

“Y/n, talk to me,” he stands, “Baby,” Yuta got to you and held your hand, willing you to face him. And when you do, you explode.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” you shout, “You LEFT me. Immediately dropped me when you had the chance.” The dam, fortified as it may, has reached its limit.

“You did not hesitate, did not bat a damn eye. You never looked back,” you sob and finish in a broken voice.

Yuta looks at you with equal brokenness in his eyes, devastated at where his decision left you. From holding your hands, he holds you in the same manner he has held you before – one arm around you and one hand soothing your back – exactly how you remember it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Yuta croaks.

You punch his chest in an attempt to save yourself. You punch him again to prove a point.

“So why?! Did you hate me that much? Was I so pathetic in your eyes that you couldn’t...” you dropped to the floor and sobbed in frustration. At this point you were just fully letting your heart out. Fuck masking it, fuck hiding it from Yuta. You deserve this, you deserve to let your pain known to the person who inflicted it.

"No, Y/n," Yuta begins to explain as he kneels in front of you. Now both of you are on the floor. He wipes a tear that fell down your cheek. "I'm so proud of what you made for yourself. This is all you. But before, even when you tried to hide it, I saw whenever you thought yourself to be less than everybody," this time Yuta brushes a stray hair away from your face.

"So when you finally became a lawyer, I couldn't rob you of the opportunity to heal. To take full ownership of your life without associating credit to anyone. Even if it meant leaving you, the only girl I loved and truly cared for."

Your lips part at Yuta's sudden confession. You wrap your head around his explanation and you hate how you immediately see reason.

You remember how your confidence solidified throughout the years. No one can put dirt on your name because it was clear as day that your accomplishments were yours and yours alone.

Years of self doubt brought by your background, or lack thereof, went down the drain when you started getting favorable decisions for your clients left and right, when your negotiations closed million dollar contracts.

So, Yuta was right. You did heal that part of your heart. But not without having another hole in it. A desperate yearning that nothing and no one could satisfy.

But there was a point of clarification that had to be made.

"The girl you loved...?"

"Yes, baby. I had to leave you. The girl I loved and still love."

You suck in a breath, "You never called again. You were totally gone."

"And it killed me everyday, sweet girl. Didn't even know I'd get to hold you again like this," he says quietly as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Knew I hurted you. I knew you'd hate me. And god forbid reappearing in your life would open wounds you're trying to heal. So I just watched you from afar," he says as he wipes another tear escaping from your eyes.

"You looked beautiful in your red dress, accepting that award three years ago. Top outstanding young women under 30, was it?” He recalls. You release a tearful chuckle because you were indeed wearing red that night, hoping that Yuta was watching and that the sight of you in a pretty dress would entice him to call you again. He didn’t call but he was watching.

“Let me make it up to you, Y/n. If you’d let me, I’d make up for our lost years all my life.”

You shifted into hugging your knees close to your chest, just quiet and thinking. Considering. But only so slightly because the answer has already been set in stone. You want him so terribly your body aches.

The pressure in the air shifts, anger dissolving and being replaced by something else, a feeling born out of the same passion.

You mumble something from under your breath, half wanting to be heard, half hoping to be hidden.

"Hmm, what was that?" Yuta inquires, angling his head to hear you better. So you repeat yourself, this time your words coming out as a whisper.

Yuta holds the side of your thighs, desperate to make out of what you want, "Can you speak louder, my sweet girl? Tell me what you need."

"I said, then fuck me and break my back!" You said, mortified and frustrated that you had to repeat the same thing thrice. You glare at Yuta who doesn't mirror your expression.

Instead he had a blooming smile on his face, biting his lower lip to stop himself from breaking out into a full grin. He can't help but think how painfully adorable you looked.

But you're right. He had years of stolen intimacy to make up to you. He better get to work and he will.

"I'll make love to you the whole night, baby," Yuta says as he stands. He takes both your hands in his to help you up as well. He takes your face in his right hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"Will do it just the way you like it," he finishes in barely a whisper before he leans down to claim your lips in his.

Yuta's tongue was exploring, memorizing every crevice on your lips, mapping every corner one by one before seeking access.

When his other hand settles on the back of your head angling you to the perfect position, you let out a small whimper granting him access to you. He takes your tongue in his mouth, sucking on it, pouring every bit of his longing into the kiss.

When he separates from you, you were panting. Your lips swollen and irises blown out. Yuta swipes his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Will take my time with you. Make you come on my fingers first, then on my tongue. Will make you come at least twice, or maybe thrice, before I fill you with my cock. Then when you're tired, you can sleep but when you wake up in the morning, you'll find that I'm still inside you, still not done. How's that sound, sweet girl?"

Your lips part at how delicious his plan sounds. You also caught yourself letting out a wince imagining how awful walking will feel tomorrow. But nonetheless you give Yuta a nod.

Yuta kisses you again. This time, you put your arms around his neck, desperate to be near him. He breaks the kiss only to move your hair away from your right shoulder, revealing your neck, giving him a blank canvass to leave open mouthed kisses on.

“Want to see you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, his hand reaching to the zipper at the back of your dress, dragging it down your waist. He peels your dress from you like you were a gift, letting the fabric pool at your feet. You shiver at the feel of the sudden air on your skin.

Yuta takes a step back to take in your form, relishing every curve on your body. It wasn’t his imagination that your hips got fuller. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, if not, even more.

He walks behind you to remove the clasp of your brassiere. He glides it down your arms until it falls and unites with your dress on the floor. You suck in a breath as he places his palm over your stomach to bring you closer to him. His other hand snakes beneath your breast only to ghost his thumb over your nipple.

His hand on your stomach slowly travels south,, finding its rightful place inside your underwear. When he dips his finger into your slit to touch your bud, you put a hand over your mouth to prevent a moan from escaping you.

“Don’t fight it. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” Yuta warns as he fully inserts two fingers inside you, curling them to find the soft spot inside of you. He dips his finger in and out, repeatedly hitting the right spot, settling into a rhythm.

“Yuta, I–,” you said, gasping, wanting to finally get the high only Yuta can bring. You’re unable to form words with the heat of his body grazing against your back and the sinfulness of his fingers working on your core.

But Yuta understood. He thumbs your clit as he continues to scissor and curl his fingers inside of you. His lips pressed against the part of your ear that dips to meet your neck.

The room was filled only with your noises and the wet sounds of his fingers against your flesh. As he sped up, your legs buckled and stomach tightened, indicating that you were very very close.

And Yuta knows this, too. A familiar feeling of your body etched in his memory. The way your face contorts in pleasure and your desperate gasps are indicators that you were about to come undone.

With his other hand, he grabs your breast to fondle you into climax, “Come on baby, be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

And you do, a wave of pleasure hits you at the sound of Yuta’s voice. Your core clenches on his fingers, your chest heaves up and down trying to get enough wind in your lungs, and your knees wobble just a little bit.

Yuta eases out his fingers from you and brings them to his mouth to taste you, “So sweet, want to taste directly from the source.”

Yuta carries you to the sofa but before he can lay you down, you weakly protest, “Bedroom please. The sofa’s real leather.” Yuta lets out a quiet laugh. He considers challenging your protest, to tell you he’ll buy you a new one in the morning because he is impatient. But then this was your home — one that you built through hard work. So he follows.

“Where’s your room, baby?”

“Second floor, first door on the left.”

Yuta carries you up to your bedroom and when he gets inside, he surveys the interior of it.

“Yuta, need you to undress please, need to feel you closer,” you plead.

He places you in the middle of your bed before he steps away just a little bit to remove his shirt. To you it felt like he was unbuttoning his shirt so painfully slow, but in truth you just wanted to feel him skin to skin as soon as possible.

When Yuta was finally out of his top, you felt yourself salivating at the sight. He for sure got bigger than he was years ago. His muscles were more defined now and the veins on his arms were more prominent than how you recalled them to be. When your gaze lands on his hands, you see that his fingers slightly glistened from remnants of his spit and your cum.

“Your pants, too, Yuta, please,” you beg when you see him already coming to you without removing the bottom pieces of his clothing.

“Later sweet girl. Remember what I said? Won’t stuff you with my cock until I’ve made you come at least twice.”

You groan as Yuta hovers above you using his arms as an anchor on both sides of your head. “I won’t go anywhere, I’m yours the whole night and moving forward,” He comforts as he lowers his head to your lower stomach, his fingers toying with the garter of your underwear. He only fiddles with it slightly before ridding you from the last piece of fabric you have on.

Another fire is lit within Yuta as he eyes your soaking core. He licks his bottom lip at the sight before him. With some sweat on your forehead and your hair earlier well put but now carelessly splayed, you are a goddess in his sight.

He plants a kiss where your slit begins, dipping his tongue just slightly to touch your bud. He glides it up and down, flicking it repeatedly, and his movement sends sparks to your body. You arch your back and instinctively try to close your legs at the feeling of his tongue. But Yuta doesn’t let you.

He looks up at you with knitted brows as if to warn you not to get in his way of having his fill. He parts your legs wider with his hands to get a better taste of you. His tongue travels down to wear your entrance is, slurping, sucking your essence. Meanwhile, his thumb pays attention to your clit, tapping it at a mind blowing pace.

Your hips buck at the overwhelming sensations you feel throughout your body. The walls of your room become a silent witness to your vulgar moans, no longer making an effort to stifle it. Your arousal has completely taken over you and you can only shout Yuta’s name over and over again.

Yuta replaces his busy thumb with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your clit, alternating between sucking and licking.

“Oh god!” you cry in a raspy voice. You don’t think you can take it anymore, you might just die tonight from Yuta’s mouth.

You bring a hand to Yuta’s hair only to tug his head closer to you, “M’so close,” you desperately tell the beast drowning himself in your wetness. You know he’s just enjoying himself and that he can take the whole evening just feasting on you.

You draw labored breaths as you brace yourself for another orgasm. What takes you there is Yuta inserting three fingers inside of you, pressing upward and against the opposite side of your clit adding pressure to your lower stomach.

True to his promise, you’re cumming for the second time but this time on his tongue. You writhe under him, legs shaking from the intensity of your high. He continues to lap at your folds and you sob at the feeling of overstimulation.

Weak as you may be, you try to push Yuta’s head away from you only for him to gently take your hand in his and continue slurping you. He doesn’t separate his lips from your core until after another minute. Once he’s done, his lips and chin were glistening from your juice.

Yuta’s eyes don’t leave your wrecked form as he stands to take all of you in, his hands resting on the band of his pants, the outline of his cock pressing against the poor fabric. You don’t want anything more at this moment than for him to fucking take it off already.

“Yuta,” you said breathlessly and with half-lidded eyes, “You fucking owe me time so stop teasing me and remove the damn pants.”

Yuta only smiles at your desperation, thinking its fucking cute. “Do you have condoms for me sweet girl?”

You freeze. Of course he doesn’t have a condom prepared, he couldn’t possibly have expected to have sex with you tonight. Neither did you, to be honest. But the difference between you and Yuta was that you had a plan in play and you made sure you were prepared at the onset. It’s just humiliating that you have to reveal yourself so early in your ploy.

You clear your throat, “You can go raw.” You inform him as you avert your gaze from him, “I’m on the pill.”

Yuta just nods understandingly, having no hint that the fact of your birth control was solely for him.

“No condom?” He asks and you only nod at him. “Fuck.”

Yuta wastes no time and finally removes his trousers. He lifts his feet off the ground only to fully remove the fabric from him. His cock was free at last, rock hard, long, and leaking. You sigh at the view and the fantasy that ran wild in your head.

Yuta ran a fist up his length as he approached you. He dips his head to kiss you and you taste yourself from your lips.

“You look so beautiful,” he praises. “Ready for me?”

You can only nod in anticipation.

“Need to hear you, baby. Can you use your words?”

“Yes, want you, daddy. Need you inside me.”

“Good girl.”

Yuta aligns the head of his cock to your opening, slipping past through the rim, intruding further. You bite the inside of your cheek at the burn of the stretch. Yuta sinks deeper in you and you close your eyes at the feeling of being impaled by something that seemed to be thicker than your forearm. You feel the friction of his skin and veins grazing against the walls of your cunt.

Little by little, Yuta bottoms out and you feel the tip of his cock touching your uterus, sending your body into a jolt. Pleasure and pain mixed so beautifully.

Yuta grunts at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him, “Fuck, you’re so tight around my cock. Nobody fucked this cunt good while I was gone?”

You whimper at his words and shake your head, “Nobody could break me the way you could, daddy.”

“Fuck.”

Yuta finds himself with blooming anger in his chest. It was his choice to leave you, for your benefit, he continues to convince himself. He was the one that let go and yet, the thought of other men knowing you, making you moan, touching you, and leaving remnants of themselves on your skin makes him angry. He had no right, yet he was furious.

With the storm in his heart, Yuta starts to rock himself inside of you. Thrusting his hips slow and deep, doing his best to remove any memory of another man from you. He hooks his hands under your knees to bring your legs closer to your chest so he can feel more of you.

The tension and the slap of his hips against your lower body brings your temperature up. You’re delirious.

Yuta tightens the grip he has on your legs but only for a moment. He moves his hands to grip your waist in a way that you know will leave bruises.

“Yuta!” You scream as he manhandles and flips you so that you’re on your knees and stomach. He takes you from behind, his pace unbroken by the switch in your position.

The change makes you feel all of him even more. Each one of his thrusts send you to heaven. You arch your hips further up and reach out to one of his hands only to put it on the back of your head. He fists your hair into a ponytail and pulls you up to him.

“Moan my name louder. Let them hear who’s making you feel good, sweet girl.” Yuta whispers in your ear as he takes his other hand to one of your nipples.

“Fuck, daddy! Yes!” You shout as a stray tear escapes from your eye. This riles Yuta up, making him add a notch to his speed.

Yuta knows you’re close again. He feels the muscles in your core fluttering around him. And to be honest, he is, too.

Yuta brings his hand to your core, his forefinger pressing and thumbing against your clit. The sensation makes you thrash against his hold, but with your hair still on Yuta’s fist, he doesn’t let you away from him.

Yuta thrusts into you one more, and then another, and then on the third one, you’re pushed over the edge, a fire of orgasm sipping through your soul. Yuta doesn’t stop. He also chases his high, not relenting his movement.

“D-Daddy, s’too much.” you blabber.

Yuta doesn’t prolong your agony. He turns your face towards him to take your lips into his as he cums inside of you. He lets out a guttural growl as he fills you to the brim with his seed, your wetness and his mixing inside of you.

You’re catching your breath as both of you collapse on the bed, a blanket sound of heavy breathing surrounding the two of you. His cock softens inside of you but he doesn’t thrust out.

Instead, he brings you close to him and peppers your shoulder with kisses, “Love you so much, ” he murmurs against your skin.

“Love you, too.” you mumble tiredly.

He takes out his cock from you and moves you so you’re on your side facing him. He takes one of your hands to his lips. He just stares at you with the same longing he had from earlier. He wonders if you truly have forgiven him or if his presence triggers unpleasant feelings in your heart. He doesn’t want that.

But he knows, this conversation can be had another time. For now, he’ll do as he swore. To make it up to you until morning comes.

#nakamoto yuta smut #nct fanfiction #johnny smut #yuta smut #jaehyun smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #jaemin smut #suh johnny smut #jeong jaehyun smut #lee jeno smut #lee haechan smut #na jaemin smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #sugar daddy smut

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fairwrite · 28 days ago

Text

FORGOTTEN | LH43

| paring: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

| summary: where Luke Hughes alarm doesn’t go off to pick up his girlfriend from the airport

| warnings: use of y/n, forgetting, kissing, romance

| A/N: I loved writing this one <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

𓆉

Airports and getting on planes was my favorite thing ever, it might seem weird but it was just how I was

I mean I went on my first plane at 16 and ever since then I fell in love

Right now I was about to board a plane to New Jersey to go see my boyfriend Luke, before my new classes start for the new semester

I met Luke when I was a freshman in college it was at some dump frat party with drinks we weren’t supposed to be having but none of that mattered once I saw him from across the room I was hooked and I’m sure he was to

We started dating not long after that and when he got the call that he would be going to New Jersey I was more than thrilled I was excited for him and this new chapter he was going to face

Of course I was sad that he was going to be leaving but he was going to start a new chapter in his life and I was proud and now here I am boarding a plane to go see my NHL superstar defensemen boyfriend

Luke

I love you and have a safe flight, I’ll see you in a couple of hours but I will be taking a nap in the meantime

y/n

I love you too, and thank you I’ll see you in couple of hours 💕💕

Luke liked message

As I set my phone down I began to feel my eyes close as we are taking off

Just a couple more hours Luke and we’ll be in each others arms

𓆉

I wake up to the flight attendant speaking on the intercom that we will be landing shortly in about 5 minutes

Just 5 more minutes until I get to see my favorite person in the world

I couldn’t contain my excitement I needed to see him more than he ever could know if

The last time I saw Luke was the day he left to go back to Jersey to start the new season

It’s been months and it’s an understatement that I’ve missed him so much and I hope he has too

Everyone started exiting the plane as it came to a full stop I was one of the last to exit

I only had a carry on because I couldn’t stay in Jersey too long because my new semester starts in 2 weeks and I needed to get back to Michigan before next week

So I’ll only be staying for the weekend

As I walked trough the airport I open my phone

Y/n

Hey I just got off the plane where you parked?

No response

That’s weird he should’ve responded by now maybe he isn’t checking his phone

As I step outside of the airport I try to look and find Luke’s car because he told me he was going to pick me up but I see no car that’s his

I try calling him but no answer so I do the most logical thing

I call over a taxi

I give the taxi Luke’s address and we start to drive

It’s quite but nice and it’s not too far of a drive thank god

As the taxi driver pulls up to Luke’s apartment complex I give him the money and a tip and I say thank you and goodbye

As I grab my backpack and get out of the car I make my way to the elevator saying hi to the security guard that I’ve made friends with since I’ve been to Luke’s apartment numerous of times

As the elevator pulls up to his floor I step out and go towards Luke’s apartment and I grab the spare key I have from my pocket and unlock the door

Jack was over staying at his girlfriends apartment for the weekend since he wanted to give us some privacy

I set the key down along with my backpack and I take my shoes off and leave them by the door

I make my way towards Luke’s door I knock on it slightly but no response so I open it and I see him

Luke just sleeping peacefully like he said he would so I didn’t wanna disturb him but I felt I had to let him know I was here

I knell down near his face and I touch his check and rub my thumb in circles on his check

“Lu, I’m here” I mumbled

He groaned slightly but then its like something clicked for him because his eyes shot open

He looked worried and confused

“y/n oh my god I’m so sorry I guess I just snoozed my alarm- OH MY GOD how did I do this I’m SO SORRY BABY-“ he looked at me while sitting up

I interrupted him by kissing him passionately

“Mhm” he groaned

“It’s okay Lu, it happens to the best of us” I mumbled while resting my forehead against his

“I’m going to make this up to you, I’m gonna make you breakfast tomorrow morning and spoil you like crazy not like I don’t already but just 100 times more” Luke says

“You don’t have t-“ “i want to baby”

“Well that’s tomorrow today I just want to cuddle with my muscular boyfriend” “oh yeah”

“yeah” I looked at him and he pulled me onto the bed onto his chest I could hear his heart beat

“I love love you y/n” I looked up at him as he said that

“I love you more lukey” I mumbled against his chest

And we sat in silence slowly drifting off to sleep

And I knew there was no other place I would rather be.

#luke hughes #hughes brothers #nhl fanfiction #lh43 x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #l. hughes

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joeliz99 · 3 months ago

Text

"You, Always." - Danny Ramirez

Warnings: Slowburn, RPF Fic, Multi-part series

Part One

Time to start over.

Danny and (Y/N) hadn’t seen each other in almost three years—since the day he graduated from college.

Honestly, they’d started growing apart even before that. But it all escalated after a conversation they had right after the graduation ceremony. That was the last time they spoke, and after that, the silence settled in—a strange, unnatural distance, only broken by occasional mentions of each other’s names through mutual friends.

They both focused on themselves. For some time, it felt like a lot was left unsaid. But, there was not much any of them could do when pride and hurt weighted more than anything else. It was over, and after some time, they accepted the idea and moved on. For good.

At least that's what Danny thought, until he learned that he was going to see her again.

Amelia and Yason, still close friends to both of them, were getting married. And of course, that was the perfect reason to reunite the whole friend group. Amelia had always been the glue in their circle, and she was determined to bring everyone back together—even if it meant flying people in from different states and countries to celebrate.

She was on the phone with Danny, making sure he’d confirmed his attendance when she casually mentioned something that caught him off guard.

"So, you're for sure coming, right?" Amelia asked, her voice relaxed but unmistakably friendly, the conversation now going on for good a while.

"Would I lie to you?" Danny grinned, though she couldn't see it. "I'll be there."

"Okay, perfect. So… should I add a plus one to your RSVP or…?"

"No," Danny replied, a breath of laughter escaping him while finishing up the last lap of his afternoon run. "Just me. No plus one."

Amelia’s voice shifted slightly, more upbeat. "Awesome. I’m working on a little hangout before the wedding. Trying to coordinate everyone's schedules. If I'm lucky, I can get the bridesmaids to come a couple of days earlier. (Y/N) and Reiny are supposed to stay with me for a couple of days, but I’m not sure about the others.”

“(Y/N)?” Danny asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice as his jog slowed.

“Yeah, (Y/N). She's one of my bridesmaids...” Amelia’s response carried a tone that suggested it should’ve been obvious.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" she teased.

"No… No, it’s just… it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. How’s she doing, anyway?"

The conversation shifted. Amelia wasn’t one to keep things to herself, but she also felt it wasn't the right thing to vent about (Y/N)'s life without her knowing. So, instead, she made sure to make it clear that her friend had being doing well, thought her life had changed in the years since. And at last, she ended up with a single expression.

" I think you two have some catching up to do. Just... Try not to waist it."

Unlike Danny, (Y/N) hadn’t known he would be at the wedding. She couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised when she found out—he had been busy with his acting career, blowing up in ways that kept him constantly moving. She figured he’d be wrapped up in projects and rehearsals, so his presence at the wedding seemed unexpected but not completely shocking.

Two days before the wedding, the closest friends and loved ones of the bride and groom met at a restaurant in SoHo. The rooftop section was packed with people, surrounded by familiar faces and the kind of easy camaraderie they tend to have. The music played, laughter floated through the air, and the evening felt just as alive as it ever had.

Danny showed up an hour late, but that didn’t stop Yason from spotting him immediately. He walked over, pulling Danny into a warm hug like nothing had changed.

As the group noticed Danny entering, the attention shifted toward him—especially from those who had been closest to him back in the day. (Y/N)’s gaze lingered a little too long as he moved through the crowd. Her heart skipped when their eyes met, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the menu at the bar. The nerves started to bubble up.

But Danny, feeling that same familiar pull, walked toward her, moving through the crowd with a calm confidence that made (Y/N)'s heart race again.

"Hey." A light tap on her arm brought her back to the present. She looked up to see him standing there, smiling like no time had passed.

"Danny, hi," she greeted, trying to sound casual, though her voice betrayed her nerves.

"Been a while, huh?" Danny’s voice was light, but there was something tentative beneath it. He sat next to her, glancing around at the group before his focus shifted back to her. "How’s everything? How’s the family doing?"

The conversation flowed easier than (Y/N) expected, like they’d never been apart. It felt natural, comfortable, yet full of the kind of unspoken tension only old friends—or maybe something more—could share. That last conversation they had, the one that shifted things between them, lingered in the air, but neither of them was ready to address it. They chose to ignore it, for now.

Danny noticed how (Y/N) had changed. She was still the same person, but there was something different now—something that made him pause before speaking. He didn’t want to sound like he was only noticing how much she'd grown, but it was hard to ignore.

"This one’s on me," Danny said, trying to keep things light after they both ordered another round of drinks.

"No, really, you don’t have to," (Y/N) protested.

"I know." Danny grinned, but his gaze flickered to hers before darting away. "So, you graduated! What’s next for you?"

"Well..." She took a sip of her drink, rolling her eyes with a laugh. "Good question. I moved to Miami. Been trying to get my name out there as a songwriter. You know how it is—saturated market, fewer opportunities. Just trying to stand out."

"I get it," Danny nodded. "With acting, it’s the same. Gotta stay consistent, keep pushing through… But hey, Miami? That’s my hometown!"

"I know," (Y/N) replied, a knowing smile pulling at her lips.

Danny leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just a bit, as though making the conversation more private. "Well, listen… I’m not living there right now because of projects, but if you need—"

Before he could finish, Amelia appeared out of nowhere, slinging her arm around both of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to order food. You guys can keep talking after that."

The flow of the night continued, and soon enough, (Y/N) and Danny were seated at opposite ends of the table.

Amelia leaned over to (Y/N) once they were settled. “Saw you two talking,” she said, an amused look on her face. “How’d it go?”

“It was good,” (Y/N) said quietly, more subdued than she expected. “I just... wasn’t expecting him to be here. You didn’t mention it.”

"I know," Amelia replied with a small, knowing smile. "I didn’t want to make it weird. It’s been a while, but I think you both deserve a second chance."

"A second chance for what?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, but there was a slight churn in her stomach at Amelia’s words.

"Chill," Amelia said, her smile soft and teasing. "What I mean is, there’s no need to act like strangers. You two were close—really close. Don’t let time or any other thing ruin that."

“We’re fine,” (Y/N) said quickly, her gaze avoiding Amelia’s. Her stomach twisted again, but she didn’t want to admit that part of her was unsettled by the idea of facing Danny again.

"Exactly," Amelia agreed, her voice gentle. "Just relax and enjoy tonight. That’s why we’re here."

The rest of the night passed in a blur—laughter, more drinks, and conversations that ended drifting from one hangout spot to the next one. By the time the energy started to fade, only six of them—the core group—remained, still hanging out under the soft glow of the city lights. Everyone was tired, and instead of catching a ride, they walked back to the hotel after realizing it was past 2 am.

Amelia, who'd been a bit tipsy for most of the night, leaned on (Y/N), who was trying to keep it together but clearly feeling the weight of the exhaustion, too.

“I swear we were almost there 20 minutes ago. How much farther is it?!”

Reiny, already annoyed, replied, “You’ve been saying that for the past five blocks, Amelia. I can’t believe we actually listened to the drunkest person in the group. I just want to be in bed by this point.”

"Bro, we used to pull all-nighters and still go out for breakfast. This is a warm-up. We’re 25, not 60," René interrupted, not missing a beat of the conversation.

" Speak for yourself. I was an old lady at heart back then, and I still am now." (Y/N) replied after an instant, sensing how Amelia giggled and leaned on her more heavily than necessary, making her stumble a little.

“Baby, why don’t we leave (Y/N) alone? Come lean on me,” Yason said, picking up the pace a little before both girls ended up on the floor.

“But she's fi—” Amelia started to complain.

“No, actually?” (Y/N) cut her off. “You go do that. My feet are killing me, Ame. I’ve been wearing heels since 3 pm, and I can barely feel them by now.” (Y/N) practically shoved Amelia toward Yason, who was right next to her.

As (Y/N) shifted her weight, trying to keep steady, Danny picked up the pace to walk beside her, glancing at her shoes before his gaze met her face.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then casually stopped forcing the guys to do so too and pulled off his sneakers to hand them over to her. "Here, these’ll probably be more comfortable," he said, his tone completely unbothered, almost as if it were no big deal.

(Y/N) looked down at the sneakers, slightly taken aback but not wanting to make it awkward. "What? I— No. That’s kind of... I don't know. You don't have to."

"So, you’d rather get blisters than take up my offer? It’s only like 10 minutes more before we get to the hotel."

"You know how dirty the streets of NY are, dude?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow, still not believing what he was doing.

"I have socks on. You’re not going to last two more minutes more in those. C’mon, just take them. Don't overthink it."

Her hesitation lasted a moment longer before she gave in, still unsure of what in the world was happening right there. "Alright, fine. Thanks."

Danny didn’t make a big deal about it, just slipping his hands into his pockets as she changed shoes for all of them to continue their way. The guys, still trailing behind, and having noticed the exchange, passed a few quiet chuckles between them.

Yason muttered low enough for only the guys to hear, his grin broadening. "Oh man, I missed this."

René chuckled under his breath, looking sideways at Danny. "Classic move, man. Taking one for the team, huh?"

Danny shot them a look, rolling his eyes with a small smile on his face, but didn’t say a word as they kept walking.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) pushed herself to go back to Reiny's side, grateful for the offer but still feeling the oddness of the situation. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she didn't know how to act around him, and for the mean time, it was just something she had to live with.

As the group finally took the last turn to get to the hotel, the faint sound of laughter and quiet chatter filled the air. The night felt light again, the easy rhythm of old friendships slowly falling back into place.

Second part now available here!

Still wanting to read more? Here are some other Danny's shots to read. You're welcome!!!!

#danny ramirez x you #danny ramirez #danny ramirez fic #danny ramirez x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #slow burn #danny ramirez x (y/n)#danny ramirez gif

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i2ycat · 11 months ago

Text

Trouble is a Band

synopsis being in a band was all you ever wanted, and so when you were able to fly across the globe to join your brother’s high school band, you jumped at the opportunity to show everyone everything that you’ve got. singing in a band? check. performing in front of a crowd? check. falling in love with your brother’s best friend, who is in a complicated relationship with one of your fellow bandmates? check?

pairing park jongseong x fem!reader genre high school!au, kind of band!au, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, brothers best friend trope, slow burn-ish? word count 7.5k warnings implied sexual relationships (there’s no smut), kind of an implied fwb situation, liking someone who is taken(??), mentions of toxic relationships, bitchy character lol, cursing, kissing, nicknames (princess, baby), semi-proofread, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking i’ve been writing this for like 2 months and even lost sleep over this, the real ones know ☝🏻 idk why but this was much harder to write compared to my heeseung one… and this is not my best work, wouldn’t say i’m entirely proud of this i’m ngl so i won’t be too surprised if this flops </3 also this got me thinking ab jay and guitars wayyyy too much main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

“Are the schools here always up a damn hill?” You heave out an exasperated pant, your legs burning from the early morning cardio you definitely weren’t prepared for, or even expecting for that matter.

The summer sun is so unforgiving that in under ten minutes, you’ve become such a sweaty mess that you’re furiously sweating from every possible angle; your uniform practically drenched from your back and underarm areas. A layer of perspiration sheens the expanse of your forehead and it results in you resembling something the likes of Abby from Chicken Little as individual strands of hair stuck to it like glue.

You look over at an unbothered Jake with his hair still perfectly intact and looking as if he had just walked out of Vogue magazine. You scoff at this.

The only things you and Jake had in common were having the same last names, a slight similarity in facial structures, and maybe a shared interest in band music but that was about it. You’ve had totally different upbringings up until now, with you having lived in France while he was in Australia, and soon after, in Sokor. You were apart for most of your childhood, only seeing each other for vacations and special occasions, like that one time Aunt Jung had her outdoor wedding in Barcelona and you’d met Jake and your mother at the airport out of pure coincidence.

But despite the distance, it didn’t deter the both of you from being as close as you guys are, still making the effort to talk almost every day, even if you were drained from school. You remembered nights when you would call up Jake just to rant to him about boys — yes, multiple — you were talking to while he ate lunch on the other side of the world.

However, other than just being brought up differently, you guys were total opposites. If Jake was known to be the golden retriever with his high energy, bright smiles, and friendly dispositions, then you would be considered the chihuahua — closed-off and somewhat sarcastic. You didn’t have a social circle as expansive as Jake's because you liked to be alone. People have always told you that you had this brooding aura about you, and you could never tell if they were complimenting or insulting you.

“You get used to it,” Jake simply shrugs, adjusting the straps of his bag in a manner that did not mirror yours in any capacity. It was ridiculous how not even a single drop of sweat was in sight. “Now hurry it up! If we walk any slower, we might actually be late.” He drags you by the arm, to which you inwardly groan, already regretting the fact that you transferred to a pseudo-gym of a school in the dead of summer.

—

Transferring to an entirely different school system definitely posed itself as an inevitable challenge at first, but even then, half a day passed you by uncharacteristically fast. It might have been because you were sleeping through the majority of your morning classes, unable to totally grasp or get used to your supposed mother tongue just yet, that made time pass seemingly faster.

That, coupled with the fact you never functioned properly in the morning in the first place thanks to your night owl tendencies.

You’d spent most of your life conversing in either English or French, rendering your skills in your own mother tongue to an intermediate level at best. You could, at the very least, listen and understand it to a certain degree but not speak it as well as Jake does. You were only able to communicate with simple sentences and the few swear words and phrases your father used whenever he was lecturing you.

A day before your flight back home, you’d even attempted to touch up on your language skills with the help of your father and a facetimed version of your brother and mother, but it was already too late then. You were a lost cause. You definitely don’t blame your parents for your inability to speak the language, but rather, you blame your own lack of enthusiasm to learn it on your own in the first place.

“Y/n, right?” You rub the sleepiness from your eyes away as your gaze averts to the girl standing in front of your desk. She, with her neatly braided hair and black rims, sported a welcoming smile that gave you the impression of a class president. Maybe she was; you haven’t been paying attention to anything the teacher said since this morning.

You slowly nod, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Mia, the class vice president.” Okay, so your guess wasn’t entirely off the mark. You were only missing a word.

“Hi.” You purse your lips into a tight-lipped smile, unknowing of what to say next and silently wishing that your brother would come get you faster. Why did his classroom have to be so far from yours? Did the administration really think you could handle all this on your own?

In the painful silence, you were sure that this Mia girl could sense the awkwardness radiating from you with the way she’s trying so hard to keep the conversation afloat, probably thinking that you’re an introvert that doesn’t like approaching people first — which if it was any other day she would’ve be right on the money on but all you wanted right now was to be left alone to your own thoughts. You were still suffering from jet lag and time differences, and those two combined ran your social battery dry.

“Where’d you transfer from?”

“France.”

“You’re french?”

“No, I just moved there really young.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head as if she were deep in thought. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

“It’s nice there.”

“So, can you speak-”

Before she can even finish her question, a blaring bang coming from the front door reverberates in your almost empty homeroom, save for yourself, Mia, and a group of friends in the back with their homemade lunches. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the heavens for hearing your prayers as you watched your brother's figure stand there, taking a moment to catch his breath as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

“Hey, Jake!” You damn near winced at Mia’s drastic change of voices in your brother’s presence. You were sure she had a deeper voice just a few seconds earlier, even having the same mezzo tone as you do. It definitely raised a few brows, but you weren’t the type to judge people too quickly, and you didn’t want to think that about such a sweet-looking girl.

Maybe she just had a crush on your brother; whatever it was, your senses were telling you that they were currently not in favour of Mia’s presence.

"Oh, hey, Mi. I see you’ve met my sister.” Jake acknowledges her before turning to you and saying, “Come on, we've got to go meet the others.” He beckons you towards him with a nod of his head, to which you happily oblige, just thankful that you don’t need to go through the rest of lunch with any more of Mia’s interrogation-style questioning.

You follow your brother after handing Mia a terse goodbye, attempting to at least have an amiable smile on your face in the process.

Even if Mia had more things she wanted to ask you, she put them aside on the backburner for a later date. Instead, opting to just wave you and Jake off with the same friendly grin she always has on.

When you’re out of earshot, making quick work to slide the door close behind you, you make your way beside Jake in quick strides. “You know her?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Nothing.” You shrug the feelings of uncertainty off, not having the energy to try and dig anything up on the first day of school. “You said we’re meeting the others?”

“Yeah, my friends, you’ve seen them. They heard you were transferring here and really wanted to meet you.”

From the number of times you’ve called Jake during his school hours, you were bound to interact with a few of his friends, mainly the three youngest of the group: Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. There would even be times he’d leave you alone with his friends while he went for a toilet break, and when he’d come back, you'd already be three months into the storyline with your then-current situationship.

You were obviously excited to finally meet them after only having talked to them via Jake’s phone. Throughout the four years, you’d like to think that you’ve created a connection with some of the boys, given that they already know so much about your life and you know theirs. The older ones, not so much, despite being much closer in age ranges.

Out of the four oldest, you’ve only managed to properly talk to Sunghoon. It was when you were on call crying to your brother about the fourth boy of the month, and Sunghoon just so happened to be going home with Jake that day. He’d eavesdropped on your conversation and offered you some advice, explaining that he had a sister of his own, as if that gave him the certification needed to meddle in your affairs.

You didn’t even know he was with Jake, let alone hearing you bawl your eyes out, blowing into copious amounts of tissues included, until he started going off about how boys are scary and that you shouldn’t trust them so easily. It startled you, almost making you scream, but you were grateful for his brotherly advice either way.

When the two of you finally make it towards the other end of the sixth floor, Jake slides the door to his homeroom open, and you’re immediately greeted with the view of six boys scattered around the empty classroom, a few having acoustic guitars and drumsticks in hand. This may sound cringy, but it reminded you of that one scene from Lemonade Mouth, where everyone was in the detention room and just communicating through the music. Except you weren’t in a detention room, and instead of singing, mindless chatter filled the space.

You’ve always daydreamed about being in a band, even going as far as attempting to create one of your own, but keyword: attempt. You obviously failed at doing so in your previous school because nobody likes being in bands nowadays, and your brother, knowing this, instantly jumped at the idea of adding you as their newest member.

He’d already gone through the logistics a week before you even officially transferred, coercing everyone in the band to agree to your addition, but truth be told, it didn’t even take that much toiling since everyone was just excited to finally meet you, and they'd already heard about how talented you are thanks to Jake’s endless bragging.

“She’s here!” Jake announces, prompting everyone to halt whatever it was they were doing and immediately jump at the sight of you gracing their homeroom entryway.

“Y/n!” Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki are the first ones to capture you in a big embrace, effectively squishing you under their hold. Is this what people feel when they finally meet an online friend?

The mixture of fulfilment and excitement bubbling inside you was hard to maintain levelled, spilling out of you in the form of a grin that extended from ear to ear. You considered these three your babies at this point, wanting to spoil and shower them with as much love and affection as an actual mother would. It didn’t matter if you were only a few months older than them, that’s wasn’t the point.

When you’re released from their embrace, you can finally see the rest standing there with a cordial expression plastered over their features. You must admit, you’ve always thought that Jake’s friends were all attractive and had a relative charm to them, but it’s even more apparent now that you’ve met them in real life. With their tall stature and undeniable talent, you could only imagine the long line of girls waiting for them.

As you start to scan the boys one by one, you catch yourself gravitating towards Jay. He’s donning the school uniform, the same exact ones that the rest are, but he makes it so uniquely his by unbuttoning it to show the black shirt underneath and cuffing the sleeves until it reaches his forearms.

From the plethora of Instagram stories you’ve seen about Jay, you knew that Jay was into fashion and occasionally designed the outfits the guys wore onto stage. And as a fashion guru yourself, you applauded his impeccable style, finding yourself in constant awe of the effortless aura and innate ability for fashion that he possessed.

It also didn’t help that he was totally up your alley in terms of physical attractiveness. The others were pretty and charming in their own way, yes, but Jay had you hooked the moment Jake posted that photo of him fresh out of the beach, with tan skin and wet hair, looking like a damn Greek god.

Did you mention that you’ve also watched an unhealthy amount of videos of Jay playing the guitar? Because you have and it made getting attracted to him so much easier. Even through the screen, you could just tell that he was in his element, like he was born to perform as the passion he had for the instrument oozed out. Everything about him was just so mesmerising; you’re sure that you’re not the only one who sees that.

The timeline is blurry but from then on, you’d developed a small, insignificant crush on him, one that you didn’t bother mentioning to your brother because you were scared he would force you to act on it, even when you weren’t sure if you liked him enough to want to date him. You haven’t even properly met the guy at that point.

To you, it was simply an attraction. One that you’d get over in about a month because it’s what you always do.

“Hey, guys.” You wave.

“You’re awfully shorter than I thought you would be.” Riki says this from beside you, silently mocking you for all the times you’ve challenged him about his height.

“Of course you would say that.” You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re obsessed with your height, Riks; we get it.”

"Okay, back off, guys. That’s my little sister you guys are hogging.” Jake shoos the younger boys away with a flick of his hand, to which they dejectedly comply, making way for you to enter further into the classroom. “What was on our agenda again? Right, Y/n’s position in the band.”

“We could use another guitarist.” Sunoo muses, with Jungwon and Sunghoon silently agreeing on the side.

“Nah, we already have Jay and you for that.” Your brother shakes his head. “Wait, speaking of Jay, where’s Jiwon? You said she’d be here when I came back.” At this, all eyes shift towards Jay, who simply shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me you guys are having a lover's quarrel again.” Heeseung sighs. Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of Jay, Jiwon, and a lover's quarrel in the same sentence. Confusion starts to pervade your stomach.

Huh? When did they start dating? You thought Jiwon was only a close friend.

You’ve only ever heard of Jiwon, not once seeing her face in Jake’s stories or any of the others. All the information you had on her was that she was the same age as you and played the keys for the band. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki mentioned her once or twice, but it was more of them complaining about her. Other than that, it was as if her existence evaded you completely.

“The third one this month, mind you.” Riki quips.

“It’s only the second week of the month, though.” Jake’s mouth gapes at the fact that his best friend is still willing to go through such a toxic relationship, or whatever it was, even when she limits the people around him until she’s the only one left in his life, when they constantly fight over the smallest things, or even when she encourages him to drop his best friends. He doesn’t understand what’s so good about Jiwon that’s got Jay under her spell, and he doesn’t want to know either.

“Can we just drop it?”

Your brother puts his hands up in defeat and says, “Whatever you say, bro.”

An awkward air of silence starts to permeate the air, and by now, you’re sure someone could cut through the tension with a knife.

You clear your throat before saying, “Is it okay if I’m just a singer?” in an attempt to divert the conversation back to its original agenda, which thankfully works because the others start talking, adding in their own thoughts here and there. And by the time lunch ends, you’re officially set as the band’s lead singer and lyricist.

Finding out about Jay and Jiwon’s relationship made you realise just how little you know about these guys, only having talked to them through FaceTime and watching them live their lives through snippets of Jake’s Instagram.

The warmth and familiarity you were initially met with made you completely forget that you only officially met these guys today. They were all, to some extent, still strangers to you.

—

A few hours of school turned into two weeks, and two weeks into a month. By now, you’ve gotten more than used to everyone’s dynamics and energy, though it was still a little too high for you at times. You were thankful that your brother was there whenever you couldn’t communicate your feelings and thoughts as well as you wanted to, and for the rest for being so understanding.

All of this was a dream come true for you, truly. Ever since your father introduced you to the world of music, you’ve dreamt of being in a band yourself, singing your own songs in front of people, and feeling the music course through you as you stand on the stage.

But no matter how much you wanted to saturate your mind with happier, less confusing thoughts, it always seemed to circle back to the same thing: Jay and Jiwon.

Over the course of a month, you’ve managed to interact with Jiwon on several occasions, each lasting around a minute. They consisted of mostly quick pleasantries, instructions, and the rare ‘how are you’s? She wasn’t cold but not entirely friendly either, which you totally get because it’s not like you were any different.

Throughout the majority of the breaks in between practice sessions, she stuck by Jay’s side, engaging in playful and flirtatious banter that the boys would secretly roll their eyes at. You’d asked your brother why everyone seemed to not like seeing Jay and Jiwon together, but he simply shrugged you off, leaving you with even more questions.

“Hey, Y/n.” You look up from your notebook to see Mia, who you’ve wrongly assumed was a pick-me at first, cheerfully greeting you.

Somewhere along the line, she’d bashfully admitted to you that she liked your brother. It definitely explained the change in personalities and voices whenever he was around, but it didn’t make you want to recoil any less. She was a good-natured girl who hated letting anyone down, so when she asked for a favour from you — one that involved you setting her up with your brother — there was just no way you could decline. If she wanted to date your brother, you would happily aid her in that.

Which brought you to a now-blooming friendship.

“Hi, Mi.” You managed to reciprocate her energy.

“You’re having band practice today, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head, to which you nod. A beat passes before she bites her lip in anticipation. “Is it okay if I come watch?”

From the way her eyes glowed with hope, you could immediately tell that she only had one mission in mind: to see Jake. “You’re not being very discreet with this,” you chuckle, endeared by her amateurish antics. “But, sure. Practice starts at 4.” Hearing this, she immediately clasps her hand into yours, thanking you as if you just saved her entire bloodline.

She leaves you to your own accord not soon after being called by the teacher, “I’ll be there!”

With twenty minutes to spare and no one to spend it with, seeing as your brother was busy with lunch detention and your three babies had a student council meeting to attend to, you decided to make your merry way towards the practice room with your notebook in hand.

Pushing the door open, the view of Jay playing the guitar by the window warmly greets you. You're awestruck by the way he strums the chords so effortlessly, filling your ears with the most beautiful progressions you’ve ever heard, like it was heaven’s sonata. You would’ve loved to just stand there all day and relish in the intimate moment he’s created in the dingy room, but it only takes a few seconds before Jay inevitably notices your figure by the door.

“Y/n?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here right now.” You take a step back, ready to shut the door close behind you, but before you could move even an inch, Jay refused, instead asking you if you could keep him company. “You want me to stay?”

“I mean, why not?” He pats the space beside him and scoots over.

Your steps are hesitant, somehow alarmed by the prospects of Pandora's box in your heart breaking open the moment you decide to sit next to him. But it was just a simple, friendly act, so what could possibly go wrong here? You push those thoughts away and plop yourself on the cushioned window seat, leaving just enough space between you and him.

“So, why are you here?” He asks you as he carefully sets the guitar back on the floor.

“Everyone else was busy,” You could feel Jay’s intense watch on you, and you couldn’t help but feel the burning sensation on your skin. Just being in his presence alone was already making you feel hot; your cheeks were heating up in the process. “How about you?” You just wanted him to stop looking at you, because you wouldn’t know what to do if he noticed just how he was making you feel.

“Me?” He hums. “I guess I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace and quiet? I could leave right now.”

“You don’t have to be so antsy. I’m not going to bite you, ya’know?” He chuckles, clearly amused by your response. “And besides, you’re giving me peace by just being here.”

“I see.” You nod slowly as you bite your lip in an attempt to get a better hold of your nerves. There was absolutely no need to be so nervous around your brother’s best friend.

“I just realised something,”

“What?” You shift in your seat to get a better look at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever had a one-on-one talk.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” You retort, and he raises an eyebrow at this.

“What do you mean by that?” His head tilts at an angle, looking at you with those deep-set eyes of his. You can try to deny it all you want, but the skip in your heartbeat is hard to mistake; it’s not a feeling you’re stranger to.

“I don’t know; you never seem to talk with anyone else other than Jiwon during practice, so it’s no wonder we’ve never actually talked before.”

“Wow, you’re sounding a little salty there.” Jay’s lips form a lopsided smirk after noticing the defensive expression that adorned your features. “Nah, I’m just toying with you.” The airy laugh he lets out does little to nothing to soothe the chaos that ensues in your heart and mind.

“For your information, I am not salty. It’s just a bummer that you never really tried forming a closer friendship with anyone else in the band.”

“It’s not that I haven’t tried." He mumbles.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the air between both of you before Jay continues, “Hey, since you’re so salty about me not giving you my attention, how about I buy you ice cream tomorrow?”

“First of all, I am not salty. And second of all, it wasn’t that-”

"So, is it a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “If you admit that I’m not salty, then maybe I’ll agree to it.”

“You’re not really in the position to be giving me a challenge, seeing as I’m the one offering you free food,” he bites down a simper. “But fine, your highness, I hereby declare you not salty.” He adds a curt bow for the dramatics, and you can’t help but roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

“You’re so annoying.” You huff out.

“If you’re going to be in our band, you’re going to need more tolerance and patience than that.”

You could feel yourself slowly letting your guard down in Jay’s presence. The playful and witty banter he offered you made you feel like you’ve known him longer than you actually do, and it felt nice.

It felt almost too nice to be around him. But like everything else in your life, this feeling too shall pass. He has a girlfriend, for Christ's sake. So you better make sure that it will.

—

With your head resting on your hand, you silently watched the busy street beside you. When you first came to Korea, it was summer, but now that the leaves were starting to turn orange little by little, you could tell that it was nearing your favourite season of the year — autumn. To you, everything felt just a little more romantic under the autumn leaves and the cool breeze that hangs in the air.

“Were you waiting long?” Jay’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly shake your head. “Sorry, Ji wanted me to teach her this riff on the guitar.” He pulls the seat out in front of you to sit, and you take the opportunity to sneak a longing glance at him: tousled hair, swollen lips, an untucked collar. It definitely looked like he did more than just teach her chords, but you bite your tongue.

It was none of your business.

“Did you order already?” He flips through the menu of desserts.

“No, I was going to, but I realised I didn’t know what flavours you liked.”

“Sorry,” He passes you a sheepish smile. “I’m going to go on a whim here and guess that you like Rocky Road.”

You raise an impressed brow. “How’d you know?”

“I just know you like that.”

“We’ve known each other for 3 weeks, Jay.”

“Okay, damn. You really do wound me,” a hand raises to his chest, feigning hurt. “Okay, now you guess what flavour I like.”

You ponder over for a while but decide to just settle on the most basic flavour of all, “Vanilla?” His face visibly falters at your answer; you could almost make out a pout forming on his kiss-bitten lips.

“Wow, I could tell the amount of thought you put into that.” His sarcastic claps boom throughout the modest ice cream parlour, earning him dirty looks from the few customers at the neighbouring tables.

“So you don’t like vanilla?”

He crosses his arms and asks, “What do you think?”

“Ugh, this conversation is going nowhere; go order it yourself.” You groan out, rising on your feet to order on your own.

“Calm down, princess; I’ll go order it.” Before you could protest, he'd already made a beeline for the cashier.

Princess? That was new. Oh, who were you kidding? All of this was fucking new.

A feeling of internal turmoil starts to bubble violently, like a seething kettle waiting to be opened. You hated how he was so nonchalant about everything. And you hated how he unknowingly made you feel things you shouldn’t feel. It felt awfully wrong on so many levels, but this thing was just a friendly gesture, a payback, if you will. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your brother’s best friend on a Thursday evening, even if you held an underlying attraction for said friend, right?

“Here, one Rocky Road for your highness, and one good ol’ vanilla ice cream for her loyal servant.”

“So you do like vanilla ice cream,” you scoff.

“I never said I didn’t.” He shrugged. “Woah, this might actually be the best vanilla I’ve ever tasted. Try it!” He scoops a chunk out for you to taste, which you politely decline. There was a certain line you didn’t want to cross, no matter how insignificant and innocent the gesture might’ve been. Maybe you were thinking too hard, but it would’ve been weird for you to share an indirect kiss with a taken man, even if he was your brother’s best friend. “Hm, your loss then.”

The both of you remained in silence with the dulcet melodies of Wave to Earth playing in the background, and it served as a pleasant companion to the overly complicated noise in your head, all caused by the boy sitting a few feet from you.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Jay’s voice pulls you out of your own mind, causing you to look up at him expectantly. “You have a really beautiful voice.” His warm smile shoots you in the heart, right where you know it shouldn’t. It was just a simple compliment, one that you’ve heard plenty of times before, yet it sounded so good coming from him. It almost made you want to keep proving yourself to him so you could keep hearing him praise you like that.

“Thank you,” You bite the insides of your cheek as a way to chide yourself. Just why were you so easily affected by everything he says and does?

“I really want you to sing this song I’m writing. I mean, I’m not totally done yet, but I wrote it with your voice in mind. It’s for the upcoming music festival.” He pulls out his phone and earphones from his pocket, sliding his chair closer to yours and offering an earpiece, which you cautiously take.

You straighten your back in an effort to keep yourself focused, not wanting to mind the way his shoulders are pushed up against yours, or the way you could practically make out every single feature on his face, or the fact that you would’ve felt his breath fan against your face if he turned even just a bit to the left. You needed to physically force yourself to focus solely on the music.

Don’t mind the confusion.

The sense of focusing.

The only sure thing is you.

So now, put it all behind.

I’m just going to walk according to how my heart beats.

Fatal trouble.

Jay’s voice fills your ears, alongside Jungwon and Sunghoon’s. You could appreciate their heavenly voices all day, but the striking lyrics seemed to be the main reason for taking your breath away. It sounded as if they were speaking to your troubled thoughts right in the face, slithering around you to tempt you into falling deeper. Deeper into what? You didn’t want to even think about it.

"So, what do you think?”

“It's... it’s good.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you want me to say?”

“No need to get so feisty, princess.” He ruffles your hair, and you sigh, feeling the overwhelming defeat take over you because, no matter how much you wanted to fight the feeling, you knew that all your efforts would come crashing down anyway.

You were a weak woman with many faults, and being attracted to someone who is so painfully taken is the biggest one of them all.

—

With only a few weeks left until the school’s music festival, it’s no surprise that everyone has been on edge, but particularly so with Jay and Jiwon. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell they were going through a rough patch in their relationship right now, made apparent by the abnormal amount of distance between them and the lack of flirtatious banter filling the room.

Every practice session was filled with the suffocating tension that made practicing so much more exhausting, and Jake had had enough of it.

“I know you guys are having yet another lover's quarrel, but can you guys quit it? We have a festival coming up, and we can’t afford to have both of your immature asses fucking this up for us.” Your brother’s stern voice shakes the entire room. He was usually never the one to get mad at people, so it felt unusual to see this side of Jake.

“We’re not lovers,” Jiwon retorts as her fingers mindlessly hover over the keys on the keyboard. She tilts her head at Jay and says, “He made very sure of that.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what the fuck you guys are or not; I just need you guys to keep it civil for the sake of our performance, if not our team.”

“Oh, fuck off. As if you guys have ever even tried keeping it civil with me,” Jiwon seethes, the dark chuckle of complete disbelief she lets out hanging heavy in the air. “Yeah, I see the way you guys roll your eyes at me, and I hear the way you guys bitch about me behind my back too. I’m not fucking blind, Jake.”

You could see the way everyone shifts uncomfortably in their spots, and you can’t help but do so too.

“Quit it, Ji.” Jay’s attempts at getting Jiwon’s rampage to stop proved futile, as it only spurred her on.

“Shut up, Jay. I know the only reason you refuse to make it official is because you started liking your best friend’s little sister over me.” As soon as she dropped the bomb, all eyes darted towards Jay, who only stared at Jiwon. His jaw ticks in what you could only surmise as vexation, with the evidence of it starting to sprawl across his features. “What, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Jiwon sneers.

“Jiwon, if you’re not going to contribute anything to the band, you can just go home.” Sunghoon speaks as he points to the exit.

“I was planning to anyway,” she says, picking up her bag from the floor. “I am so fucking done with this, and you guys are all fucked.” With that, the door behind Jiwon shuts with a deafening bang.

The eight of you remain frozen in your spots with the shock of it all coursing through your veins like a hot iron. You needed a minute or two to even begin to assimilate whatever the fuck just went down.

When she said that Jay liked you over her, she meant it as a friend, right? There’s no way it meant anything more than that, right? Why does he keep confusing you? Why did he have to have your heart right in the palm of his hand? You felt your head start to pound the more you thought about it, and you just wanted to escape from it all.

—

Life since you joined your brother’s band has been everything you’ve ever imagined and more. You were finally able to meet people you called your family; you were able to sing your heart away on stages the way you always wanted to; and you were able to feel alive in a way you couldn’t when you were in France. But it didn’t stop there. You fell in love — a little too hard at that — and now you were suffering the consequences of that.

You had a track record for falling in love way too easily with people, as evident by your long list of situationships turned relationships, so when you found yourself staring at Jay for a bit too long, you weren’t entirely alarmed because you knew you’d be able to get over it in a few weeks. It was no biggie, or so you thought.

After Jiwon’s official departure from the band, the overall atmosphere had lifted and everyone was back to their normal selves; Sunoo and Sunghoon were back to bickering, and Jungwon and Riki were back to hogging you. Heeseung occasionally joined in sessions despite the senior duties that called for his presence. Jake and Jay, on the other hand, were preparing diligently for the festival, working on the song non-stop. It’s because of that that you haven’t been seeing either of them lately, which you were thankful for because it gave you time to really think. Think about whether Jay liked you as a friend or in a romantic sense.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Mia nudges you in the arm. She knows you like the back of her hand at this point, given the amount of time she’s spent at your practices. It’s thanks to your cupid skills that your brother and her have been spending much more time together inside and out of the practice room, and despite either of them telling you that they’re just friends, you know better than that.

You sigh, knowing that it’s no use lying to her. “Is it that obvious?”

"Oh, baby, it’s written all over your face.” Her neatly manicured fingers push loose strands of hair out of your face just before squishing your cheeks in an endearing manner. “Talk to me about it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” She gives you a knowing look. “It’s just... that I liked him for so long, thinking that he was taken, and I felt so fucking guilty for it. Then the whole ‘Jiwon leaving’ thing happened, and now I’m all confused. Honestly, there hasn’t been a moment where Jay hasn’t confused me. Everything he says and does just makes me want to scream, ‘What the fuck are we!’ but I know he’s just doing it because we’re friends or whatever.

I mean, he literally calls me princess. How does he not expect me to not feel things? It’s so damn frustrating. I thought I would be able to get over these feelings before winter started, but here we are in the dead of winter, and I’m still helplessly pining over my brother’s best friend, like a damn loser.”

Everything you’ve been holding since you transferred here finally threatens to spill out, and by now, you just couldn’t help the tears from lining your eyes and your throat from constricting.

“Oh, my Y/n.” She embraces you in a hug and connects her forehead with yours; it only eggs you on to fully succumb to your emotions, and so tears become full-fledged sobs. “It’s okay, let it all out.” Her voice, along with her hand ministering to gently soothe your back, lulls you.

Until you’re left only as a sniffling mess, she continues to caress your back. “Thank you, Mi. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m always here for you,” She squeezes you one last time for good measure before letting go of you. “Now, we need a plan for you to get your man.”

“No, we do not.”

“You did it for me, so it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that,” you exhale for what seems like the nth time this month.

“Then we’ll make sure he does. Simple as that,” she claps her hand. “Boys fall for anything, so if he doesn’t already like you, he will anyway, because just look at you! You’re stunning, funny, kind, talented, and so so so much more. Believe me when I say that, Y/n.” Her features soften even further as she shares a look of sympathy with you.

Her words melt right through you, and you’d like to believe that you do hold the ability to make Jay fall for you.

—

Endless weeks of toiling had brought you all to this exact moment — d-day. You fidgeted with the microphone stand to try getting a better hold of your emotions because there was no way you would mess things up, not when you’ve all worked so hard for this.

The seats in front of you are filled to the brim, yet out of the hundreds of faces, you could only recognise a select few: your mom, Mia, and a few of the others’s family members.

Jay, who stood not too far behind you, could see the trembling in your legs. “You’ll do perfect; I know that because you were made for this.” He whispers in your ear, squeezing your hands in the process. You’ve never wanted anything more than to just kiss the boy for being so damn near perfect — everything you could’ve asked for and more — but he wasn’t yours to kiss, so you heed those thoughts away, instead simply nodding your head.

“Hello, we are ENHYPEN, and we’ll be performing an original song called ‘Fatal Trouble.’” Jake’s voice echoes throughout the school hall, with claps following shortly after, just before it falls back to a silent abyss.

Sunghoon’s keys fill the empty air before you start, “Can’t believe. You, in front of my eyes, everything is the same. But your smile is one I don’t know. Your pupils are like an abyss.” You shut your eyes, letting your emotions lace through each and every word you sing.

As soon as Sunoo and Jay’s electric guitars and Riki’s drums joined in on the melody, you could physically feel the shift in the air. It brought goosebumps to your skin watching people gape at you in awe and watching their eyes twinkle against the stage lights.

“Fatal trouble. It’s getting blurry. The memory of you is crumbling down.” Heeseung and Jungwon’s lower voice harmonises with your higher one, creating the most heavenly of harmonies to echo across the expanse of the hall. It felt so electrifying to finally be able to see the fruits of all your hard work. You’re happy you got to perform with these boys side by side.

By the time the instrumentals fade to complete silence, your heart roars against your chest like a lion so hard you can practically hear them in your ears. You all take time to thank the audience before heading backstage, where you all instantly huddle together.

“We did so well!” Sunoo beams.

“For all our hard work, I say we go drinking after this,” Heeseung suggests with a motion of his hand, to which the others instantly agree.

“Drinks are on me!” You chuckle as you watch your overly excited brother raise his arm like a puppy. You of all people know just how hard he exerted himself just for this performance, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, so you’re just happy to finally see him be himself again.

Cheers and hoots are heard throughout the backstage area until the staff politely asks you to leave. Before you could even follow the rest past the door, Jay’s call to you stopped you in your tracks.

“You did well out there,” he compliments with a sheepish smile, and it does the same thing it always does to you — make you fall even harder. You were so damn weak for him. “I knew you would kill it.”

“You did too, considering it is your song.” He steps a foot closer to you, and despite the hitch in your throat, you don’t do much to shy away. Jay takes this as a sign to be more forthright with you. He takes your hand in his, tracing circles with his thumb along the backside of your hand.

“I wrote this song for you. It wasn’t just your voice that inspired me to write this song; it was your smile, the way you made me feel, and the warmth you gave. So, technically, it’s our song.” The boyishness in his tone is obvious, almost like he was scared to admit this to you in the first place.

“I-…” You’re rendered speechless at his insinuation, feeling the familiar giddiness starting to spread across your body. “Are you confessing to me right now?” His deep eyes hold yours, staring at you with such admiration and intensity that you feel like you could cry.

“Yes, I am, princess.” His voice was nothing short of a whisper. You could see the way he eyes your lips, and so without much contemplation, or even hesitation for that matter, you take the first step in your newfound relationship by trapping him in a kiss. Further closing in the distance between you, your arms travel around his neck while his hands find purchase in your waist.

As breathless as you felt, you couldn’t let him go — not when this is all you’ve ever wanted for so long. Months of seeing him with Jiwon and hopelessly pining over him brought you to this moment, and you were going to let yourself relish the fuck out of it.

taglist @enhaslay @channiesdarling @kim2005bomi @letwiiparkjay

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antinousletmehit · 4 months ago

Note

Polties with a very playful nymph reader he met on one of the islands they sail to go!!

୨୧┇pairing: Polites x Nymph!reader

୨୧┇Enjoy!!

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The sun hung low in the sky as the crew of Odysseus’s ship landed on yet another mysterious island. The air was sweet with the scent of wildflowers, and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to whisper secrets. Polites stepped off the ship with his usual enthusiasm, taking in the lush greenery that stretched as far as the eye could see. “Stay close,” Odysseus warned, his sharp gaze scanning the horizon. “We don’t know what dangers lie here.” Polites waved him off with a grin. “You worry too much, Captain. Not every island is out to kill us.”

Odysseus gave him a look but said nothing more as the crew began their exploration. Polites, as always, wandered a little farther than the rest, his curiosity pulling him deeper into the forest. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon a glade that seemed almost too perfect to be real. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the crystal clear pool at its center. And there, perched on a rock by the water’s edge, was a person unlike any Polites had ever seen.

Its hair cascaded down their back like a river of gold, and their laughter was like the chiming of bells as they dipped their toes into the water. They looked up as Polites approached, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, what have we here?” They said, their voice melodic and teasing. “A sailor, lost in my woods?”

Polites blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. She was stunning, and the way she looked at him made his heart race. “I—uh—wasn’t lost, exactly,” he managed, scratching the back of his neck. “Just… exploring.” The nymph laughed, hopping gracefully off the rock and stepping toward him. “Exploring, are you? And what have you found?”

“Something beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself, his cheeks flushing as the words left his mouth.

Their laughter rang out again, and they circled him, their bare feet barely making a sound on the soft grass. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sailor.” Polites grinned, relaxing a little under her playful gaze. “Then I’m in luck, because I’m very good at it.”

“Oh, I can see that,” she said, stopping in front of him. “But tell me, doesn’t your captain and crew worry about you wandering off?”

“They worry too much,” Polites replied, his grin widening. “I like to greet the world with open arms. There’s too much wonder in it to spend all my time being afraid.” The nymph tilted her head, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “A rare sentiment, for a sailor.”

Before he could respond, a familiar voice called out from the trees.

“Polites!”

He turned to see Odysseus striding into the glade, his expression darkening as his gaze landed on the nymph. “Step away from it,” he commanded, his voice low and firm. Polites frowned, confused by the sudden tension. “Captain, it’s fine. They’re not—”

“Do not trust it,” Odysseus interrupted, his eyes never leaving the nymph. “It may look harmless, but I’ve seen too many men fall victim to charms like theirs.” The nymph smirked, crossing her arms. “Such cynicism,” they said, their tone light but eyes sharp. “You must be the captain. Always looking for the trap, never the treasure.”

Odysseus’s jaw tightened, but Polites stepped between them, holding up his hands. “Captain, please,” he said, his voice calm. “Not everyone we meet is out to harm us. Sometimes, you’ve just got to greet the world with open arms, remember?” Odysseus’s gaze flicked to Polites, and for a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he stepped back.

Polites turned back to the nymph, his smile returning. “See? No need for all this tension.” The nymph chuckled, stepping closer to him. “You’re brave, Polites. Perhaps a little foolish, but brave.”

Before he could respond, they leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Her lips were cool, like the morning dew, and the touch made his heart skip a beat.

“Take care, sailor,” she giggled, their voice barely audible. “Not every nymph is as kind as I.” And with that, they turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving behind nothing but the faint scent of wildflowers.

Polites touched his cheek, a dreamy smile on his face as he turned back to Odysseus. “See?” he said, his tone light. “Not everyone’s out to get us.”

Odysseus shook his head, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re lucky it was one of the kind ones. Next time, don’t wander so far.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Polites replied, laughing as he followed his captain back toward the camp. Odysseus shook his head again, Polites could have sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile.

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #polites #epic polites #epic odysseus #polites x reader

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parkerslatte · 2 years ago

Text

Overlooked | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre.

Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone.

Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation.

There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug.

Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while.

“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked.

“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”

“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”

“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.

“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued.

“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied.

“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”

It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.

“When is this happening?” Y/N asked.

“Two days time,” Feyre replied.

Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.”

Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore.

***

Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection.

When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever.

The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.

The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in.

While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped.

The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne.

When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N.

“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”

Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more.

Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own.

Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that.

Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room.

She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful.

Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her.

“The eldest Archeron sister.”

Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her.

“Yes?” Y/N said.

A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that.

“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual.

“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”

“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.”

Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”

Eris hummed.

Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest.

Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”

Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”

There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped.

“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned.

“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”

“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?”

Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”

Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N.

“Come and dance with me,” Eris said.

For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet.

Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight.

Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper.

Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”

“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”

“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N.

The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity.

“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”

“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.

“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”

“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded.

“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him.

“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”

Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares.

Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care.

“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music.

At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.

“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.

Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”

As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”

Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes.

“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”

Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after.

“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps.

Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity.

Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped.

“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief.

Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”

From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand.

“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented.

Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces.

“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered.

“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”

Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them.

“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed.

“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.

“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister.

“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”

“That’s not true,” Feyre said.

“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”

“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.

“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”

Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”

The Inner Circle were silent.

“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”

“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”

Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”

“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.

“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”

“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”

Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”

A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”

Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”

Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist.

“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”

“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”

“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”

“She is not staying–”

“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”

“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.

Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”

“How long will that be?” Elain asked.

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance.

Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”

Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight.

Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home.

“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her.

Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed.

Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place.

“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”

“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away.

“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.

“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”

Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”

Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”

Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”

“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.

“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”

Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.

“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #acotar x reader #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #ACOTAR

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