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angelwithdemonictendencies · 2 months

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wake me from this eternal slumber, rumor has it, a kiss is all it takes; i'm no fairytale but your lips might make me one.

jh86 x reader: you've sworn off frat boys, but maybe just one more?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f) yay! we love exceptions, fingering, hair pulling and lips and limbs and all my usual stuff (you guys know what i'm about). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: well, favorites, my ex was in pike in undergrad, so you can thank him for 18k worth of a fantasy-level frat romance (i know, it's too much, i need to cut it down, but i can't. this is how i'm dealing with my breakup. leave me be). and, actually, don't thank him. thank me, because i worked really, really hard on this <3. there are a billion things that i ask you to take for granted, like how i included too many side characters, so i know it will be confusing, but i needed sleazy nh13 in there, okay? and i needed starboy pitcher lh43, and cc22 falling for his postgame reporter, and tz11 not being able to catch, and qh43 being a pawn in a president x president love story featuring alex turcotte. all of it was necessary for my healing process. i wanted to write something in which someone can drop into your life and rewrite all of the things you believe to be true. some star-crossed shit. so, this is my best shot. what is love, after all, but leaving your window open for fratboy jh86 to climb into? i was never actually in greek life, so all of this is based on what my friends have told me (sam is based on my irl best friend, fun fact). forgive me for any plot holes and inconsistencies. please, please, tell me what you think, because i love when you do, and tell me what you want next. thank you for your support. thank you for indulging my silly whims and most delusional daydreams. tell your snakes i love them. getting pretty busy up here in the real world, but until next time. go canucks. all my love).

this day, the first day of classes, had been a real disaster, honestly. what had been the worse part, even? it was hard to decide, with so many natural contenders.

would it be the alarm clock of your roommate, which had gone off for twenty minutes, until you had to get up yourself and shake her awake? or maybe the pop quiz in your lecture, on the very first day, when you forgot to do the reading? but, no, we can't forget the back to back to back texts from that guy, the one who mistook your general friendliness as romantic interest.

it had been a terrible day, genuinely, but this might be the worst of it, you thought, as you stood outside the tke house, on the sidewalk, waiting for your friends. your friends, who said they would be out ten minutes ago.

it was getting kind of brisk outside, and your outfit, compliant with the finance bros and business hoes theme, wasn't keeping you very warm. you looked down at your phone, tried to will a text from one of them into existence. you just wanted to go home, which, honestly, you probably should have already done by now. your sorority house was maybe a five minute walk down the row, but you didn't want to abandon your friends, and you didn't really want to make the walk alone, in the dark.

you could go back inside, you knew. but, this day had sucked, and you weren't in the mood to dance on an elevated surface tonight.

you opened the text conversation with your roommate, typed almost out? and hit send, before a deep voice pulled your head up.

"miss, is that an open container?" you looked up to find a stout officer of campus security shining his flashlight on you and your red plastic cup.

of course, because today was terrible, today would be the day that security cracks down on their no-open-containers-on-the-row rule. of course.

you looked into your solo cup, swirled around the pink liquid. what could you even say this was? the officer could probably smell the vodka in it from where he stood, a few feet away. honestly, it was probably better to just come clean. you'd get, what, a citation? hopefully a warning, if you could conjure up some tears?

you sighed, opened your mouth to spew some sob story, but you were cut off by some goofy voice coming from the door.

"there you are, baby!"

both you and the officer turned to face the voice, now an approaching figure.

your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out a face from the dim street light. you certainly were not anyone's baby. and you were fairly certain the only people who could have been wondering where you were would be the friends you came with, who had much more feminine voices.

before you could tell this guy he had the wrong idea, though, he slung a heavy arm around your shoulders, used it to pull you close to him before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, gentle, doting, fleeting.

you were about to shove this guy off of you, as he had obviously mistaken you for someone else.

"thanks for holding my drink for me," he said, then, taking your cup from your hand and downing it in one go.

you swallowed, your mind buzzing, not just with confusion but with the weight of his body against yours, the ghost of heat from his lips on your temple, the slightly muddled sandalwood scent of him so close. was he covering for you, this stranger? this stranger, who definitely could see your face, now, so there was no one he could be mistaking you for.

was he just being nice?

"'course, baby," you mustered, letting yourself lean into his embrace, hooking an arm around his waist. if he was going to get this officer off of your back, you'd let him.

your savior turned to face the shorter man in front of you both, as if noticing him for the first time. "oh, good evening, officer," he said, ever the gentleman. "can i help you?"

as the officer explained his presence with a gruff tone, you turned your neck to look at the face of the man who currently had his arm around you, whose lips on your forehead you could still feel like a purpling bruise.

you looked up at him, and your stomach flipped, because he was just so pretty. so much so that it flooded your gaze, made him hard to take in all at once. that fairytale profile, cut jaw, sharp cheekbones, soft slope of a nose. long, dark lashes that framed light blue eyes. grown out hair that curled around the brim of his backwards baseball cap, which read the letters tke in bold font. full, pink lips you had the sudden urge to tug on with your teeth.

uh oh, the gossip in your head whispered to her friends. we've seen this before. we know how this ends.

you could have shushed her.

"as you can see, officer, there's no liquid here, at least not anymore," the tke boy above you said with the voice of an experienced sweet-talker, smooth and sugary. "we wish we could be of more help, don't we, baby?"

he turned his gaze down to you, meeting your eyes directly for the first time. oceanic amusement met your careful skepticism, so electric and charged you swore the streetlight above you began to flicker.

"sure do," you said, reluctantly fixing your gaze on the officer and away from the mesmerizing face next to you.

the short man looked unconvinced, but switched his flashlight off anyways.

"have a good night, sir," you added, to which he muttered something and walked in the other direction.

you waited until he was out of earshot before lifting that warm arm from around your shoulders, crossing your own arms over your chest. "right," you began, "so, do i know you, or something?"

he tilted his head, let a bemused smile slant across his face, completely lopsided, completely endearing. "or something," he said, his eyes glinting, brimming over with mirth.

you furrowed your brow, shifted on your feet. "why did you come out here, then?" you asked. "and what was that whole act for?"

he sucked on his teeth for a moment, during which you took in his whole frame, his wide shoulders, tall build, strong stance.

uh oh is right, you thought to yourself, clasping your hands behind your back.

he shrugged, the movement making the muscles in his shoulders tense. you looked at your feet. "saw you come out here by yourself," he said, simply. "just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."

you narrowed your eyes, which made his gaze shimmer again.

"then i saw you with the security guy, and he's been camping out recently for their open container policy, so i figured i'd-"

"you figured you'd pretend that we're together?" you raised a brow. "awful dramatic, don't you think? could have just smacked the cup from my hand." you cringed internally as soon as you said this. you'd felt his hand on your side, and there was no chance that soft touch was capable of anything so harsh.

he just took a step closer to you, though, and part of you wanted to back away, but you didn't. you couldn't. "maybe i had selfish motives," he added, "maybe i wanted him to think i could pull a pretty girl like you, hm?"

you gave a slight scoff, the smallest shake of your head, before looking up at him again, finding him closer, looking at you like you were something special. something he wouldn't find again.

"okay, you can turn off the charm, now," you warned, more for your own sake than his. "what's your name?"

he stuck out his hand to shake yours, which felt wholly odd, given you could still feel his lips on your skin, like a brand, a scar. "i'm jack," he said, and you took his hand, gave it a shake as you offered him your own name in return.

"and you're in tke?" you asked, half-hoping he would laugh, nod you off, say that fraternities were stupid. hoping he wouldn't be a frat brother, so that he might still be on the table. so that you wouldn't have to walk away from him knowing exactly how he would hurt you if you gave him too much of a chance, too much of yourself.

he nodded though, and you could have sighed in disappointment. he was so, so pretty, but pretty wasn't good enough for your no frat boys rule. not after last time. "are you in a sorority?"

"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. this was a lie, you were in alpha phi, but you were hoping he'd lose interest as soon as you denied it, as so many greek-life boys did.

the light didn't blink out from jack's eyes though. "you must have a walk ahead of you then, if you're not on the row," he said. "i'll walk with you, it's dark."

you peered up at him, dubious. what was his angle, here? what would he have over you if you said yes?

luckily, you didn't have to answer, because you heard your roommate's voice from the door, now walking towards you. "'m so sorry, didn't see your text," she said, walking right past jack and pulling you in for a hug. "of course we can go. let's go back to the house, yeah?"

you nodded, returned her hug.

"the house?" jack's voice asked, to which your roommate pulled away from you, looked at him.

"yeah, a-phi," she said, skeptical. "um, who is this?" she elbowed you.

"this is jack," you explained, "he saved me from a safety citation. jack, this is my roommate, sam."

he nodded to her, which she returned. if jack had put together that you had just lied to his face about being in greek life, he didn't call you out on it, only smiling that goofy grin at you again, the one that awoke butterflies in your stomach, the one that had the street light rolling its eyes at you.

"well, jack, we're off," sam said, linking her arm in yours.

"goodnight, ladies," he said as the two of you set off down the sidewalk. "until you next need saving, baby."

you shook in a disbelieving laugh.

"baby?" sam whisper-screamed at you.

"i'll explain later," you told her.

you did explain later, that night, when the two of you were taking off your makeup in your mirroring vanities.

"i'm sorry, what?" sam said when you had finished recalling the night. "he quite literally kissed you?"

you flushed, waved her off. "barely," you said, "on the head."

"okay, sure," she mused, patting toner into her face. "sure, as if this isn't the longest you've talked about a guy since last year!"

you sighed. "it doesn't matter," you said, trying to make yourself believe it. "he's in tke. and i've sworn off frat guys, you know this."

"oh, i know this," she replied, "but rules are made to be broken."

"that's not right," you sing-songed.

"don't talk back to your president," she sung right back at you, using her position in the sorority as a trump-card, as she was so prone to doing.

"he's probably just like the rest of them," you reminded her, and yourself, "he's charming and sweet and lovely until he gets what he wants, and then he's gone."

the words hurt as you spoke them, jagged and sharp in your throat, like shards of glass. it hurt to think about your history with frat guys, the ones you'd let get close to you.

the guy from pike whom you had been seeing, sort of, for half a year, who had relished in the chase of it all, been so caring until you finally slept with him. and then he acted like you were nothing, not even worth a text. he had acted like you were crazy, delusional, for thinking your relationship went any deeper than sex.

he had all but laughed at you when you had suggested anything different. "i don't, like, do labels," he had told you. "you know that, right?"

you shuddered, now, thinking about how stupid, how utterly childish he had made you feel. thinking about how you had given the next guy, the one from lambda, a chance, about how he had done the same thing, with slightly different words, on a slightly different timeline.

you refused to feel that way again.

sam just shrugged. "i don't know, love," she said, "the way he was looking at you, back there, i swear, it was special."

you scrunched up your nose. "i'm not changing my mind. it's not worth it. he's not worth it."

something in the back of your mind twisted, though, because there was a trace of disbelief in your tone.

"whatever you say," sam said.

"now, tell me about your progress on project peace treaty," you said, hoping to change the subject, referring to sam's crush on the tke president.

one of your other friends had come up with the moniker after sam had been voted president herself, like a relationship between the two leaders would be some kind of deal between nations.

sam pretended to faint in her chair. "i don't know how much more obvious i can be," she whined. "i swear, i can't tell if he's just quiet or if he wants me to get the fuck away from him."

you rolled your eyes. "there's no way he's not into you," you said, and you meant it - sam was your best friend, and the best person you knew. if there was a way not to like her, you were unfamiliar with it.

she just shook her head. "you haven't talked to alex," she said, solemn. "he's, like, impossible to read." she shot you a look. "not all of us can have a tke brother wrapped around our finger after meeting once."

you threw a pillow at her, laughed her off, tried not to dream that night about starry blue eyes and soft lips on your temple.

the week passed, slowly, defined by welcome back mixers and new classes, new faces.

before you knew it, it was friday. you were exhausted, but you only had two classes today, the first of which passed quickly, the second of which was ballroom dance 101.

you had already had your first ballroom class on wednesday, so you knew it was fairly laid back, a good way to get some unit credits, a place to move around a bit before the weekend. you were, however, taking it alone. sam had been planning on taking it with you, but then an opening for a class she really needed had come up, and you had insisted you'd be fine on your own, that obviously her major credits were more important than this random elective dance class.

and it was fine, truly, if not a little less fun without her there. you waited patiently for the instructor to arrive, watching the little circles of friends stretch and chat. you leaned your back against the wall, crossed your arms over your chest, let your mind slow until you felt a presence next to you.

you glanced to your left, felt your heart stutter as you did a double take. "jack?" you asked, almost incredulous. if he looked pretty in the night, he looked downright distracting in the daylight, today in khakis and a polo shirt.

"hey, baby," he said, maybe a trace of smugness in his voice as he mirrored your lean, your posture. "how're you?"

this felt like a trap. he felt like a trap. your eyes narrowed. "you're in ballroom? since when?"

"since i switched into it, yesterday," he answered, simply and plainly, before his mouth quirked up. "is that what the experts are callin' it? just 'ballroom?'" he gave a facetious nod. "i like it. drop the 'dance,' 's too bulky."

you rolled your eyes, but laughed nonetheless. "we went over this kind of expert vocabulary on day one," you said with a shrug, "sorry you missed it."

the instructor clapped her hands, signaling her arrival, before beginning a stretching sequence on the floor.

"you're gonna dance in khakis?" you whispered to jack, who had taken the spot next to you as you both leaned forward to touch your toes.

"was i supposed to bring my tux?" he asked, which made you choke down a laugh. "or are we doing some kind of breakdancing i'm unaware of?"

"what, you don't have your handstand mastered?" you teased, "if you insist, but that's the foundation we're building from, just warning you."

"students, focus!" the instructor demanded, shooting you a glare, which you acknowledged with a nod before sharing a guilty smile with jack, like kids caught laughing too hard on the field trip bus.

after class, the both of you were planning on walking back to the row, so you just walked together, chatted pleasantly. the street was pretty in the daylight in a way it wasn't at night. there was something to be said, you thought, about being able to see everything clearly, about knowing exactly what you were looking at. and sure, there was beauty in mystery, and there was beauty in danger, but there was beauty in comfort, too.

"so, do you think i could get your number?" jack said, as you both turned the corner, the tke house now in clear view. his smile was easy. "for all the questions 'm gonna have about the tango?"

you let out a little laugh, thought for a moment. it was just your number, after all, and he said it was for class. it probably didn't mean anything. it was probably safe. "okay," you said, taking out your phone, handing it to him, "sure." your mouth quirked up as he put in his information, sent himself a text. "don't know how much help 'm gonna be, though."

he handed your phone back to you, that halfway grin on his pretty face. "you're right," he said, making his way towards his front door. "if anything, you'll just distract me from the steps, lookin' like that and all."

you looked down, shook your head, felt the gentle heat of a blush on your face. "focus up, then," you chided, gripping the straps of your backpack.

"oh, i'm focused, baby," he called out, "just not on dance."

you rolled your eyes at him as he smiled at your reaction, both of you saying your goodbyes. you heard his front door shut only when you had completely turned away, began to walk the few houses down the street.

when you got back to your room, you flopped down on your bed, breathing into your soft comforter, until you heard the door swing open again. you looked up.

"all good?" sam asked, raising a brow. she threw her bag and keys on the floor by her desk, slipped off her shoes, hopped up onto her bed, opposite yours.

"yeah," you said, sighed, then laughed, short and breathy. "remember that guy from last weekend?"

her eyes went wide, now alert. her posture straightened. "uh, your valiant hero in the face of danger? of course."

you laughed, then, more naturally this time, hugged a pillow to your chest. "he's in my dance class." you looked down at your hand, examined your fingernails. "and i gave him my number."

sam squinted at you. "okay," she said, slowly. "i know what i think about this, i think you know what i think about this." she tugged her hair elastic down, freeing her hair from the ponytail it had been in. "what do you think about this?"

you sucked on your teeth, thought for a moment. "i don't know," you said. "i guess i'm just confused. and worried. and i don't think i want him to text me first, but i also kind of want-"

a buzz from your phone interrupted you, and sam tilted her head back and groaned. "that's him, isn't it?" she asked. "that's definitely him."

and it shouldn't have been, you thought, there was no way it was him, because it had been what, ten minutes? you knew frat guys, and you knew it couldn't be him.

it was.

forgot to ask if you were coming tonight, he had texted, followed by told you you're distracting lol.

"i knew it," sam said, shaking her head, "i'm like an oracle. it's a gift, i know, but it's also a burden." she gestured for you to speak. "what's he say?"

"asked if i'm coming tonight," you said, looking up at her, "in all lowercase. and he said lol."

she waved you off. "non-issue," she declared.

"but, like," you pushed, giving her a look, "who taught him to use all lowercase?"

"doesn't matter," sam continued, "he called you baby and kissed you on the forehead. he gets a lowercase pass."

"so you're the oracle and the lawmaker?" you asked, teasing.

sam nodded seriously. "and the president," she finished.

you laughed, then sighed, began typing.

"what're you saying?" sam asked, leaning forward on her bed, as if she would be able to read your screen.

"just that 'm not going," you said. not tonight sry, you sent, followed by you might want to get that distraction thing checked out.

sam nodded. "what was their theme tonight? something bad, right?"

"country bros and rodeo hoes," you answered with a grimace.

"who the hell is in their little think tank?" sam asked, shaking her head, "'m gonna tell alex if they do the bros/hoes thing again a phi isn't coming."

you were nodding in agreement when your phone buzzed again. then you'll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow? he had asked, followed by any chance you wanna come watch my friends' baseball fall game?, followed by maybe more exposure will help w my distraction problem :).

you bit your lip, looked up at sam. "what?" she asked.

"have plans tomorrow morning?" you said as you typed. thanks for the invite, you sent, followed by can i bring sam? and can you bring alex?

"of course not," sam said, "it's saturday morning."

as long as you'll be there, you can bring anyone you want, he texted back, followed by alex is in!

see you there :) you said in a final response.

the field @ 9, he sent, followed by thank you!

your brow furrowed at this, because what was he thanking you for? what had you promised him, in this interaction, besides just seeing him? surely that wasn't enough to warrant a thank you?

you cleared your throat, tossed your phone aside. "well, you do now," you said to sam. "we're going to baseball tomorrow morning."

sam groaned. "those guys suck."

"alex is coming," you tried.

"i love baseball!" sam said, straightening again. "and soph is covering it for the paper, so we can support her, too."

you laughed. "so easily convinced, eh?"

"you don't wanna talk to me about being easily persuaded," she sing-songed. visions of easy grins and high cheekbones flashed across your mind, and you knew she was right, so you let it rest.

the next morning, as the two of you walked to the baseball field, sam was reminding you about the plight of being the president.

"we've warned her a million times about what she's posting," she told you, out of breath, referring to one of the freshman who didn't seem to understand your house's social media rules. "i don't know how many times i can remind her politely before i just start smacking cans out of her hand when someone takes their phone out."

you laughed as you rounded the corner by the field entrance. "i say resort to violence," you said, "i hear it's always the answer."

sam groaned while you smiled. "look, there they are," you whispered, spotting him and jack over by the stands. suddenly all evidence of sam's unhappiness was mysteriously gone. her face was the image of alert interest. you imagined you probably looked a little more nervous as you approached where they were standing.

"gentlemen," sam greeted the pair of them as you approached. "good to see you." she shot a wink alex's way. he appeared completely unaffected. "'specially you, handsome."

you and jack shared a gentle smile at sam's boldness, and it felt like a secret language, the kind you make up with your friend during a playdate, the kind everyone understands but that feels extra special, anyways.

"hi, sam," alex said, plainly, but you caught the faintest of a pleased look in his eyes before he nodded to you in greeting.

"thanks for coming," jack said, although when he said it he was speaking directly to you. there was a fluttery feeling in your stomach that you scolded into submission. then he offered you his arm, and you decided that the butterflies were probably here to stay, at least for now. "shall we?"

you exhaled, had the feeling that touching his extended arm would be like touching a loaded gun, dangerous and daunting, but you took it anyways, found him warm and comfortable against your side as you fell into step together. "i'm, uh," you started, testing your limits, "i'm happy you texted."

jack shook his hair from his face. his returning smile was nothing short of stunning. "yeah?" he asked, which had your mouth feeling a bit dry. "made you happy?" this fact seemed to make him especially pleased, proud.

"what, no arm for me, al?" came sam's abrupt voice from behind you. alex appeared horrified by this nickname. "that's fine, i have enough arms, anyways. three would be overdoing it, i think."

you coughed, turned your gaze back to jack. you felt the force of his attention like a suckerpunch to the stomach. "yeah, i, um," you tried, "thanks, i guess. for inviting us."

his soft features lit up with amusement at your uncertainty, obvious discomfort. he appeared just on the verge of laughter, but it didn't really feel like he was laughing at you, somehow. you knew what being on the bad end of joke was like, and this didn't feel like that. maybe you were just distracted by how his mouth curved around his almost-laugh, slow and delighted. "of course, baby," he said, and you sort of wished he would stop calling you that. for your mental well-being, he really needed to stop calling you that. he tugged you slightly closer to him as you made your way towards some empty seats in the stands. "can i have the seat next to you?"

and you let out a little laugh, then, as you sat down, made a motion as if to wipe off the seat to your left. "all yours," you said.

he hummed, something sparking in his eyes as he sat down, which had you rethinking your words, the gravity of them. you couldn't bring yourself to regret them, though, if you were honest. how could you regret them, when they made him look at you like this? like there was some worldly truth in the blush on your cheeks?

the cracking sound of a bat pulled you from your daze. "so, who do you know on the team?" you asked, eager to push the conversation towards something safer, something that didn't have your neck feeling hot, didn't make the arm rest between the two of you feel like something cruel.

he turned his head towards the field slowly, reluctantly. "11, 22," he said, pointing to where they stood, one tall, the other shorter, broader. "trevor and cole." he smiled. "they aren't very good."

you huffed a laugh. "they're on a d1 team," you chided, "so they must not be terrible."

"we still have no idea how they made the team," jack replied, shaking his head. "you'll see, swear trev can't catch a ball."

"and they only took on cole 'cause he's good with media," alex added from the seat on the other side of jack. "he's their backup backup catcher."

sam snapped her fingers. "cole, like cole caufield?" she asked, her eyes widening when alex nodded. sam looked at you. "he's the one soph's been talkin' about. the one she interviews all the time for the paper."

you laughed in recognition. your friend sophie covered almost every baseball game, and apparently a certain backup backup catcher had been giving her a lot of grief whenever she tried to get a useable quote.

"oh, and 43," jack said, pointing to the lanky kid on the pitcher's mound. his smile turned bashful. "'s luke, my younger brother."

your stomach flipped at how his gaze had softened. "didn't know you had siblings," you said, although you didn't know much about him, so you guessed that made sense.

he just nodded. "older brother, too, you might know him, actually."

"'s in tke with you?" you asked, to which jack made some affirmative sound.

"yeah," he said, "quinn, 's close with nico."

you hummed in recognition, picturing their faces, noticing the similarities. "right," you said, "you guys do look similar."

his smile turned indulgent as he tilted his head. "'m better looking though, right, baby?" he asked, and his voice dripped with confidence, but you felt a strange compulsion to reassure him, anyways, could somehow sense that this was important.

so you just ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, gauging what to say, here, how much you could reveal. "i think you're pretty, jack," you said, and it was soft, low, for him. your eyes caught on his for a blazing second. "you know i do." and it was true, you knew he was aware of the way he affected you.

his gaze grew hooded for a moment, which terrified you, a horror-movie jump scare, a reminder of the reason you made your no-frat-boy rule in the first place.

luckily, as always, sam had something to say. she scoffed. "don't know about that," she said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs over the seat in front of her. "quinn's a straight ten." she gave a satisfied smile, looked to her right. "say, al, d'you think you could set me up with him? you guys are close, right?"

alex didn't answer right away. he shifted slightly in his seat.

"c'mon, from one president to another, think you could help me out?" sam gave a dreamy sort of sigh. "he's got a real face on him, and ever since he's grown out his hair-"

"'m not setting you up with him," was alex's short reply, cutting sam off, not quite looking at her.

you knocked jack's knee with your own, mirroring smiles on your faces.

sam just pouted as the game started. "don't have to be such an ass about it," she said, but you could tell by her face that she had accomplished exactly what she had set out to.

you weren't really a baseball fan, but this particular game flew by, probably because of the shaggy-haired, full-lipped person sitting to your left.

the slow pace of the game was cut with conversations about the party tke threw last night (it was lame, jack insisted, and his knowing, shy grin gave you a hint as to the reason why), which led to a conversation about who picks the themes (a board of esteemed individuals, apparently).

"i know it's just nico," sam said, rolling her eyes. "tell him that if he keeps up with the bros and hoes thing a phi isn't coming."

this actually appeared to alarm alex. "you're not serious," he said.

"as death," sam said, nodding.

alex promptly took out his phone and started to text someone. you had the sneaking suspicion it was nico.

jack asked about what you did last night, which led you to talking about your favorite movies.

"you've never seen scream?" you asked, practically confused.

he just shook his head, something glinting in his eyes.

you scoffed. "you have to. it's the best."

"you'll have to show it to me, sometime, then," was his response, which had you blushing, which had you wanting to.

cole never went in, as was expected. he seemed to spend the majority of his time goofing off in the dugout, throwing paper cups at his teammates, then turning away like he had no idea how they'd been hit.

luke threw a great game. he was the kind of player that drew your attention, that you just knew was good, even if you didn't know anything about the sport.

trevor only batted once (he leaned his shoulder into the pitch and took his walk). as an outfielder, he didn't see a ton of action, only getting one real shot at a catch, of course fumbling an easy out, much to the dismay of his teammates.

cole put his head in his hands but welcomed his friend back to the dugout with open arms.

the game ended with a win for the good guys, and you found yourself sticking around, all because jack wanted to wait to congratulate his friends and brother. he extended a hand to you to help you up from your seat, his grip firm and warm against your palm.

your group of four walked down to where the players would exit. you were surprised to find the silence especially comfortable, easy.

at some point, jack slapped his thigh, lightly. "i meant to ask you, baby, what's your coffee order?"

you gave him a confused sort of look. "just hot coffee with oat milk," you answered, almost wary. "why?"

"for next time," he answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world, maybe the most obvious.

you swallowed down how touched you were by this. it felt like ginger, like something you know is good for you but that feels foreign, harsh, anyways. "how do you like your coffee, then?" you asked.

"sweet," he answered, with a smile that made you feel like he knew something you didn't. "really, really sweet."

a chaotic presence shook you both from the haze you'd settled into. "oh, hey, guys." you turned, found your friend sophie there, hands full with a clipboard and her bag and a voice recorder. she pushed her hair from her face. "how's it going?"

"all good, soph," sam answered. "you?"

sophie blew out a breath. "will be good once i get a couple quotes," she said, "just hope they don't give me twenty-two. readers want quotes from impact players, and-"

"sayin' 'm not an impact player, love?" came a goofy approaching voice. you turned again to see cole coming out of the now open exit gate.

sophie groaned. "tell me they're giving me someone else," she pleaded, to which cole grinned wider. "tell me they're giving me someone who played, today."

cole rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles. "might wanna turn on your recorder," he advised, "you're gonna wanna get this."

sophie just rolled her eyes and pulled him to the side, beginning a short interview about the game as you continued to wait.

shortly after, trevor walked out, grinning when he registered the group of you. jack slung an arm around your shoulders as his friend approached, which you noticed. which you would have questioned, maybe, if he didn't pull you into his side in the best of ways, if his touch didn't make you basically delirious. so delirious that you reached a hand up to hold his, dangling from your shoulder.

you could almost hear his satisfied smile as trevor clapped alex on the shoulder in greeting. "packed the stands for us, eh?" he asked, to which alex laughed.

it was the most emotion you'd seen from him. sam appeared very confused, crossed her arms over her chest. "great game," she said.

"yeah," jack continued. "my favorite part was that gorgeous catch in the sixth." he nodded. "seamless."

trevor scoffed, waved jack off. "almost had that one," he insisted. "was this close." he brought two fingers up to show just how close he had been to making that catch.

"you were not," came another voice. you recognized the tall figure as jack's younger brother.

jack clapped his hand in a handshake, congratulated him on the win. you echoed the sentiment, stuck out your hand in greeting, which he shook. "really good game," you said, "i'm-"

"know who you are," luke said, to which you furrowed your brow.

"how?" you asked. luke shared a look with his brother, halfway amused, halfway bored.

jack cleared his throat. "might've mentioned you," he said, but it came out like a mumble, a murmur into your hair.

your heart felt too big for your chest, for a moment. the peanut gallery around you faded away, suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you, standing here. just the two of you, in this universe. "been talkin' about me?" you whispered, and you couldn't help but lean a little more into his side, your grip on his hand growing a little more substantial, a little more confident.

because you'd been someone's secret before, someone's wyd text late at night, someone's nobody, really, someone's a friend. you knew what it felt like to be traded up for, like an old phone, to be the just old enough model that someone looked for someone else, someone newer.

it felt a little spectacular to be someone to write home about, someone to be seen with in broad daylight, someone to be gushed about to a brother. maybe it just felt spectacular to be that kind of someone for jack, in particular.

"a bit," jack breathed into your ear, the softest, probably most uncertain you'd heard him. like he didn't want to scare you away.

you bumped your hip against his. "real chatterbox, hm?" you whispered, adoring the ghost of a flush up his neck, the shy smile he couldn't seem to hide.

"only about stuff that matters," he said, and whatever joke you were going to say died in your mouth, tasted bitter.

luckily, cole and sophie approached, drawing your attention away.

"good to go?" alex asked, to which cole nodded, a smug smile on his face.

sophie huffed. "i don't know why they give me you every damn game," she exclaimed, shoving her recorder and clipboard into her bag. "as if you could give me a useable quote if your life depended on it."

cole scoffed. "i can't help it if your questions are boring as hell," he said. "why don't you ask me something interesting?"

"like what?" sophie asked. "what do you propose i ask you?"

"to dinner next week," cole answered immediately, his smile more of a toothy smirk, and sophie groaned, shook her head.

"i'm out," she said, taking a quick right. she made eye contact with you and sam. "i'll see you back at the house, tonight, girls?"

you both nodded, called out your agreement and goodbye.

when sophie was out of earshot, trevor clapped cole on the shoulder. "don't you get tired of striking out, coley?" he asked.

"you don't seem to, trev," luke observed, to which jack let out a laugh.

"hey, i got a single out of today," trevor argued. no one seemed to view that as the victory that he did.

cole and trevor eventually peeled off to the athlete's dining hall to get lunch, while luke walked back to the row with the group of you, saying something about grabbing a shirt from quinn's room.

when you all made it back, standing in front of the tke house, jack reluctantly retracted his arm from your shoulders. you felt cold without it.

luke headed up to the door.

"luke, tell quinn i say hi, would you?" sam asked, to which he gave some confused confirmation, before disappearing into the house. sam then turned to alex. "a pleasure, as always, al," she said, barely sparing him a second glance.

"yeah, bye?" alex said, almost a question, obviously wary of sam's change in pace.

jack touched your hand, pulled your gaze to his like two magnets, eliciting some kind of shield between you and the rest of the world. "thanks again for coming," he said, so soft, you could feel in your bones that he meant it.

"'course," you said, found it strange that it was entirely true. of course you would come when he called you. of course you'd indulge his every whim, when he asked so politely. "see you on friday? for dance?"

and he gave the slightest of pouts, but it drew your attention to his mouth nonetheless. made your cheeks feel hot, your heart beat fast, nonetheless. "too long, baby," he said, and you could have rolled your eyes at his boyish whine, but you never would. not when he was whining for you.

you just stayed quiet, let yourself smile, slightly. "maybe before friday, then?"

he grinned as if some plan he'd formed had turned out exactly as he'd hoped. "i'll text you," he said, giving you that fairytale smile, and you'd been told that before.

you'd been told that before, during nighttime hours that passed like slug across rain-drenched walkways. you'd been told that while in boxer shorts that weren't your own, standing in a doorframe that was practically laughing at you.

i'll text you, you'd been told, from some guy on his bed, on his phone, not quite looking at you.

and the doorframe might have cackled at how desperate you seemed, then, desperate for something you'd never get from this guy in the room you were leaving.

kick rocks, girl, the doorframe might have said, you know how many i've seen come in and out, even just this week? and you really think you're special?

but, right now, jack told you that he'd text you, and you couldn't find a doubt in your mind. you knew he would.

you proved to be right. the weekend flew by, because you were busy, yes, but also because of the near-ongoing text conversation you had fallen into with jack.

he might ask you something about the classes you were taking (besides ballroom), to which you would shyly tell him about some finance discussion you found genuinely interesting.

you might ask if he played sports at all, like his brother (he played hockey growing up, but wasn't good enough to play in college, like luke was with baseball), to which you would tell him you found it hard to believe that he could ever be not good enough at something.

and you'd believe it, too, wholeheartedly. sure, he had this ease to him, this softness, but he also seemed to possess a specific kind of eagerness, a delicious sort of hunger you felt must lead him to the things he wanted without exception.

you wouldn't admit it to anyone who asked, but he had you smiling at your phone on more than one occasion, had your heart beating a little faster with every notification. he had you dreamy. it was a good look on you.

that's how he had you, just over the phone, so the feeling was amplified by a million the next monday afternoon, after class, on your walk back from the business building, as you passed the tke house. a walk you'd taken a hundred-something times over the years, but this time was different, because your name was being called out of an upstairs window.

your heart stuttered, because you recognized that voice, in its confidence, in its goofy gentleness. you stopped walking, looked up, searching for an open window.

"that you, jack?" you called back, when you found it, found him leaning out of the pane with a smile you could see from where you stood. even though you knew. even though you'd never mistake his tone for anyone else.

he gave a pout. "who else?" he asked, and it was careful, calculated, even though it was playful. like he really wanted to know who else you thought would call your name from a window. like he really wanted to be the only one.

"oh, no one," you assured him, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again, towards your house, "you're my only romeo." you'd meant it in a joking way, but you could tell the first three words were the ones that mattered to him. the ones that would echo in his head. you're my only.

this made him light up, made him glow like a disco ball in a middle school gymnasium. "look so pretty today, baby!" he said, in response, before the distance between you grew so stark.

you flushed, wanted to feel the word pretty from his mouth against your neck, wanted to swallow it down. but you just smiled. "only today?" you asked, wondered where this confidence had come from, tried to imagine you saying that to anyone else. you couldn't.

"come back tomorrow, just to check!" he called out after you, making you shake your head, look down at your feet.

you weren't even back to your front door yet before your phone buzzed. not just today, he'd texted you.

i knew what you meant :), you sent back.

just didn't want you to think differently, he replied, followed by spend a scary amount of time thinking about how pretty you are.

the following day, you'd be lying if you said a smile didn't bloom across your face as you walked back after class, as you approached the tke house. maybe it was some pavlov response, but it was probably because you recognized the figure sitting on the window pane on the top floor, swinging his legs, just looking out, like he was on the top of a pirate ship.

you smiled, but your pulse stuttered, a bit. "jack?" you asked, although of course you knew it was him, that perfect facial structure, shag of soft hair. "is it safe up there?"

his gaze fixed on you, alight with flame and amusement. "worried 'bout me, baby?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but something in you twitched, because you were, actually. when did that happen?

"why're you hanging outta your window?" you asked, because you didn't need to tell him that you cared that much about him, not yet. you barely wanted to admit it to yourself, even.

he seemed to take your deflection as confirmation, anyways, to see right through you, as he typically did. his grin ticked up, a beautiful combination of a bashful blush and confident smile. he pushed his hair from his face. "knew you'd be walkin' by," he said, swung his feet up and back gently. "had to catch you."

you swallowed, ran your palms along the straps of your backpack in delighted disbelief. "you were waiting for me to walk by?" you asked, still not quite understanding.

he only nodded, tilted his head, gave the softest of smirks. it was almost too much. "don't you know you've got me waitin' by the phone, baby?" he asked, melodic. it was almost like he was making fun of you, with that teasing tone, but you knew in your heart that he wasn't. that he would never.

cherry-blossom pink bloomed across the bridge of your nose as his confession registered in your mind. the thought of him throughout his day, acutely aware of his phone in his pocket, his heart racing at every buzz, like yours did. "bein' so patient, are you?" you asked, the words smooth and drowsy in your throat, like cough syrup.

he hummed, swung a leg back over the pane, starting to shift his body back inside. "'m here when you need me, baby," he said, matter-of-fact, absolute. his gaze sharpened, the temperature of it rising to a scorch you felt like a slap. "or when you want me."

it was something sort of breathtaking, how honest he was with you, from the beginning. how he seemed perfectly content just waiting for you to come to terms with the attraction you felt so deeply. the attraction he could see in your eyes, in your breath, in your words.

you were scared, though, because this was the before part. and the guys you'd had before had appeared genuinely interested during the before part, too. it was the after part you were concerned about.

because what if he lost interest as soon as he had you, like the other guys did? he seemed so different, and so genuine, and sure, you'd never thought anyone to be as beautiful as him, but what if he wasn't different? what if he left you, too, standing alone, dumb, a desperate fool?

how many times had a beautiful trick forced your hand? you shivered at the thought, but the romantic in you wanted to believe. in yourself, in him. she wanted to believe in the love story between the beautiful trick and the desperate fool. she needed to.

the following day, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, as you approached tke house on your walk back, to recognize jack's familiar figure in his front yard. he appeared to be making progress closer to you, day by day, from inside his room, to outside his window, to now, just next to the sidewalk.

the scene you approached wasn't necessarily a rare one, not on the row, but it might appear odd to an outsider. a few of the brothers, some that you recognized, were sitting on a couch that they had obviously moved from inside, while a couple others, jack included, were lounging on adirondack chairs. most of them had computers out, doing work, or something like it. and, of course, because it was a sunny afternoon, all of them, save for one, were bare-chested.

you weren't especially sensitive or judgmental when it came to that sort of thing, but, as you got closer, you found your cheeks growing hot, anyways. you were embarrassed like a kid, like you'd been caught with something forbidden, and you might've walked right by the house, avoiding eye contact, if jack hadn't made that impossible.

"tryna sneak by, baby?" he called out from his chair, teasing, his posture so distractingly relaxed, knees spread wide. he waved you over with a knowing smile. "c'mere," he said, but not like a demand. like a request, sweet-sounding from his full mouth.

and you'd do just about anything he asked, so of course you exhaled, turned on your foot, walked nervously from the sidewalk onto the lawn, over to his chair. you nodded your hello to nico, on the couch, on your way, finally stilled in front of jack's chair.

your heart was pounding, your palms felt damp. he'd called you baby, in front of all of his friends, like you weren't something to hide. the opposite, actually, like you were something to show off, someone to be proud of. he looked at you like you were worth something, and he looked so beautiful, drenched in sunlight, so stunning that your throat felt tight.

"hi," you said, internally smacked yourself at how lame you sounded, how dumb.

"hi," jack parroted, his smile growing as he shut his computer, set it down on the ground next to him. you suspected he could probably feel your nerves, your distraction. you suspected he was delighted in it. and that made you feel a bit better, at least. to be his delight, for the moment being. "you know quinn, right?"

you turned your eyes to the chair next to jack, to a face you recognized, the only one in the yard wearing a shirt. "yeah," you answered, giving quinn a small nod, which he returned. "hey, quinn."

the older brother gave you a small smile. "hey," he replied, "heard your sam's been askin' about me."

you laughed, twisted the sole of your sneaker into the grass slowly. "she has," you confirmed, although you highly doubted her interest was genuine. "very recently, at least."

quinn just laughed, gave a slight shake of his head before turning back to his computer. he knew something you didn't, you could tell, but you couldn't focus on that, right now, not when jack's voice called you back from your curious state.

"wanna sit?" he asked, spreading his legs wider as if to make room for you. you scrunched up your nose, slightly, in thought.

"you're not busy?" you asked, sort of shaky, shifting on your feet.

he shook his head, gave his thigh a soft pat in invitation. "wanna hear about your day," he said, and you could have swooned.

you set down your backpack next to his laptop, on the grass, let him pull you onto his lap. you settled into his chest, crossed your feet over the far armrest, rested your hands in your own lap as he draped a heavy arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

you tried not to ruminate too hard on how warm he was, how his bare skin seemed to spark against you like an electric shock. jesus, had you ever been so awkward?

"nervous, eh?"

you looked up at him, found his smile lazy but his eyes attentive, almost concerned. you nodded, because who could lie to those eyes? "you make me nervous," you said, plainly, because it was true.

he fixed you with that starry gaze, his mouth dipping slightly into something like relief. you were confused, your brow furrowing as he took your hand in his free one, brought your fingers up to his neck, just below his ear. he pressed your index and middle finger into his soft skin until you could feel his pulse, until it vibrated through you.

until you could feel just how fast his heart was beating. you felt molten, all over, like day-old valentine's day chocolate over a flame.

you rubbed careful circles into his neck, as if to soothe the underlying pace. "like you just ran up the stairs," you said, and it came out like a whisper. jack just huffed a laugh, let his hand fall to the top of your legs. there was something mesmerizing in his eyes when he looked at you, then. "thank you," you added, a breath.

"make me nervous, too, baby," he said, so soft only you could hear. his mouth twisted into a teasing grin. "'m just better at hidin' it."

you rolled your eyes, but relaxed deeper into him, all the same, leaning your head back on his extended arm, shifting across his lap. "guess 'll have to get better at it, then," you said, a small smile on your face.

he just shook his head. "hope you don't," he told you. "hope you never hide from me."

your tongue felt too big for your mouth, then, so you just asked about his day, told him about yours, felt yourself grow more and more comfortable with each passing second, as the sun peeled across the sky like a sweet orange. you had homework to do, but you lost track of time, talking with him about everything and nothing, about nonsense and significance. you found yourself hanging off of his words like they were his lips, found yourself laughing so genuinely and sharing more with him than you had with a new person in a long, long time.

his laugh rang in your head like church bells. everything he said to you felt like a secret, like something just between the two of you. people moved to and from the lawn as you spoke, as you listened, but neither of you seemed to notice. the hours melted away in moments.

"jesus, there you are," came a loud voice from the sidewalk, pulling you from your bubble. you turned, found sam, a hand on her hip, looking right at you. "would it kill you to answer your phone?"

guilt bloomed in your chest. you hadn't thought to check your phone in what must have been an eternity. you quickly picked yourself up from jack's lap to grab it from your bag, caught a glimpse of his pout, which made your stomach flip. you scrolled through your notifications, winced at the texts you'd missed, mostly sam asking where you were. "i'm sorry," you said, looking up at her, and you meant it.

sam didn't hold grudges, though, had better things to do. it was one of the things you loved about her. so she just waved you off, approached you where you knelt next to your phone. she tilted her chin up at jack in greeting before noticing his brother. "'sup, quinn," she said, pushing her glasses to the top of her head. "didn't get the tarps-off memo, did you?"

quinn looked up, smiled right back at her. his gaze darted to the front door of the house and back in a second, almost undetectable, but you noticed it, noticed quinn's grin grow almost devious. "sorry to disappoint, sammy," he said, emphasis heavy on the nickname, his eyes settling on the door again. he coughed, nodded his head. "hey, uh, alex."

you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, shared a look with jack, who touched your shoulder lightly. just to say are you getting this? just to say i'm right here with you. as if you'd forget.

sam spun around to face alex, who stood on the front steps, hands in the pockets of his shorts. he wasn't looking at sam, though. he was glaring daggers at quinn, who was acting oblivious, practically humming contently in his seat.

"excuse me?" sam's voice was pitched. "what the hell are you wearing?"

your eyes widened as you registered the front of alex's t-shirt. it was a pretty pale yellow, with some bid day slogan on it, over three identical triangles. alex was wearing something tri delt.

you felt jack lean forward, his mouth right by your ear. "that from this year's bid day?" he asked. you nodded slowly, so as to let the scene unfold in front of you without disruption.

alex just looked down at his shirt, shrugged, appeared to be the picture of confidence, even arrogance. "what's the big deal?"

sam rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest. "tri delt, al, really?" sam sighed, then began to pull at the sleeves of her own sweatshirt, tug it over her head. of course, she was wearing only a bra underneath. of course, she didn't care.

quinn laughed, let out a whistle.

jack's laugh shook through you as he leaned forward, rested his forehead on your shoulder blade. you grinned at the intimacy of it, of letting him hide his laugh in you.

sam exhaled again, her sweatshirt now in her hand, which she extended to alex as she fixed her glasses. "here," she said, impatient.

alex narrowed his eyes, took the blue mass of fabric, pulled it over his head.

sam didn't wait to see him put it on, like she didn't need to check, instead turning on her heel, in pajama pants and pretty much nothing else, and began to walk back towards the a phi house. she gestured your way, "let's go, you," she ordered.

you scurried to grab your bag, pushed up on your feet, touched your fingers to jack's chin, lightly, before making to follow her. "movie tomorrow?" you asked, emboldened by hours of comfort, of being made to feel comfortable.

"yes, please," jack said, and the way he smiled up at you was something of dreams. "i'll text you, yeah?" you nodded, turned to run after your roommate.

"pleasure as always, madam president," nico called out from the couch, to which sam scoffed.

you caught up with her, hugged her into your side. "feeling feisty, eh?" you asked.

"tri delt," she said, biting, "what a moron, honestly. who does he think he is?"

you laughed. "i don't think he's thinking about anyone in tri delt, right now," you tried.

"and don't think we're not talking about you," she said, wagging a warning finger at you, "disappearing for hours, just for me to find you in the lap of a," she gasped dramatically, for emphasis, "frat boy!"

and you did talk about it, later, in the comfort of your room. you talked about jack, and how special he made you feel, and how patient he was with you, and how different he seemed.

and you talked about how scared you were, how you were so worried that as soon as you gave him any more of you, he'd take it all and run like blue and red flashed in the rearview. how you were more scared now, probably than ever before, because of how ready you were to give him whatever he wanted, and after such a short time of knowing him, too. to give him all of you, if he asked.

or, at least, to give him enough of you that, if he did run, he would leave nothing left.

sam listened, and asked questions, and talked for a long while, but the gist of it was that sometimes good things are scary. sometimes to be scared is to care, and sometimes to care is to be human.

"jesus, just look at me," she said, "make a fool out of myself on the daily for that scumbag, and look where it gets me." she sighed. "minus one sweatshirt and plus one poor boy calling me sammy."

you laughed. "you're a lot of things," you mused, "but you're no fool."

unlike you, foolish one, some voice in your head taunted, low and mean. your nose twitched.

sam hummed. "so, i should be out of the room tomorrow night?"

you groaned, hung your head in your hands. "it's a terrible idea, right?" you asked. "of course he's going to think something specific when i asked him to watch a movie at my place, hm?"

she just laughed at your anguish, put her hands up in surrender. "hey, you asked him," she pointed out. "not like he snapped you u up? at three a.m."

you scrunched up your nose. "i guess," you said.

"you make the rules," sam reminded you, "you set the pace." she fixed you with a look. "but you seem to like the fast track, love." she gestured to her cheeks. "you're glowing with it."

and maybe she was right. but you didn't feel like you were glowing, the following night, the night jack was supposed to come over.

you'd fussed over your hair and your clothes and your general being, made and remade your bed, folded all the clothes in your closet, as if he would be doing a thorough inspection.

you felt scattered, scared, so devastatingly nervous. you caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, almost flinched at the lack of confidence you found, the physical embodiment of anxiety. it seemed to web under your eyes like spiders, seemed to coat your skin like dull plaster.

it was sort of odd you felt so anxious, you thought, because you trusted jack. you trusted him so much, so truly. brutal memories had your sense of security all twisted around, though. at the moment, you couldn't quite grasp his lips against your temple, you couldn't tangibly touch his kind smile, didn't have the echo of his reassuring words in your ear.

you just felt crazy. crazy for wanting to trust him, somehow even more crazy for not being able to just let go. how badly you wanted to let go of the past, of your insecurities, of your fears.

it was almost like you were being pulled between two realties. you felt the stretch in the lines on your palms, in the seam of your mouth, in your breastbone. it was a pull between the kind of fear you found some deranged sort of certainty in and the future, what could be, what you could almost taste, if you'd just let yourself relax. if you'd only let yourself enjoy it.

why do you have to remember every embarrassment and failure? some voice in your head screamed, why can't you just be normal? you swallowed around your sadness, because he'd probably want someone normal, right? he probably wouldn't want you.

as if summoned by your despair, your attention was pulled upwards by a knock on your window, a few quick raps. you squinted, were shocked to find jack's pretty face on the other side of the glass.

you lived on the first floor, so it wasn't necessarily unsafe, or anything, but the front door was right there, and he was early. he was early, and you looked like a mess, felt like an even bigger one.

still, you walked over to the window, pulled it open. "what're you doing?" you asked, cleared your throat to hide the shake in your voice.

his blue eyes flashed with something like recognition, gone again in a moment. "am i too early?" he asked, like some impatient kid on christmas morning. "i can wait by the front door for another hour, if you want." you could have sighed in his voice, this specific tone that calmed you like lavender, the one that was almost making fun of you, but not quite.

even in your chaotically disorganized state, you just left the window open, stepped back. "'course you can come in now," you said, welcoming him in. you gave him a bit of a laugh, but it sounded kind of sad as it came out. "'m sorry about all this," you said, giving a rough gesture to your room, yourself, as you sat at the foot of your bed. "i'd probably have fixed it by the time you were supposed to get here."

he climbed into your room, and the sight was so intimate it made your chest contract. when he looked up at you, confusion dripped down his gaze like candle wax. "what do you mean?" he asked, coming to sit next to you, warm and easy. "fix what?"

you gave him a half-smile, genuinely believed he was just being polite. "i know i look crazy," you said, running your fingertips under your eyes. "i feel crazy."

his eyes filled with kind concern, not pity, but just care. he tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you into his chest in an embrace that felt like a midday nap, exactly what you needed. "then i'm happy i couldn't stay away, crazy girl," he said, and it was so soft it hurt. "tell me." a request, only because he wanted to know. he wanted to know you.

and, after a sigh, you did tell him, just as you'd told sam. you told him about how scared you were, about how you could feel how he was different, how you knew it like some philosophical principle, but how you were terrified, anyways.

you told him about how dumb, how juvenile and stupid you'd felt, over and over again, just for wanting to be taken seriously, just for wanting someone to deem you worthy of something longer than a night. just for wanting someone to stay. you told him about how you'd had people be so sweet and kind and caring, but they'd still left after they'd gotten what they'd wanted.

and you sort of felt pathetic as you spoke, and you half expected him to laugh, to tell you that you were like every other girl, expecting un-promised things from some poor guy. but, of course, he didn't. of course, he just held you to his chest, listened to you the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles into your upper arm.

"i don't want you to think that i think you're a bad guy," you made sure to say, looking up at him, "and i don't want you to think that i don't care about your life, and your anxieties, and stuff, just because i'm rambling about mine." you let your eyes flood with everything you were feeling. "but i also don't want you to think i'm disinterested, or bored, or something."

he hummed, and it was quiet, for a moment, as your words rolled around his head. "what do you want me to think, then?" he asked, finally, gently.

you leaned your head on his shoulder, thought for a second. "i want you to know that i'm into you," you landed on, and the truth tasted sweet on your tongue. "and i want to ask you to keep being patient with me, please." your mouth quirked up. "like you already are, i guess."

his smile was something dreamy before he pressed his lips to your hair. "how about this?" he said, a murmur, "how about you let me try to convince you i'm staying, hm? trust me to?"

you found yourself nodding.

"and if you want something, you just ask me, okay, baby?" he amended. "ask me, and i'll be here. promise."

you looked up at him through your lashes. "thank you," you breathed, after a pause, because a promise was something special. him being so soft with you was something special, too.

he gave a slight shrug, his smile almost a smirk. "you told me you're into me, baby," he said, like that explained everything.

you just laughed into his shoulder, felt fear melt away, dissolve into the air. "what did you come over for, again?" you joked, because you were supposed to be watching a movie, and instead you'd unloaded all this information on him. instead, you'd told him how you felt.

but he didn't seem to hear the joke in your tone. "to see you," he said, simply, making you flush.

eventually, you watched the second scream movie, which was your favorite, and you asked about his day, and you continued to add to the filing cabinet of information about jack that existed in your mind. eventually, the dim light and night air made your words slow and your eyes droopy. eventually, the two of you fell asleep.

when your eyes fluttered awake, sunlight poured in through your curtains like flour through a sieve. your limbs felt stiff, your neck tight, having fallen asleep in an awkward position, but your head was clear, not foggy at all. you'd slept scarily well.

a slight shift on your mattress drew your attention, and your eyes widened when you registered jack, still asleep, still in the clothes he'd come in last night. you looked around to find your laptop on the floor, jack's sweatshirt halfway off the side of the bed.

checking your phone for the time, you mouthed a curse, because you were already late for your eight a.m. you must have forgotten to set your alarm for this morning. admittedly, you had been awfully busy last night, in a comfortable sort of way. you'd had much more important things on your mind than today's lecture, namely the way jack's voice grew rougher as the hours passed. namely, how he shared things with you like he trusted you with everything, like he knew you'd take care of him.

you silently rose, crept to the bathroom to brush your teeth and quickly get ready. when you emerged again, you were relieved to find his eyes still closed.

he looked so peaceful, like this, so blissful, almost angelic. the morning sun settled on his face, the crown of his head like a halo, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.

as you pulled on a different shirt and shorts, you couldn't help the small smile that stretched across your face. because, you remembered, you'd told him everything, and he had stayed. when you looked over at him, he didn't disappear. he was really, genuinely there, and had felt comfortable enough in your bed, in your space, to fall asleep with his arm under your neck, with his knee grazing your hip.

only when you picked up your backpack did he stir, reaching a hand to rub over his face, stretching with a groan that made you blush. when he retracted his hand, resting it up against your headboard, his sleepy gaze found yours. he smiled, an instinct, a compulsion. you smiled back. "tryna sneak out on me?" he said, yawning halfway through.

you approached the side of the bed he was laying on, by your nightstand, bent down and sat back on your heels so you were close to eye level with him. "no," you told him, honestly. you pushed his hair back from his face, and he hummed at your touch, eyes drowsy, getting used to the light from the window. perhaps still getting used to the light of you. "just didn't want to wake you."

he exhaled, and you felt the heat of it on your arm. "going to class?" he asked.

you nodded, smiled. "but i'll see you later, maybe?" you asked, hopeful. "i'll text you?"

"please," was his reply.

before you pushed up from your knees, though, you bit your lip with indecision. "jack," you began.

"yeah, baby?" he asked, almost confused, certainly intrigued.

"remember when you said to tell you when i want something?" you tone had grown cautious.

"'course," he said, reaching a hand forward, under your chin, to keep your eyes trained on his.

you swallowed, shifted. "i want something."

he smiled, shy, in a flash of teeth, just so, so pleased. "anything," he answered, sleep now gone from his gaze, replaced with something sharper, something beautiful. "anything." he said it like a plea.

you breathed out, searched his eyes, then leaned forward slowly, pressed your lips gently to his. only for a second, soft as anything, barely there, before making to pull away again.

then his broad hand was on the side of your face, though, guiding you back to his mouth, this time harder in commitment but not in force. the positioning was kind of awkward, with him propped up on his elbow, and he tasted a little bitter from the morning, and your heart felt like it was buzzing, but it was perfect. it was perfect, all of it, because it was with him.

no running away, his kiss seemed to scream at you, not from me.

you hoped he could sense your promise by the way you reached an arm around his neck, by the way you relaxed into his mouth, practically a sigh of relief.

he felt like lazy laundry days and laughing in the kitchen and pinkie promises. he smelled like worn-out cologne from the night before. he felt like trust, and belief, and something meaningful. he felt like something, someone, you could get used to. someone you wanted to, at least.

you both pulled away, at some point, only just barely, enough to catch your breath. you ran your nails along the nape of his neck, watched his glossy gaze settle on you.

"'m really gonna be late, now," you said, dumb, but you didn't really care. you had greater things to care about, it seemed.

he laughed, and you felt it in your fingers. "they're lucky they're getting you at all," he said, and it was a rasp. his smile grew lopsided. "or maybe 'm the lucky one."

you gave a slight shake of your head. he just said these kinds of things, and he didn't think about how they'd make your vision spin. how terribly inconsiderate. "i'll see you later?" you clarified, giving his shoulder a squeeze before getting up, lugging your backpack on.

he nodded, still a bit dazed, it seemed.

the thought made you smile. "bye, jack," you said, on your way out.

"bye, baby," he called out after you, a sing-song. you could hear the happiness leaking from his voice, could almost taste it.

time passed quickly and blissfully, from there. the semester began to rush forward in a flurry of classes and chapter meetings and philanthropy obligations, all which were cut with movie nights with jack in your room, nights on which he slept over more often than not (you swore every time he came over he stole a different sweatshirt of yours. your closet was starting to look scarce, but whenever you saw him push the too-tight sleeves up on his forearms, you couldn't find it in yourself to mind), dance class on friday afternoons (you didn't know how someone could be so tragically terrible at ballroom as you seemed to be, but you looked forward to it, all the same), parties at tke on the weekends (you grew to know his friends and brothers and their girlfriends, grew to be a part of their little world).

tonight was one of those parties, and you were in your room, trying to figure out what you were going to wear, before sam burst in the door.

"we're not going," she said, plain and simple, sitting on her bed.

you looked at her with a raised brow. "why not?" your eyes widened. "what did alex do?"

she rolled her eyes. "it's not alex," she explained. "i told nico no more bros and hoes bullshit a long time ago, and he didn't listen." she shook her head, as if disappointed. "what is the theme, if not golf bros and tennis club hoes?"

you gave a light laugh. "so we're actually not going?"

"nope," sam declared, "already put it in the chat. a phi is boycotting."

as if on cue, you received a text from jack that read coming tonight?

haven't you heard, you sent back, a phi is on strike :)

you accepted his almost instantaneous face-time request, grinning as his pretty features filled your screen. "what do you mean you're on strike?" was his immediate question.

"hi to you, too, jack," you teased, your stomach flipping when his eyes filled with something soft.

"hi, baby, 'm sorry," he amended, and his voice was genuine.

you waved his apology off lightheartedly. "i'm under strict presidential orders," you told him, "apparently nico didn't heed the warning about the bros and hoes thing."

jack groaned, then looked away from the screen for a second. "they're not coming," he called out to someone, "like, actually, all of a phi is not coming."

"and we're not budging!" sam called out from her bed.

"is that sam?" came another voice from jack's end. "put her on."

and so the phones were passed to alex and sam, respectively.

"c'mon, sam," alex said, the most emotion you'd heard from him in a while. "you guys need to come out. we need you there."

it was true, sort of. they needed girls there, and a phi was plentiful with pretty smiles and kind laughs.

"no can do, al," sam said, smug. "tke needs to learn their lesson."

alex blinked.

"will you put nico on, please?" sam asked, syrupy sweet. "i have some choice words for him."

"no, you can't talk to nico," alex responded, short.

"what's the deal, madam?" came a very nico-sounding voice, off screen. "it's a good theme, eh? think you'd look great in a tennis skirt."

you rolled your eyes.

"what, won't let him talk without his lawyer present?" sam pressed.

jack's laugh was bright. you felt it through the screen.

"he can talk to you when he puts a shirt on," was the curt response.

you smirked. alex was not doing a very good job of shielding his emotions, not anymore.

"you know me better than that, don't you?" sam asked, almost offended. "not one to get distracted easily by a bare chest."

alex sighed, rubbed a hand over his face.

"are you saying you get distracted by nico's abs, al?" sam continued. "i mean, i get it, even if i can't relate personally."

"you're not talking to him, sam," alex said. "our theme for tonight is not up for debate. it's too late."

sam gave a dramatic sigh, appeared deep in thought.

"well, can i talk to quinn, then?" sam said. "not for any reason, really, just want to see his face."

you bit your lip out of frame, smiled, because you had a feeling jack was doing something similar. you had a feeling that if you were in the same room, right now, you'd be sharing a knowing glance, a hidden laugh. you felt warm with that knowledge.

"quinn's busy," alex bit out. you could almost hear his grinding teeth.

sam just gave a theatrical pout that had you giggling.

"shame," sam said, a winning smile on her face.

you heard alex's deep exhale. "you're killing me, here, beautiful," he said, a sigh. your eyes widened. was alex finally breaking?

sam just hummed. "'s that my sweatshirt you're wearing, al?" she asked. "color looks nice on you."

then she handed the phone back to you, walked from the room, and when you looked down at the screen, alex was gone, too, leaving only the soft slope of jack's nose, messy hair in his face. "hi," you said, a smile bubbling free.

"hi," he parroted. "if you're not coming, then, what're you doing tonight?"

you shrugged. "probably just watching a movie here," you said. "nothing crazy."

his nose twitched, his eyes shone with an unasked question.

"wanna join?" you asked, loving the way his face lit up at your invitation.

he sucked on his teeth, and your stomach coiled with heat at the sight. "think 'm technically supposed to be here," he said, to which you pouted. "but i might be able to sneak out."

"sneak outta your own party?" you asked, a light laugh on your mouth like a sparkly gloss.

"for you," he added, which made your laugh settle into something dangerous.

you scrunched up your face in delight. "'ll leave my window open, then," you said.

"thank you, baby," he said, waited for you to hang up first.

you did leave your window open, let the cool nighttime breeze ease in, blowing your curtains slightly, the edges of your sheets by your feet. you were comfortably on your side, your mind quiet as your eyes lazily took in your computer screen.

the tassels on your drapes seemed to sing at jack's knock on the window pane. the fixtures in your room seemed to relax, the wood of your desk turning malleable, the light on the ceiling to burn hotter, dimmer.

play it cool, you wanted to shush them, the way you whisper to your friends in middle school when your crush walks past your locker, just act normal.

your smile crept up on you, slow and genuine, as he swung his other leg over, shut the window again, immediately kicking off his sneakers and collapsing on top of you, the weight of him almost oppressive against your chest, your face.

you laughed nonetheless, wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him closer, to breathe him in. you felt his neck relax, his heavy head hang just above your shoulder. he let out a breath, like he was exhaling everything heavy. like he was making space for you in his lungs, in his chest, in his being.

you rubbed gentle circles into his back over his sweatshirt. "successful jailbreak?" you murmured, your voice muffled into his chest.

he pressed his lips to your shoulder, gently, before rolling off of you, soft as anything but sparking heat between the two of you nonetheless. "you've made a fugitive out of me," he joked, laying an arm over your torso and pulling you into his side.

"sure they won't be missing you?" you asked, brushing his hair from his face. his eyes simmered with something lovely.

he gave a shrug you felt through your whole body. "if i was there, i'd be missin' you," he clarified in explanation. of course, your heart stuttered like a shy kid giving a speech at an all-school assembly.

"i'm glad you're here," you said, soft, the words not feeling like nearly enough. you hooked one leg around his, tangling the two of you further, then rethought your action.

because you'd known guys who'd groan at this kind of thing from you, who would warn you not to start something you couldn't finish, who would call you a tease or something much meaner.

but, of course, jack did no such thing. he just relaxed deeper into the position, nodded towards your abandoned computer. "what're we watching?" he asked.

you swallowed. it struck you as weird, that his endless patience and kindness sparked something hot in your stomach, that you wanted to give him anything and everything, all because he would never demand it of you.

his hand on your back suddenly felt heavy, his leg under yours too warm. you hummed, tilted your head up to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

you could feel him smile against your lips. "what's that for, baby?" he asked, rough.

"for you," you answered, simply.

you felt his pleased exhale in your bones as he took your chin in his hand, led your mouth to his in a deeper kiss, this time, one that felt like coffee mugs with lipstick on the rim, like good morning texts before you wake up, like burning fireplaces in the winter, fragrant and lively. "so sweet for me, baby," he mumbled against your mouth.

you sighed, ran your fingertips along his jaw, found courage in the blue of his eyes that willed your nerves away. "can i have something, please?"

"anything," he answered, softly, immediately, as he always had.

you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, wondering what you were actually asking for. "i just want," you started, uncertain, then started again. "just-"

you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale, reaching an arm around his neck, shifted your body until you were on top of him, kissed him with something feverish in your veins. he let out some kind of whimper-ish sound, so strained, so desperate, as his hand found your hips, held you to him with intention.

you kissed him like you were burning, like you needed him to taste the flame of your want, like your desire was some burden you couldn't possibly shoulder alone.

he didn't seem to mind, anyways, quite the opposite - he kissed you back like he'd take anything you'd give him, like the fire you were exuding was water in a drought, like you were some fabled savior. like you were saving him.

you pulled gently at the hem of his pink sweatshirt, or yours, rather, withdrew slightly to help him tug it off. he was so beautiful, always, but especially now, glowing in the light of your bedroom, flushed entirely because of you, eyelids heavy with attraction.

you stilled, straddling his hips, his back against your headboard as you traced the veins in his arms with your fingertips.

his thumbs slipped under your sleep shorts, rubbed feather-light circles into the flesh of your hips. "tell me what you need, baby," he said. "whatever you want, swear it."

you bit your lip to dull your smile, because you realized, in that moment, that there was no semblance of fear in your mind. not even a drop of doubt. you knew, that no matter what you gave to him, no matter how much of yourself you offered up, he wouldn't leave you, dumb and ashamed, standing alone in some taunting doorway. he'd stay.

the fact made unfiltered want flow through you, powerful as a river after heavy rain.

you met his gaze with a confidence that hadn't been there in a long time, that he seemed to pull from you with ease. you rocked your hips against his lap, relished in the strain you saw in his eyes. "wanna feel you inside me," you rasped, continuing to shift back and forth. "wanna make you feel good, hm?"

you felt his groan in your teeth as he flipped you on your back in a single, swift motion, left messy, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck. he didn't saw anything about how long he'd been waiting, about how long you'd made him wait, and you had a feeling it was because he genuinely didn't care.

you had a feeling the only thing he cared about, in this current moment, was the feeling of your collarbone under his teeth, the way your hands rooted in the curls of his hair, the not-nearly-enough friction of his grinding hips against yours.

you both twisted and tugged clothes aside, hurried, almost crazed, until you could take him in your palm, hard and hot, run your grip up and down his length, urging a groan from his throat that you wanted to taste. his exhales were so, so labored as his hips jerked towards you involuntarily.

your eyes widened, because you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be with someone like this, to be with someone whom you trusted entirely, someone whose pleasure you could feel as deeply as if it was your own. it made your blood feel volcanic as it beat from your heart.

"please, jack," you begged, and his overwhelmed gaze found yours, again.

"i know, baby," he cooed, running his fingers through your folds, cursing under his breath at how wet he found you, from barely being touched. all from him. your grip around him faltered as he pushed two fingers inside of you, the stretch immediate. "i know." you cursed, shut your eyes as he thumbed your clit, making your breath feel heavy in your mouth. he retreated further. "just wanna taste you first, baby, please?"

you just nodded, perfectly happy to give him any he wanted. then his mouth was on you, his tongue slow, methodical, as you tugged at his hair, your face pinched in pleasure.

pressure coiled inside of you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your back arch up of your bed, the friction dreamy.

the weight of him pressed your hips down, heightening the sensation, making each motion of his fingers feel like an eruption of flame, each swipe of his tongue feel monumental.

you choked out a whine of his name, pulled on his curls just a little harder, lewd, slick noises echoing in your ears. "more," you breathed, to which he groaned, rocked his hips against the bed, desperate for some kind of friction, some kind of relief. the sight had you clenching around his fingers.

"not enough?" he asked, his voice gentle, the fervor of his motions anything but. "need more, do you, pretty thing?" you nodded, whimpered a please, which had him pulling his deft fingers from you, shifting closer to you. he angled his cock to your core, held your hips down with his other hand. he hummed. "you can have it, baby."

your eyes fluttered shut as he began to push inside of you with a moan that you swore made your lampshade blush, made the conservative hangers in your closet shake their heads, disappointed. you grasped at his forearm with a reaching hand, fisted the other in your cotton sheets, the texture heightened in your palm.

you felt the stretch everywhere, half expected your bedroom to crack in half, to feel the pressure just as acutely as you did. "almost there, baby, 'atta girl," he bit out, "fuck, feel so good for me."

you whined at his words, at the feeling of him all the way inside of you, that perfect stretch that gave way to something deliriously good as he began to move and in out, slow, deep.

you felt your eyes roll back, as if in slow motion, as you dug your nails into his arm, shuddered at the sensation as he pressed your hips harder into your mattress. "'s so deep, jack, fuck," you breathed, careful as a wince.

he held the top of your headboard with a steady grip, increased his pace. when he spoke, his voice was gritty. "that okay, baby?" he asked, shifting your hips to make you more comfortable, to make the angle feel better. "how's that?"

"so good," you moaned, raw, "feel you everywhere."

and it was true. he thrust in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace, with an intensity that burned through your body. time seemed to freeze, or maybe to liquify, to flow like molten rock. to scatter into oblivion, marked in breathy pants and strained moans, desperate kisses and tired muscles instead of minutes and seconds.

at some point, he took his hand off of your headboard, brought it to his mouth, bit down, as if to stifle a groan, as if to distract himself, last longer for you.

the thought shot right to your core, made your head spin faster, that his pleasure might run so deep, because of you, that he needed a distraction from it.

you moved your hand to your clit, rubbing carefully, moaning at the stimulation, which made you clench down, grip him in a maddening kind of way.

he gave a choked moan. "fuck," he grunted. "can't, jesus, can't do it, baby, so wet for me." his voice was a tortured sort of overwhelmed as his hips sputtered, as his pace continued, harder, faster.

he made to look away from you, maybe to sink his teeth into the flesh of his hand, again, but you wouldn't let him, instead reaching up to pull his fingers to your own mouth, press them against your tongue, soothe the angry red mark that had begun to show.

you swore your mind was somewhere else, somewhere shiny, somewhere sleepy, as you felt his stomach and thighs contract, firm and wiry.

"won't last like this, pretty thing," he breathed, a slight sheen on his collarbones, his forehead, shimmery under the overhead light. "so close, baby, feel too good for me." his exhale was unsteady. "so perfect like this."

"want it," you whined, so impossibly close, yourself. "need it so bad, baby, please. want all of it." your eyes met his. "need you."

he seemed to shatter at your words, at your request, his high, warm and hazy, triggering your own, a blur of whines and pleases and his hot breath at your temple, an all-consuming wave that had your vision blurring, had you clenching down on him so tightly.

he collapsed on top of you for the second time that night, this time his skin glowy and damp, the air sticky and humid as you both let your breathing normalize again, as you let your eyes flutter open.

he rolled to your side, refusing to unclasp his arms around your back, consequently pulling you to his chest, your nose against his breastbone. you traced a hand along the top of his spine, so perfectly content, so wonderfully blissful.

with anyone else, now would be the time when the anxiety really set in. now would be the time that the furniture started to hiss at you to get out.

such anxiety was nowhere to be found, though, not now. not with him. his rough hands felt soft on your back as he shifted deeper into your bed, making himself comfortable, making you comfortable, too, in succession.

and even though you knew it, he knew you, just so, so well. "'m staying," he whispered into your hair, "long as you'll let me."

your heart was pink jello in your chest. you pressed your swollen lips to his shoulder. "i'll let you," you promised.

and so your self-proclaimed frat-boy-ban was broken, completely done away with, replaced instead by the most delicious stability.

the already fast-paced semester was made a fairytale blur by your beautiful exception, in all of his endless kindness, his unrelenting loveliness.

how many afternoons did you spend in his lap, out on his front lawn? how many nights did you fall asleep together, tangled up in each other? how many parties started with his hat backwards on his head, but ended with it on yours, instead? when did you start to leave your window open, every night? how many mornings did he surprise you with coffee, remembering your order like it mattered, simply because it was something you'd told him? how many times did his beauty and thoughtfulness surprise you, again and again?

like the time you went with him to a baseball game, an away one, this time, to support his friends and brother, when you insisted that you'd drive. you'd had to stop for gas, halfway through, gotten out of your truck, had only just stuck the nozzle in before he'd come around the side to lean against the door.

you had felt yourself raise a brow, almost confused. "sort of a one person job," you'd joked, to which he'd smiled, leaned back further against the side, just waiting with you.

like he couldn't bear to sit in the passenger seat, alone, not when you were out here, hands idle.

or like the night of your ballroom dance midterm performance, in front of an audience (an audience that included a lot of your friends). you'd stumbled halfway through the steps, nothing crazy, but certainly enough to notice. your face had grown hot, an embarrassed strawberry-milk flush.

but then, across the stage, jack had tripped over his own feet, in a way that looked pretty intentional, if you thought so yourself, as if he wanted to draw everyone's attention for a moment. as if he wanted to keep any potentially judgmental eyes off of you. he caught your knowing gaze as he pushed himself off of the floor, shot you a cheeky wink.

or, like tonight, a phi's blind date formal. this event was always a highlight of the year, at the very least always entertaining, always a good source of drama, of gossip, for a few weeks following.

planning it was a nightmare, from what sam had told you, a disorienting flurry of spreadsheets and communications with different frats and teams. typically, each house was matched with a frat and an athletic roster, and the dates were assigned from there, based on survey results and different requests.

you were excited for tonight, not nervous at all, because you'd requested jack as your date, and sam practically ran the whole thing, so you knew there would be no surprises.

for you, tonight was just a fun opportunity to dress up, to hang out with your best friends and your favorite boy.

the reveal of the dates was one of the best parts of the night. you'd be called upon to come out the door, and your date was supposed to be standing on the front step to walk you to the venue of the formal, just a few blocks away.

you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, turned to sam as you slung your clutch over your shoulder. "ready?" you asked, to which sam gave herself a spritz of perfume, nodded. you held the door for her. "did you tell me already if you requested somebody?"

she gave you a grin. "quinn," she said, simply.

you laughed. "you're gonna drive poor alex crazy," you chided.

she just shrugged. "he's driving me crazy, more like," she corrected. "all he does is bitch and moan when i mention other guys, then he wears my sweatshirt like it's all he owns, calls me beautiful, all that nonsense." she gave you a look. "i'm losing hope, love. if he doesn't make a legitimate move soon, i might go for quinn for real, just for all his trouble."

when it was your turn to open the front door, you took a breath, turned the handle, weren't surprised to find that familiar figure on the other side, pink flowers in his hand, his suit fitting him so wonderfully, his eyes softening when they caught on you.

your smile came easily, so naturally, as you approached him. he reached an arm around your middle, pulled you into his embrace by the small of your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to his jaw in greeting before he pulled back.

"let me get a look at you," he said, soft, holding your hand at a distance, giving you a twirl that made you feel like a princess. he whistled. "i'm the one on your arm, tonight, pretty thing?" he asked, his smile toothy. "must be my lucky night."

you flushed with contentment, ducked into his side. "i'm the lucky one," you insisted, before the door opened again, making the two of you move to the sidewalk as he handed you your flowers, which you accepted with bashful thanks.

sam now stood in the open doorframe, but her wandering eyes narrowed when they landed on the curly-haired boy that stood on the front step. "what the hell is this about, alex?" she hissed.

"you look lovely, sam," alex said, undeterred.

"yeah, okay, thanks," sam said, "you know i requested-"

"i know," alex interrupted. "i vetoed your reuqest." he offered her his arm, which she took, lightly, reluctantly.

"that's not how this works," she reminded him, "you don't get a veto."

"i'm the president," he deadpanned, "of course i get a veto."

"i'm the president," sam retorted, "and i requested-"

alex sighed, turned to face sam, placed his palm over her mouth. "stop," he said, short, "talking."

her eyes narrowed, and jack pinched your side as you took in the sight in front of you. you shared an excited look.

"please be my date, tonight," alex asked, removing his hand from sam's face only after her mouth stopped moving. "for real."

after a brief pause, sam's mouth broke into a wide grin as she looped her arm through alex's, fell into step behind you and jack. "get up off your hands and knees, al," she teased, "'course i'll be your date. waited long enough, haven't i?"

it was a storybook sort of night from there, one defined by shared laughter and good music and gushing with your friends about their dresses.

time passed too fast in a blur of dance-floor spins that made the hem of your dress bloom, gentle touches and laughs into shoulders.

at some point, you and sam took a break by the edge of the venue, next to the refreshment table, having promised to bring jack back a drink. sophie approached you. you smiled, having not really seen her since the last chapter meeting.

"hey, sophie," you said, "this dress is stunning on you."

"thank you," sophie said, genuinely, before her eyes flashed. "if you see cole come up behind me, warn me, okay?"

"isn't cole your date, though?" sam asked.

sophie sighed. "technically, yes," she admitted, "but he thinks i requested him, which i didn't, so now he's being especially persistent."

you tilted your head. "so you got paired together because your survey results matched up? completely organically?"

"i guess," she answered, exasperated. "which i don't get, because we have, like, nothing in common."

"you have a little in common," sam said, "you both love baseball. it's, like, all you talk about."

"okay, so we have one thing in common," sophie conceded. "it's a conflict of interest! i'm supposed to be an impartial reporter!"

you shrugged. "impartiality is overrated," you said, and you meant it. now that you'd settled into being completely honest about how you felt, you couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't fathom hiding that kind of thing from people that mattered.

"code cole, code cole," sam whispered.

"soph, you gotta stop running away from me," cole said, coming up behind her, shooting her that confident smirk. "tirin' me out, love."

sophie sighed, turned to face him, crossed her arms over her chest.

"care for a dance?" cole asked, extending his hand to her.

her gaze dipped to his fingers, then rose again. "i'll dance with you," she said, which made cole light up with excitement, "if you agree to give me at least one objectively useable quote after ever single game for the rest of the year."

cole blew out a breath like it was the easiest decision of his life. "done," he declared. he gave an enthusiastic fist pump when sophie took his hand and led him to the floor.

leaning back against the table, you and sam scanned the room, laughing at trevor's ridiculously bold suit, scoffing at nico, who was dancing with two girls at the same time, sharing a knowing glance when you registered quinn and luke, sitting at a table on the outskirts, luke's tie completely untied, quinn's tied around his head. the two loners appeared to be engaged in a game of cards with their respective dates.

eventually, you made good on your promise to jack, grabbing two drinks. when you turned your back on the table, he was walking up to you, his face pleasantly flushed, eyes so doting. your smile grew as he got closer. your eyes shut, delighted, when he threw an arm around your shoulders.

"there you are, baby," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. you were hit with a dizzying sense of deja vu, knowing you'd been here before, knowing so much had changed since the last time you'd been in this position. "thanks for holding my drink for me."

you smiled up at him, leaning into his side, warm and firm against you. it was something magnificent, to have it not be an act, this time. to have it be completely genuine. to have it be real.

"of course, baby," you said, the slight tease in your tone made shimmery by the glint in his gaze.

he hummed, moved his arm down to wrap around your waist, pull you against him as he swayed back and forth to the music. you exhaled, so utterly at peace, relaxed into his chest, tilted your head back to look up at him. he met your gaze eagerly, that smile you so adored overtaking his face like a mural on the side of a building. "what?" he asked.

you shook your head, laughed lightly. because what, really? how could you sum it up? "you," you answered, honestly. "just you."

how could you sum him up? he was one million things. your pretend boyfriend in the face of campus security. your ballroom dance partner. your movie-night, good-morning text, sweatshirt stealer. your window-climber, baseball-watcher, owner of your favorite smile. your tke boy. your exception.

he was one million things, but, when he leaned down to press his lips to your hair, he was only one.

yours.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #luke hughes #nico hischier #alex turcotte #cole caufield

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tvgals · 10 months

Text

‘ CHILL OUT ‘

— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader

synopsis — you see miles walking around campus with a girl you’ve never seen before and it sparks a new issue .

cw ; cheating, fluff to angst, hurt/no comfort, black! reader, reader literally doesn’t deserve this shes so sweet, watched good girls during this so i think that’s where this came from, made up characters

— ENJOY !!

you watch as your boyfriend walked into the cafeteria with a girl you’d never seen before. a mid-length honey blonde wig on her head and her nails done with french tips. you synch your eyebrows together in confusion and you turn to your friends. “who’s that with miles?” you ask, subtly pointing to her. “oh, girl! that’s the new girl, her name is jess or something, i dunno.” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “aight.” you say, shrugging your own shoulders and scrolling through instagram. miles and jess get closer to your table and that’s when you can hear their conversation.

“i love your braids! who did them?” jess asks, running the tip of her fingers over them. “awe, my girl did ‘em for me. there she go right there.” miles says, taking a seat next to you. “y/n.” miles calls your name. you look up at him and smile. “hey miles. who’s this?” you ask, looking at her features. “jess. she’s new so i just showed her around a lil.” miles explains, pulling you into his frame. “ohhh…” you say, widening your eyes and nodding your head. “well, y’know, i really need help with the spanish homework, could you help me?” you ask coyly, batting you eyelashes up at him. “‘course, chica guap.” miles replies, bending down to kiss you.

“get a room!” you hear from one of your friends, taking a video to post on her story later. you giggle and miles opens up his phone. jess looks over and seems to perk up. “you got snap?” she asks, pulling her own phone out. “oh, yeah,” miles replies, “i don’t use it like that though. i don’t talk to people like that.” the bell rings and you and miles say your goodbyes and walk to spanish. “so,” you started. “so?” miles repeats, curiosity in his voice. “where’d you meet her at?” you ask, interlocking you and miles’ pinkie fingers while you two walk down the hallway. “she came up to me while i was walking into the school, asked me to give her a tour.” miles dismissed your question, now taking the lead in you twos walk to class. “oh.” you say, searching through the sides of your backpack with one hand trying to find your lipgloss. “what’re you looking for?” miles asks, opening the door so you can walk into your spanish class. “my lipgloss..i can’t find it..” you mumble, sitting yourself down and sitting your backpack on your desk.

“chill, mami. i can buy you some more.” miles soothes you, taking the desk next to you. you sigh and pull out your notebook and pencil. you watch the front of the room, bored while the teacher talks. within the first thirty minutes of class, miles had thrown six folded up notes to you and texted you over five times. you pull your phone out as discreetly as you could and scroll through the texts.

‘she found my snap bro’

‘swear ts annoying’

‘i ain’t even talk to her like that’

‘bro she’s texting my phone foe’

‘i’m finna block her ass’

‘respond 😒’

you look over at miles and roll your eyes playfully, texting back.

‘js block her?’

miles turns to you and gives you a straight face, looking down at his phone and ignoring the ping of the snapchat notifications. this is bothering you and you don’t know why. you and miles have been dating for over eight months now and you’ve never felt like this before. is it jealousy? maybe. you doubt it though. you leave it in the back of your head just for the bell to ring again, signaling the last class of the day. you pack your stuff up and wait on miles in the doorway. “she keep on texting my phone.” mines groans, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“maybe she got a lil crush.” you snicker, feeling miles playfully bump your shoulders together. “nah. don’t need no crushes, already got my girl.” miles grins, pulling you in for a hug then having to pull away almost immediately. “see you at my dorm?” you ask, walking slower than before. “yep.” and with that, you two parted your ways until 2:30. you and some of your friends meet in the hall and make your way to your classes. you were taking your time walking to class, until your friend brought up a topic. a sensitive one.

“y’know, it’s be funny if miles were cheating on you with that jess girl.” she laughed while everyone else went quiet. “what?” you ask, looking around confused. “it was a joke, damn. if you were in a loyal relationship you wouldn’t get so mad.” she clapped back almost immediately, as if she was waiting to say it for a while now. “what are you talking about? i am in a loyal relationship.” you argue, pulling your phone out to text miles. “little do you know.” she replies in a sarcastic tone. your purse your lips together and turn around, making your way to the bathrooms.

“you didn’t have to do allat.” another one of your friends said, sympathy laced in her voice like she was just confronted with her own boyfriend cheating. you made it to the bathroom and opened a stall, sitting on the toilet seat. you open your phone and text miles.

‘so that’s wtf we doing now?’

you sit and wait for a response, getting one almost immediately.

‘wym??’

‘i mean you cheating on me’

‘who told you ts?’

you sigh and start to feel tears well into your eyes. you loved him so so so much, you met his parents, you ate dinner at his house, you’ve spent the night, you’ve watched him cry, bleed — everything under the sun and this is how he repaid you.

‘you don’t need to know all that. we’re done bro. don’t come by my house, don’t call my phone, don’t call my momma phone, give me back my house keys, and delete my number.’

miles fucked up, and he knew it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

taglist — @venusluvslove @traqstarlo @mangolog @ohmaiscool15 @ohsanghoe @iiilovemilfs @garnetj @guapaneeseb @nekoweb @samdwitch @cloudniteee @azadabts @elitesanjisimp @theyfwkayla14 @lennielane @kelesisworld @aaliyahlia-babyy @dorkmuffin27 @markleedreams @violxtbxbyy @pinkluvrr @yourrfavzxri @noraloralei @blackgirlontheblock

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dannyricsmirrorball · 7 months

Text

paddock princess • cl16 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || charles leclerc x journalist!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || y/n is an f1tv presenter. charles is a scuderia ferrari f1 driver. there’s no way they’re together… right?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || kinda basic and predictable but thought it was cute.

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 40,982 others

yourusername let’s go 2023 🇧🇭

tagged f1

username72 another season another year of y/n’s slay paddock fits

username16 ferrari red…?

natalie_pinkham gorgeous girl 😍

username55 another year of charles and y/n obnoxiously flirting while they’re both oblivious to the other

username81 woo so excited for this season and to see u on track and in the paddock 🤍🤍

scuderiaferrari loving the red 😍

username01 ofc charles already in the likes

username44 the best presenter in the paddock

f1 paddock princess!!

arthur_leclerc lfg

⤷ username16 supportive brother in law 🤔🤭

francisca.cgomes my girlllll

⤷ yourusername miss uuu

liked by scuderiaferrari, francisca.cgomes, and 120,838 others

yourusername faces of the paddock

tagged pierregasly, charles_leclerc, landonorris, carlossainz55, maxvertsappen1, alex_albon

username82 see, this is what happens when u are respectful towards the drivers, they actually look like they’re having fun and not wanting to neck themselves

username33 max looks so happy 🥹

lilymhe that 4head 🤤 alex_albon

⤷ alex_albon 😐

carlossainz55 🧸🌶️

danielricciardo no feature??

⤷ yourusername well maybe if u had a seat…

⤷ danielricciardo oh.

⤷ heidiberger_ she’s got u there danny

⤷ username3 danny’s catching strays left and right… even from his own gf 😭

username61 the whole grid loves her like she’s literally paddock princess

username17 omfg charles that is literally a man that is IN LOVE

landonorris max looks v beautiful 😍😍

⤷ yourusername he does doesn’t he… 🤭

⤷ maxverstappen1 i pull it of do i not?

username72 i’m sorry?! the way charles is looking at her… i’m FLOORED

username91 i’m so sorry but the way they all interact w her like they’re friends… u do not see this w any other presenter or journalist. like she’s so good it makes u feel like they’re friends irl

⤷ landonorris what are u talking abt? y/n is literally my best friend

⤷ pierregasly hate to break it to you mate but pretty sure she doesn’t feel the same

⤷ landonorris yeah soz probs ur gf 🙄

⤷ francisca.cgomes sorry lan and pierre 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

⤷ pierregasly more like *******

⤷ yourusername who’s that 🤔

charles_leclerc great pics y/n 🤍

⤷ username82 he is so painful

⤷ username5 what is this charles 😭

⤷ yourusername thanku charles 🤍

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 92,038 others

yourusername exciting stuff…

tagged scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, shellmotorsport

username02 AHHH SO EXCITED

username37 obsessed w anything ferrari x y/n

pierregasly he still thinks he can wink 😟

scuderiaferrari very exciting!

username91 MORE CHARLES Y/N CONTENT YES PLS

charles_leclerc so fun seeing u today x

⤷ username27 my man can NOT flirt

⤷ username52 mans is lucky he has a pretty face

username22 ready to watch y/n and charles shamelessly flirt whilst carlos watches no thoughts head empty

username33 y/n is the best interviewer she always makes the drivers comfortable and have fun - helps that charles is defs majorly crushing

carlossainz55 always a fun time 🔥

liked by username4, pierregasly, and 12,037 others

leclerc_updates take a guess at who he’s looking at in every single one of these

tagged charles_leclerc, yourusername

username14 pierre?? what are u doing here?!

username92 pierre is always lurking

username16 pierre is sick of charles being a lovesick fool and is taking matters into his own hands

username91 HE LOOKS SO IN LOVE HELP

username28 he’s so fucking fine and he’s down so bad

username75 charles_leclerc fight back?!

username01 my man STAND UP

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 230,928 others

yourusername we are going to monte carlo!

username91 red for ferrari at charles’ home race ❤️‍🔥

username2 fits never disappoint

lilymhe stunning gorgeous gal

charles_leclerc have a beautiful time

⤷ username64 is this him trying to tell her she’s beautiful?? he’s seriously so bad at flirting

danielricciardo don’t be surprised if u accidentally fall in

⤷ yourusername u wouldn’t…

⤷ natalie_pinkham he would

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 he would

leclerc_pascale belle fille 😍

⤷ yourusername merci maman 🩷

⤷ username16 IM SORRY WHAT

⤷ username40 they are NOT slick w it

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 1,167,828 others

charles_leclerc 6th in today’s race. it was always going to be difficult with yesterday’s penalty.

thank you for all the amazing support this weekend. home race always feels special 🤍

username16 il predestinato 🙌

username91 the prince of monaco

username01 a good job charles 👏 get ‘em next time!

yourusername keep pushing 🤍

⤷ username9 best wag things

username56 at least u finished 😭

scuderiaferrari 💪❤️

joris__trouche proud of u mate

arthurleclerc ❤️

lorenzotl ❤️

username99 you’ll come back stronger!

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 104,028 others

yourusername best birthday ever 🌺🌺

username73 oh my god i need that cake

username16 OMFG SECOND SLIDE HAS TO BE CHARLES

francisca.cgomes happy birthday my beautiful girl 💓

usernames73 SOFT LAUNCH???

username92 omg y/n softlaunching…. who’s the man?!

⤷ username47 it’s obv charles

⤷ username92 we don’t know that. i mean she’s a tv presenter/interviewer and he’s literally one of the most highly regarded and talented racing drivers in the world

⤷ username47 and he is literally friends w her? most of the grid is quite close w her and he openly flirts w her? lol stay mad

carlossainz55 happy birthday hermosa ❤️‍🔥

⤷ yourusername thanku carlitos 🤭

⤷ username3 carlos said if charles ain’t gonna shoot his shot i might as well hahahah

⤷ username21 always shipped them more, they have wayyy more chemistry than charles and y/n

⤷ username61 carlos literally said he sees her as a sort of younger sister and when y/n joined the racing community she said carlos took her under his wing like an older brother figure 🤢

⤷ username4 plus carlos is (along w pierre and kika) probably the biggest charles and y/n shipper

⤷ username8 and carlos literally has a gf 😭 and y/n is still rlly close w isa so she wouldn’t go there

⤷ username3 hasn’t stopped ppl b4…

pierregasly happy birthday mate 😝

⤷ yourusername thanku pear 🍐🩷

arthurleclerc hbd y/n 🥳

⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 happy birthday y/n!

⤷ yourusername thankuuu max

naomischiff happy birthday love 💜

isahernaez happy birthday hun 😍💘

⤷ yourusername thankuuu isa 💖

carla.brocker happy birthday sis 🩵🩷

⤷ yourusername love u 🩷🩵

⤷ username12 sister in law??? 👀👀

f1 happy birthday to the queen of the paddock!

⤷ yourusername thanku admin 💛

alex_albon hbd rockstar 🤘

⤷ yourusername ty albono 🤘🤘

username65 with all the drivers and wags saying hbd, you’d forget she’s literally just an f1 presenter 😭

landonorris happy birthday bff best friend for life

⤷ yourusername thanku lan 😛

danielricciardo hiphiphooray oldie

⤷ yourusername thanku danny… but who are u calling old?

georgerussell63 happy birthday mate 👏

⤷ yourusername thank you gr 🤍

lewishamilton happy birthday y/n ☺️💜

⤷ yourusername thank you lewis 💜

⤷ username18 i actually cant. they love her so much. like lewis wouldn’t do this for half the drivers.

oscarpiastri hbd y/n 🙃

⤷ yourusername thanks oscar 🩷🩷

username55 all this noise abt y/n and charles dating but charles didn’t even say happy birthday… lol

instagram stories

swipe up to reply

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 101,671 others

francisca.cgomes feliz aniversário minha linda menina! i love u forever and am proud of u beyond words. you are so talented and the kindest soul i’ve ever known. forever my soul sister 🩷🩷

tagged yourusername

username19 the best paddock friendship

usenane77 y/n being so close to pierre and kika warms my heart

username1 ok but like pierre and charles are def on the opposite side of the third pic

pierregasly 🤍

username89 pierre and charles being bffs and then their gfs also becoming bffs 🥹

⤷ username9 charles’ gf?

⤷ username89 not confirmed but basically confirmed

carla.brocker beauties ⭐️⭐️

⤷ username73 arthur’s gf ^^ 🌚

⤷ username8 they can just be friends without anything to do w charles

yourusername my sister 😘😘

username9 kika is so iconic for putting a pap pic of them

liked by charlesleclerc_updates, pierregasly, and 20,836 others

f1wags mystery girl in charles’ new youtube video… is the ferrari driver taken?

do we think that a certain birthday girl is the one that finally snatched motorsports most wanted bachelor off the market?

tagged charles_leclerc

username89 OMG DEFS Y/N LIKE LOOK AT THE HAIR

username22 they were both in monaco at this time… it only makes sense

⤷ username81 well i mean it was the MONACO gp… not like it’s their job to be there

username16 everytime i accept they aren’t together… pierre likes another one of these posts

username55 guys stop being delusional! he didn’t even post or comment happy birthday to her?!

username5 i mean even if they were dating b4 i don’t think they are anymore

username92 u guys need to stop being delusional

username99 it makes so much sense i mean his brothers, and his brothers’ gfs, and his mum all comment on her posts

⤷ username55 yeah but he doesn’t anymore…

username17 charles is literally maybe the only person in the paddock who hasn’t wished y/n a happy birthday… if there was anything there it’s obv not there anymore

pierregasly 👀👀

⤷ username21 OMG PIERRE WHAT DO U KNOW

⤷ username64 IS THIS CONFIRMATION PIERRE

⤷ username9 omgomgbfhrkjejd

⤷ username16 look at the mess he’s made yourusername charles_leclerc

⤷ yourusername pierre.

⤷ charles_leclerc putain d'idiot

liked by pierregasly, lorenzotl, and 12,092,828 others

charles_leclerc happiest of birthdays mon amour ❤️

3 years with you… i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life.

tagged yourusername

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 #cl16 #cl16 one shot #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #lando norris #george russell #pierre gasly #carlos sainz #alex albon

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ferrstappen · 6 months

Text

primero llegó verstappen l MV1

a/n: MONACO by Bad Bunny. that's it that's the tweet. this isn't very long and its all over the place but I hope you like it <3

summary: Suddenly, Max isn't annoyed about being featured in a music video.

Max couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror of a tent full of outfits, cameras and people moving from one place to another. In his mind he already did enough promo for the team, more than enough after being crowned World Champion for the third time and a huge contributor to the comfortable win of the Constructors Championship as well.

Maybe appearing in a music video was where he draw the line?

He wouldn't have an issue if it was him on his fireproofs doing a couple of laps in some closed circuits, maybe even some hot laps, but having to pose next to his RB19, wearing a faux leather jacket and showing one of his TAG Heuer Monaco Titan, because he was a walking billboard, was a little too much on his books, especially as a make up artist mixed different shades of some foundation, and Max was trying really hard not to take offense after he told him "his dark circles were incredibly hard to conceal".

Here he was doing favors and in return was being offended by his lack of sleep and naturally pale complexion.

He almost laughed after noticing Checo staring at himself in the mirror, the same confused and uncomfortable look on his face, and the same tight jacket as they contemplated the marina from above.

In conclusion, yes, this was well above his paycheck. Max also wouldn't deny he didn't thrill on the presence of paparazzi in quiet Monaco. granted, they were looking for the big star who was doing some shots around the city, walking hand in hand with his model girlfriend, but he could still make out some yelling for him and Checo.

Then, his day took a turn.

Some crew members wearing headphones and what he assumed were the assistants approached him and Checo, telling them this wouldn't take long since all they had to do was walk around the car, get in and out of the car, with and without the helmet, all while blasting the song.

A very catchy and good song that mentioned he was the first one to cross the finish line. At least he couldn't complain about that.

But he was internally complaining when, once again, he found himself on the make up chair with the same make up artist who had a problem with his dark circles, but this time the place was much different.

A sharp suit and this time a heavy Patek Philippe on his wrist as he walked inside the Casino of Monte Carlo. Now he was greeted by Bad Bunny himself, who thanked him many many times for being a part of this, and in return Max thanked him for even thinking of him for his song. They fell into a comfortable conversations about cars when the singer motioned for two girls to come over, one Max recognized as Kendall Jenner, the other he didn't know but was eager to.

"Max, this is mi novia, Kendall, and this is her friend (y/n). They're doing some stuff on the background, don't they look incredible?"

Max swore the designer dress you were wearing was painted on you, because there was no way it could fit so perfectly on your body, with a couple of stray hairs adorning your face and long eyelashes accentuating your eyes.

"It's so nice to meet you, I'm such a big fan of motorsport," you stretched your hand and it caught Max off guard, not really knowing what to do.

So he panicked and gave you a weird handshake before lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a kiss, and he had never felt more like a creep, but he noticed you blushing and a giggle leaving your lips.

You wanted to add something when the crew called everyone to start shooting, Benito and Kendall leading the way, and the only thing Max thought of doing was to offer you his arm which you gladly accepted.

The song was blasting as everyone pretended to talk and surround the roulette, but you and Max weren't pretending to laugh or to talk.

He even left Checo by himself, he'd forgive him eventually.

"I'm pretty sure the camera is on us in this moment," you told him through gritted teeth, trying to keep a perfect smile.

"What should we do?" Max asked, trying to hide his smile while doing his best to give you his best seductive stare.

You knew he was flirting with you and it was surprising. After seeing him on screens and social media you figured he'd be cocky, not having any trouble flirting with women every weekend on different countries, figuring out a way with foreign languages, but you never pictured him as a giddy, easily flushed, good for banter man, and the only thing you wanted was to leave this shoot and have him show you the city, dressed to the nines and maybe pretending to be cold in the end so he could put his jacket over your shoulders, and that way you could see him with just a white shirt and undone tie.

But you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, especially when you heard the director yell cut and tell you and Max to pay attention to the instructions, earning you the glare of everyone in the room.

"Ey, cabrón, que se están enamorando, déjalos solos!" Hey, they're falling in love, leave them alone. Those were Benito's words.

And God, was he right.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen au #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff

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kingofthe-egirls · 8 months

Text

SITTING PRETTY: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: alcohol, kitsune, east blue crew, yes i was imagining the opla cast but so were you, kissing, sitting in someone’s lap)

(a/n: this was so fun. smut maybe coming soon? we’ll see)

Songs: “Hotel” by Claire Rosinkranz

words: 1.2k

Luffy is staring at you.

He’s sitting across the campfire from you, sipping a glass of milk through a straw. You have your own moscow mule in hand, the copper mug sweating with cold condensation.

The air smells like smoke.

“So!” Luffy speaks, twirling his straw around in his drink. He slurps it loudly before continuing, “Let’s play a game!”

He smiles around at the rest of the crew, who are all in their own various states of intoxication. It’s been a long night, after several days at sea with no islands in sight. Everyone is a little bored, a little stressed, and more than a little in need of blowing off some steam. Nami shrugs.

“Sure, captain. What’s up?”

Luffy leans forward, wicked smirk painting his charming features. You stare down into your melted ice and muddled mint leaves.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Zoro sighs, but leans forward too. Sanji and Usopp also perk up. The Merry creaks in the waves as she sails. The ocean laps at her sides, soothing and peaceful in the summer night air. The campfire sparks up with a flare.

Luffy slurps his milk.

“What are the stakes?” Nami asks, adjusting in her seat, her boots slung over one another as she leans back. Usopp is fiddling with his slingshot.

Zoro shrugs, “Drink if you won’t take a dare, drink twice if you won’t take a truth.”

“So, we’re trying to outmatch each other? Get stuff we won’t wanna do?”

“Sorta,” Zoro says, “S’alright with everyone?”

“Sounds fun,” you admit, downing your glass before handing it off to Sanji. He’s a sucker for your sparkly eyes and fluffy tails. Your ears flick back and forth, excited. Nervous.

Sanji hurries back with a refill.

He straightens his suit jacket before sitting back down. The indigo night washes over him with a flattering, velvet softness. You wonder what shade of blue his eyes are, up close.

Luffy clears his throat.

“Sooo, who wants to go first?” His shining eyes scan the crew, and you flick up a tail (or two). He smiles, and takes a sip of his kid’s drink.

You sigh. “Truth,” you say, staring at Nami. You figure she’s gonna strike the worst, so might as well get it over with first. She stares at you, flicking her eyes up and down your scrappy frame. She arches an auburn brow.

“So, Kitty,” she sips her cider, and Sanji shifts in his seat. “Have you ever had sex before?”

She’s smiling, devilish, as you snort through your drink. She laughs as you cough, orange hair swaying in the soft breeze. Everyone else stutters and laughs, and Zoro mutters something about “starting off strong.” You swallow, sucking your teeth as you swirl melted ice around your drink.

“Yes.”

Everyone sighs out in relief, tension removed for a second of release.

Your eyes flick up to hers.

“Your turn.”

She stares back at you: a challenge.

“Dare.”

You shrug, mouth turned down, “I dare you to say when the last time you had sex was.” You stare at her glare, as she clocks you basically just gave her a truth anyway. She sniffs.

“Last week.”

“Liar!” You say, and she giggles. You shove the bottle of tequila closer to her, and she swallows what is certainly more than just one shot.

“Your turn,” she says to Zoro, who glances at Luffy for his prompt.

Luffy stares at the floor, now-empty glass held loosely in slender fingers. “What…is your favorite color?”

“I didn’t say truth, captain,” Zoro snorts, “Truth or dare, Luffy.”

“Dare?”

Sanji sighs, and Usopp says “we might as well go with it,” so Zoro sighs and starts to think of something to dare his already-reckless captain with. He settles on something silly, and tame.

“I dare you to slingshot back and forth across the ship five times.”

Happy to be moving, your hyperactive friend shoots up and starts gum-gum rocketing across the ship with no small amount of shouting. You swirl the mint leaves in your drink. “Your turn,” you murmur to Usopp, who gives Sanji a glance.

“Truth or dare?” The chef asks, his own glass of wine clutched in his delicate fist. It’s as dark as the sea.

“Truth.”

“What do Kaya’s lips taste like?”

The group ooo’s in scandalous delight, all eyes on the sniper as he stares down into his drink. “Pass,” he says, and takes a huge slurp. It dribbles down his chin. “Who’s turn is next?”

“Sanji,” you say, turning to him with a smile, “Truth or dare, handsome?”

He blushes at your pet name, and someone coughs. The blond boy licks his lips. His eyes meet yours, reflecting the fire’s red heat.

“Dare.”

“Kiss my cheek,” you preen, tails flicking around you. You bare the side of your face to him, sitting pretty by the campfire. Your scrappy jeans have stitched-on patches, and your crop top hangs loose around your frame. A single pendant hangs around your neck, and your hair is twisted into messy braids. You knock your steel-toed boots together.

Sanji hums, peaceful, as he delicately scoots toward you. He’s already sitting next to you, tall legs and broad shoulders bumping into yours as he settles closer in. His hand is slightly cool as it graces the side of your neck. “Be still, pretty,” he whispers, just for you, as he presses a slow smooch against your cheek. He bites it, playfully, and you swat him away with a fearsome blush.

Usopp giggles, and Nami snorts into her cider again. Zoro and Luffy are both silent. You swallow, and cast about the crew for someone else’s turn. “Is it me again?” You ask, and Zoro nods.

“Truth or dare?” He says, sake almost drained from his bottle. The air stills, sudden breeze gone quiet as you sit together. You curl two tails around yourself, petting the soft, arctic fur in your lap. It scratches against the striped patch on the side of your left hip.

“Truth.”

“Nope,” Zoro says, swigging his sake, “Truth is boring. You’re doing a dare. Sit in the lap of the person you’d most like to have sex with.”

Everyone gasps, except for you.

Your eyes burn with smoke, staring down the swordsman across the crackling flames. Sparks shoot up between you, orange and hazy in the moonlight. Something thumps against the ship; a fish or a shark that swims away silently.

You stand.

Sanji shifts, still close to you from his kiss. He scratches the fabric of his slacks above his left knee. His shoes are shiny and black beneath the stars. You step over them, carefully.

And you make your way across the circle, slowly as a shark circling prey.

“Sorry,” you whisper, standing in front of the captain who saved you, “Is this seat taken?”

He stares at you.

His breath comes ragged and hazy, as he sets his glass down to make room. His hands are sweaty, so he wipes them off on his shorts as you stand beside his hip. He leans back, slightly, to let you sit side-saddle across his legs. He shifts on the deck so he’s cross-legged, and you take your seat with a searing blush. Your ass fits neatly into the space between his crisscrossed legs, his heat spilling into your body as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He nuzzles into your cheek, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “Sleeping in my hammock tonight,” he whispers, his lips in your hair, “Captain’s orders.”

****

#dumpster dive #my writing #one piece fanfic #luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #kitty speaks #luffy x y/n #luffy x kitsune #luffy x kitty #luffy x oc #luffy x you #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vasya #fox tales #kitsune oc

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s-4pphics · 5 months

Text

click! 3 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 7.4k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black :3, crack, light smut [masturbation], sexual tension… it’s starting, light angst, weed, brief mention of suicide, pretty cute tbh

one. two. four.

A/N: hi stinks :3 i’m obsessed with them….. taking my time with these two hope yall like it LOL bye

Butterflies are fluttering, birds are chirping, and the crops are watered when you wake. You slept through the entire night, and the beast inside you is satisfied.

But the gorgeous scenery in your mind dies in an instant when you recall what the fuck you did last night. Maybe you are a low-down, dirty whore, just like your roomie said. She has the audacity to terrorize your subconscious enough to actually feature in one of your meat-beat sessions. Not only that, but you busted in two minutes to the thought of her demanding you to fix a window that isn’t even broken.

You… are a hoe. How awkward. You just wanted to fight her days ago, and now your pussy’s got a crush. Not you, your pussy. You accepted that you and your cunt are two separate entities a long time ago.

You lay in your bed, eyes melting holes into the ceiling; What the fuck is going on?

Ellie… sex… her asking for head… you asking for head from her… The math isn’t mathing. Ellie’s gay as a bitch, you know that for a fact, but why her? The math has never mathed, actually. You’re going to fail statistics, speaking of… Is statistics considered math?

It’s still freezing in your apartment. Is Ellie still not back yet? Your shared space is never this silent or cold; A rat could be crawling around in search of cheese and you would hear it like a hounddog.

You throw your blankets off and instantly regret it; You’re shocked snow isn’t falling from inside your fucking apartment. It has to be negative thirty in this bitch. If Ellie’s asleep, you don’t know how she survived the night.

Your knees crack as you quietly pull your door open, light creaks from the hardwood sounding your walk to Ellie’s bedroom. You can’t imagine how crazy you look, ear pressed against her door, listening for any movement to prove that she’s alive and not a fucking block of ice.

Either you’re hallucinating, or she’s mumbling in her sleep. Her voice is hushed and croaky, supposedly asking if Spider-man stole her fucking lunch money to pay the Pope back for stealing… something; You can’t pick up what she said from out here. Your hand flies over your mouth to hide a laugh. She must be exhausted; When did she get back last night?

You let her sleep-talk in peace and head to the kitchen to brew your coffee. You really beat off to that bonehead. Go figure.

For the first time since Ellie moved in, you’re gone before her.

You’re strolling the icy streets, strutting to your heart’s content, Tina Snow vibrating your eardrums. Last night’s nut really did something incredible to your spirit; You’ve never felt lighter. One more unsuspecting gust of wind and you’re taking flight, for sure. Your brain gives subconscious Ellie knuckles.

You burst through the coffee shop like you own it, silently celebrating when you realize there’s no line. You order and receive your dark drink in record time, taking a seat by the large window at the back of the shop. What gorgeous scenery!

Your cup is almost empty when your phone vibrates on the table. It’s Maymay! You answer with the brightest smile. “My babyyy— “

“Bitch, cut the shit! Fuck you! Why haven’t you called?” She yells through the line.

“Well, uh…” You almost committed arson in your building! “Just… just school stuff! You wouldn’t know about that, Ms. Celebrity!”

Your best friend giggles, “Shut up! I’m a D-lister at most!” You shake your head in denial; That internship program doesn’t understand the blessing that Amaya holds. Her ear is godsend and she comprehends sound like no other.

“How’s the roomie thing going? I haven’t heard much!”

Oh, fuck. “… Fine.”

She’s silent for a second, “The fuck does that mean?”

Your fingernail snaps between your teeth. “I mean it’s fine, just like I said.”

Amaya hums, clearly suspicious, “… Whatever you say, then.”

“Yup.”

She snorts. “Anyway… what’re you doing for Chri— “

“Ellie made me bust with her telepathy.” This is not the conversation you should be having in a coffee shop, but if people heard you, fuck it.

“… Bitch… What?”

“I didn’t wanna tell you, okay? I didn't! Incel made her way into my fucking brain and I busted! Sue me!”

Silence passes, and then there’s laughter from the other line. “Are you high right now?”

“No, it’s fucking nine in the morning— “

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a lil’ wake-and-bake— “

“I just told you I mentally fucked my roomie and that’s what you say?”

She sighs, “I mean… I saw the picture you sent me. She's not ugly. Doesn’t seem like your type, though.”

“She’s not my type! I thought about her for two seconds on accident and I came! Abby couldn’t even get me there and she—”

“Woah, woah, pause… Abby couldn’t get you where?”

“Not a location, bitch. I couldn’t bust!” A sharp gasp from her. Your brows furrow, “What?”

“Oh, bitch…”

“What, Maya?”

You hear the smile in her tone, “You gotta crush?”

You gag, “Fuck no! Have you lost your mind! My…” You pause and check to see if anyone’s near. Nobody. You whisper-shout into the speaker, “My pussy’s crushing!”

Amaya sucks her teeth in annoyance, “Girl…”

“It’s true! You know she gotta mind of her own! I can’t do anything about that!”

Your bestie’s snickering to herself, “Whatever you say, mama. But for someone that thinks with her clit… you might wanna have a conversation with her. You know her better than anybody.”

You’re stunned to say the least. You love Amaya to death, but she’s batshit crazy to suggest that you’re crushing on someone like Ellie. She called you a worthless tramp in broad daylight, for fucks sake. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still stung a little.

You sip your coffee, “I love you… I gotta go.”

“Mhm…” You hate how sure she sounds. “Love you, too.”

You nervously twiddle your fingers until your first class, the day dragging even more than usual. Mainly due to the fact that you’re wondering if Amaya was right. Your lectures feel like a blur; All you can think about is Ellie. The spot-covered hermit. Squash-loving loser with a decent nose… and decent hands… and decently toned arms.

Your pussy squeezes in the middle of class when you briefly envision them wrapped around you, and it sends a shockwave to your brain.

Oh, shit.

Raja was sweet enough to cover your shift for you; You can’t focus on credit card sales today.

The second you enter your freezing apartment, you hear quiet sobs. Ellie sits at the small table as she scrolls through her phone, forms scattered all over the glass. She’s sniffling and wiping her face with her hoodie sleeve, and your brows crease.

You shut the door behind you before making your way over to her. Not too close, though.

“Uhh… you good?”

“Yeah.” Her voice breaks, and something shifts in you. Somewhere in your chest. Why’re her cheeks so red?

“… You sure?” You cringe.

“I said yeah.”

She clearly doesn’t want to chat. Whatever’s going on, she can handle on her own. She doesn’t need coddling, especially from you. Why’re you still standing here?

“I, uh… I found a Snicker’s.” You slip.

Ellie finally faces you, clearly confused. Why can’t you just shut the hell up for once? Another shift from your chest at her teary eyes.

“What?”

“I mean, uh, I bought a Snicker’s. Like, candy.” You pull said bar from your puffer pocket. You did buy it for Abby for when you see her to study, but it looks like your roomie needs it more.

“… Okay?”

You pull out and hand the wrapped chocolate out to her, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

Her eyes switch between your face and the candy bar; She doesn’t look impressed. Maybe she’s allergic to nuts! You knew you should’ve got the fucking Sour Straws—

“Thanks.”

You barely register her taking the bar, her cold fingers brushing against yours. Another zap in your brain. She rips it open and eats it in silence. An awkward chuckle from you, “Is it yummy?” You expect her to tell you to fuck off, but she doesn’t. She just nods and chews.

Your nosiness gets the best of you, discreetly inspecting the forms on the table. A bunch of random names are crossed out in her notebook, a couple of signed forms crumpled up and raggedy. You don’t know what any of this means.

“You’re not slick.” Ellie talks with her mouth full.

“Hm?”

“You’re really gonna read my shit like that?”

You take a seat next to her, “… I didn’t.”

“Okay,” She mumbles. “Remember…” She scratches at her ear, “Remember that booking that got canceled because of the storm?” You nod. She swallows the last bits of her candy. “I was supposed to take pictures of this couple before their wedding, but…”

“They, uh… They don’t wanna reschedule. Said it’s too hectic because of the holidays and there’s not enough time.”

You hum, “Okay… So, what does that mean?”

“I can’t submit my portfolio without those pictures. And it fucked my money up.”

“Damn… how much were they paying?”

She scoffs, “A lot. I don’t even wanna think about how much I lost trying to get the setup right.”

You ponder for a second, “I mean, I’m sure there’s other people who want nice pics. You’ve been hustling this whole time— “

She interrupts, “I don’t wanna hustle anymore. I’m… I’m tired. It’s fucking exhausting doing promotions by yourself.”

You hear the stress in her voice, and you feel for her. Being a full-time creative can be pretty shitty at times. Most times. The amount of attempts you’ve had in commissioning in your lifetime is astronomical; Some pick-ups, lots of disappointment.

“What was the shoot about? Like… the scene, I guess.”

Ellie nibbles at her lip, “Romance.”

“Boooring,” You joke. Ellie doesn’t laugh, so you cough awkwardly. “You gotta come up with a new plan, I guess. It’s all about the grind mentality.”

“You sound like a misogynist with a podcast.”

You chuckle and she continues, “There’s no new plan. The portfolio I’m submitting is based on emotion. It’s not… complete if love isn’t somewhere in there. That’s how I see it.”

“Speaking of see, can I?” You arch your brow, “Your portfolio, I mean.”

“No.” She says plainly.

“Wha— why not? You saw my paintings!”

“They’re on the wall… in the living room. There’s no other choice but to look at them.”

“Bro, what the fuck. You’re not the only visualist in this house! I might have some pointers you could use!”

“I don’t need pointers from you.” Aggravation clouds her pupils. You try not to take offense to that, but it doesn’t work.

“Why the fuck not?” You glare.

Her tone gets louder, “Because you wouldn’t understand it! Why do you wanna help so badly, anyway!”

“I’m—“ But you don’t know what to say. Why do you want to help? Ellie squints, awaiting your answer, but nothing comes out. You’re uncomfortable; It’s suddenly not that cold in here.

“Whatever. Forget I asked!” You rise and march to your room. Another slammed door, another pending noise complaint.

Ellie hasn’t talked to you in days, and you’re not sure why it’s bothering you. You’ve been sending her looks throughout the entire stats lecture, but she hasn’t acknowledged you once. She’s just scribbling and tapping her ballpoint on her notebook. Her notetaking seems very intense from where you sit, her eyes scanning the board.

Does Ellie like math? Or logistics? Or whatever statistics is considered? Curiosity pokes at you; You don’t know much about your roommate. You’ve been living together for nearly a month, and you haven’t had one valuable conversation yet. What about photography interests Ellie so much? Why does she enjoy disgusting vegetables? When did she get her tattoo? Is she actually gay or are you a dickhead for assuming?

Your venturing thoughts makes class fly by; Another successful day of not taking useful notes!

Ellie’s packing her run-down backpack and you watch. She’s meticulously placing her books on top of each, at least from what you can see from the big hole on the side. Her headphones are thrown on, and in one swift motion, her bag is on her shoulder and she’s heading towards the door, holding it open for everyone leaving.

You swiftly pack and walk towards the exit. Ellie’s too distracted by her phone to notice you turn the corner to watch her. All the students vacant the room, and she lets the door shut. You follow from a distance as she moves towards the staircase, down the steps, out into the quad and onto the open field. She pauses, so you do too.

You follow her line of vision, right at the sky. It’s pretty today: the sun’s peeking out, just barely, from underneath the dark gray clouds, rays of light highlighting various sections of the quad.

Ellie unzips and digs in her bag, retrieving the olive-green polaroid before setting her bag down on the frosted grass. She maneuvers around the grass, trying to avoid obstruction from the trees, adjusting her stance, picking the best angle before holding her camera up. One quick flash, and she’s holding a photo of the sky.

She shakes the picture a bit before squatting to search through her bag, pulling out a large binder and placing the photo in a laminated encasing. You can’t see any of the pictures in detail, but there must be a lot in there. That binder is thick as fuck.

And just like that, she’s off into the cold.

You wonder what else is in that binder.

You’re starving. The second you get that direct deposit, you’re whipping up something fierce. Shrimp and eggplant have been calling your name for weeks; You’re ravenous for it.

You run up to the apartment to snag a granola bar, Ellie already in the kitchen, propped against the counter eating Kraft mac and cheese.

You shut the door behind you, “Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Ellie stops chewing, eyes large and soft cheeks filled with creamy noodles. “Hm?”

You walk to the cupboards, mouthwatering for Nature Valley, “It’s just beautiful outside! The trees, the sky! Almost pretty enough to paint, ain’t it!”

More chewing. She just shrugs, but you’re not having it, “I wish I gotta picture!”

“… Go take one.”

“Oh, my fucking god,” you mutter to yourself, “Can I see the picture you took earlier?”

“… How’d you know— “

“The details aren’t important! I was thinkiiing,” you rip open the wrapping, “if I can’t see your portfolio, I can see that giant photo book you have!”

She glances around awkwardly, “Were you watching me earlier?”

“… Well, yes— “

“What the fu— why?”

“I like seeing people do shit they enjoy.” You shrug and bite your bar. Ellie isn’t looking at you, but her cheeks tint, and it makes you grin. Interesting.

You chew and swallow, “Especially talented people.” You inch closer, just barely. “You should show me some pictures sometime… I’ll show you some of my secret creations, too. A little exchange, if you will.”

Her fingers clench around her plastic spoon, and her breathing changes, cheeks even brighter. Her hands are very nice… They look so soft.

“Think about it,” you say, quieter, just between the two of you, “Call it… roommate bonding.” You crunch and adjust your bag before walking towards the door. “I think it’s overdue!” You throw over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you.

You’re not sure if Ellie likes or hates compliments.

Closing was so hectic; you don’t make it home until one in the morning. Training rookies is probably the worst part about working in hardware; They never know where shit goes.

You don’t feel tired, though. The drive back home is usually when your exhaustion takes over, but this ride was smooth. Sleep is going to be difficult to come by tonight.

You unlock your front door and… push. And push. And push again. What the fuck. Something’s blocking the door. You fight with the wood until the crack is wide enough to slip through. The smell in the air is very telling as to why there’s a pile of hoodies blocking the slim opening at the bottom of the door.

Your mouth gapes at the sight of Ellie on the couch with no pants on, blunt in her hand… blowing O’s. Her eyes are glistening and lazy when she opens them. You quickly shut the door and kick the hoodies in their original position before the scent escapes.

“Hey,” she mutters. Goosebumps rise on your arms at her voice.

“… Why the fuck are you chiefing in this no smoke building.”

She stares like you’re stupid. “De-stressing.”

“Deez-fucking nuts! Ellie, we’re not gonna have a place to sleep if we get caught. Bitch ass Carol doesn’t play that shit.” You hate your landlord with every fiber of your being. The second anyone accidentally breaks a rule, she’s on their ass like grass. You can’t imagine how she’s going to react if she sees Ellie being disobedient on purpose. You’ll both be living out of your car. Fucking hag.

Your roommate sighs and crosses her legs, boxer shorts riding up her taut thighs. Alright, okay. She pats the empty cushion next to her.

“I'm bored.”

“Okay, what about it.”

She taps the cushion again. Your heartbeat spikes for some reason. “Roommate bonding.”

You gawk. Ellie’s never been this relaxed in your presence. Her posture is incredibly comfortable, leaning back against the propped pillows, manspreading. Why is it attractive?

So, you drop your bag and unzip your puffer before plopping down next to her. She says nothing, just extends the lit herb to you. You look between her and the big B. “That’s a fat doinker.”

“… Right.” Ellie puffs once more before attempting to share.

You push her cold hand back softly, “I don’t smoke.”

“Okay.” One last long pull from her, and she’s putting out the grass on the ashtray. “Do you wanna play checkers?” She exhales around smoke clouds, cold air blowing in from the barely cracked window.

“… What.”

“I said do you wanna play checke— “

“Are you a lesbian?”

Your eyes widen at your own question. Interrogation? Fuck. Ellie’s looking around the warm space blankly as if she’s trying to register what the fuck you just said. You’re a fucking asshole.

“E-Ellie, I’m sorry, I dunno why I asked— “

“Can you not tell.”

“Well, yeah.” You stutter, “… But I thought it was like… fucked up to assume based on uh, appearances, or whatever. I don’t have good gay-dar, so.”

“I’ve been called a carpet muncher since I was eight.”

“… Fuck, really?” She nods, face flat. Your fist extends, silently asking for knuckles, “Me too! That’s what’s up.”

“I almost killed myself.”

Your fist drops with your expression. “Oh… uh, damn… Sorry… I’m glad you didn’t, though, real shit.”

“What does love feel like?”

This conversation is giving you whiplash. “Are you one of those fake-deep potheads? Like, you believe in flat earth and all that other bullshit?”

Ellie blinks dumbly, “Uhh… I don’t think so…”

“Why do you ask?”

Ellie points at the wall, at one of your paintings. Two women laying on a bed of grass, completely at peace, surrounded by colorful flowers and butterflies. A small smile spreads across your face, recalling how excited you were to show your first girlfriend what you made for her birthday.

“Love feels like you're getting shot… but not in a bad way.” You ramble. “It’s like… like, fuck I’m really gonna die without this person next to me type shit.” You think back to when you made the painting on the wall, the memories of your younger self so deeply infatuated with another person for the first time. It felt eternal back then, souls interconnected.

But then your eyes travel to the next painting, right below the latter. Complete void, no color, no life, just darkness, and your expression falls. The faceless girl trapped in the center of madness is calm, though, accepting her doom with grace.

“That makes it worse, though…” You think of Dina and how you fought. How nasty it got. How disgusted she seemed with your presence. You almost want to cry as you relive it. “When they leave… something inside you really does die. That space never really gets filled again. You’re just kinda… stuck with a hole until you croak over.”

“What if they don’t leave?”

They all leave. “… I’m not sure yet.”

Ellie hums and it goes quiet for a moment. You wonder what she’s thinking about.

“Are you a lesbian?” Your roommate throws back at you. You laugh, “Are you asking if I eat coochie?”

Ellie nods with a giggle. You stiffen; This is the first time you’ve heard her laugh. The hairs on your arms stand upright at the sound.

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Ellie laughs harder, head resting against the back of the couch. You watch the apple of her cheeks heighten. But then the wind blows harder than normal and they drop. She's blank again. “The heater…”

“What about it?”

“It’s broken…”

Fuck. “Did you put in a maintenance request?” Her head shakes.

“Uh… why not?”

“Because I heard you masturbating and forgot.”

Your heart, stomach, pride is at your feet, “… What did you just say.”

Ellie finally looks at you, eyes doe-like, guilt swimming in them. “I’m… I’m sorry! I was sleeping and I woke up to pee but I couldn’t because you were— “

“Ellie— “

“It kept… buzzing, and I couldn’t move! I kept asking

myself how is her stamina this fucking good! It didn’t turn off until like… an hour later! I almost pissed in my bed— “

Your body heats at her confession; She thought about your stamina? You place a hand on her shoulder to ease her, and she stops. “It’s okay. I just… Yeah, this is awkward… We gotta submit that request before that next blizzard or we’re fucked.”

Ellie mutters in agreement, but she’s not listening. She’s eyeing your fingers, the ones resting on her shirt. If you move your thumb an inch, you’ll touch her collarbone.

“We, um… We can send it in the morning…” She whispers okay, and your fingers curl around the fabric. A sharp inhale from her, and you sigh. Her warm breath is hitting your wrist and you’re trying not to squirm. You watch her chest rise and fall at a steady pace, eyes flicking between yours and your hand.

You watch her and she watches you, hand inching up until you’re tracing the warm skin under her tee. Your nail scratches her collarbone, just barely, and the muscles in her thigh jerk. Nope. Not happening. You pull away and stand.

“This was… you’re funny.” You stare at your feet; You never took your shoes off. “Uh… bye.”

“Bye.” Her voice is flat. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you fucked up.

Your shoes go flying and you rush to your room. You’re not sure if you slammed the door or not; The pounding in your ears is too loud.

Ellie fucked up. She knows she did.

I heard you masturbating and forgot? You left over an hour ago, and she’s still replaying that moment in her mind. What the fuck was she thinking? She wants to peel her skin off and her stomach is in knots. The ghost of your hand is still on her. She was freezing before you came home, and now she’s overheating.

Ellie thinks she’s done a good job of acting normally around you after that night. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it. All the time.

She hates how, every night since it happened, she listens for you. When you come home in the wee hours of the night, the devil convinces her that you’re aching and desperate, dripping and ready to get yourself to the peak you crave. You’ve been working so hard; You deserve to wind down.

It’s sick, she knows. She masks it well, but every time you're home, she’s hot. Roommate bonding, you’d said. Why did you say it like that, though? You sounded so alluring, like a siren preparing for a kill.

Maybe she’s reading into it too much. You're a flirt and you’re good at it…

It’s either hot or cold with you. Compliments, or cursing. Admiration or judgment. There’s no middle ground, and it’s driving her crazy.

Why did you have to touch her? You could’ve kept your distance like you’ve been doing, like you did in the kitchen. You gave her a chance to run at arm's length.

Ellie’s thoughts are racing; She needs to smoke again, but she’s too distracted to spark. That ache between her thighs is overpowering.

Her eyes travel over the painting that captured her attention a few weeks ago. A small self portrait of you. She commends your attention to detail, but still, you’re so gorgeous in person; There’s no comparison.

Two deep breaths, and her hand is shoved in her boxers, fingers slippery in seconds. She keeps her eyes glued to the painting as she rubs her clit in quick circles, the bud increasing her sensitivity.

It’s like the painting moves with every squeeze of her walls: she can almost see your animated eyes rolling into your skull, your pink tongue out, drool dripping down your chin. And your voice… It’s tantalizing when you want something. She can almost hear you now: it’s so good, right there, I love when you touch me like that.

Fuck, she wants your hands on her. Everywhere. Anywhere you want. She’s breathing so loud; She hopes you dozed off by now, even in your noticeably restless state.

But what if you’re not? What if you forgot something in the living room, or need a drink of water before bed, and you walk in and see the mess you make her? Her hand moves faster at the thought of you angry, disappointed that she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She’ll never say, but something wicked happens in her underwear when you're fuming. She likes how expressive your eyes are.

Her free hand flies over her mouth as her stomach tightens, the beats in her clit and heart synced. She's so close. A few seconds, and she groans into her hand, the walls melting around her when it finally crashes. Tears jerk in her eyes as she rubs herself through it, riding it out for as long as she can.

The hand on her mouth slides under her shirt, cold fingers prodding her nipple as her orgasm descends. She gasps into the cold air, trying to catch her breath. She palms her clit and her walls twitch. She tiredly plops onto the couch, hand still in her underwear, eyes glued to your portrait, scaling the wall until she revisits the depiction of you and your first girlfriend.

The idea Ellie’s been sitting on for the last few days crashes down on her again. You’re soft, despite what others may say. You seem like a lover.

It’s Friday. Rent is due. Fuck.

You just got paid, and now more than half of your earnings is in your landlord's pocket. You haven’t even been grocery shopping yet.

Ellie has, apparently. It smells so good in the kitchen. You take back whatever you said about her and her cheffing skills. That soup was delicious; You secretly hope she cooks more. She can get down… a little bit.

You wipe the tired from your eyes and make way to the kitchen, and your jaw drops, stunned in your spot by the fridge. Empty grocery bags are stacked on the counter, and Ellie’s frying shrimp and eggplant.

“Hi… you didn’t eat last night. I heard you talking about egg— “

Your whimper, followed by several guttural sobs interrupt her greeting, hand flying over your mouth. Ellie simply stands by the counter with wide eyes, fork in hand.

Ellie thinks you’ve stopped crying, “Uh… I just wante— “

More loud sobs from you. Snot dribbles down from your nose and Ellie cringes, tearing a piece of paper towel and handing it to you. You take it graciously and blow your nose.

“This is,” sob “the best thing a-anyone,” sniffle… sob “has ever done f-for me.”

Ellie just nods and flips the eggplant. You can’t control yourself, arms wrapping around her waist, sobbing into her back.

“I, um… Consider it a peace offering, I guess.”

“I take back,” heave “I take back whatever dumb shit I said about you before you moved in,” heave “You’re so… fuck you, Ellie!” You hug her tighter.

“Queers gotta stick together.” She mumbles.

“Like wet pussy lips!” You wail, fat tears seeping into her t-shirt. She snickers to herself, “Get a plate.”

You sniffle all the way to the cupboards and set the tiny table.

Chef Butch. That’s Ellie’s new name around these parts.

For someone who supposedly “hates eggplant”, she seasoned and fried the fuck out of it. Get this bitch on the Food Network!

You’re full and energized before leaving the house for once. You don’t even need your morning coffee.

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?” Ellie calls from the table.

You pause dish scrubbing to look at her, “Mhm.”

“It’s kinda… a big deal.” She mutters, eyes flickering nervously.

“… Should I sit down, or?”

“It’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know.”

You rinse your hands and set the last plate on the rack to dry. You grab a clean towelette and sit across from her. Ellie can’t meet your eyes and her cheeks are fiery. You smirk.

“Need help with something?”

Her head bobs, eyes glued to the table.

“Then ask me.” You lean closer. Ellie whispers your name. A deep sigh from her, lips parting around her question.

“Do you wanna model for my portfolio— “

“Of course I’ll help you send nudes— “

Confusion paints her face, “What.”

“…What.”

“What did you just say.”

“Nothing.” You shrug, face burning.

“You can say no. It’s not that serious.” That guarded twinge in Ellie’s voice has returned. You don’t like it.

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease with a pout.

“What.”

“You think I’m sooo hot and sexy that you’re gonna make me the star of your— “

Ellie blushes, “You’re not the… star of anyth— “

Your hands wave excitedly, “I’m so honored! I’d love to! When do we start!”

Ellie sighs, massaging her temples, “Do you have work on Sunday?”

“Not anymore!” You do a little dance in your seat, “What am I gonna be doing in the pics, o ye camera master?” Her ears are so red. Why is she so fucking nervous? You’ve already accepted!

“Just look like you’re in love.”

“… Oh.”

Ellie grimaces at your tone, “Listen, I only have two weeks to finish this submission. I haven’t had any luck finding people to help me out!”

You pause, “Is this why you buttered me up with a buss down plate?”

“… Would you hate me if I said yes?”

“Fuck, Ellie— “

“I’m desperate!” She exclaims, “But I also don’t wanna just ask anybody! I need the photos to be believable! And you kinda… you kinda get it!” Ellie points to the painting of you and your first love.

The silence is thick as you explore her face. Her forestry-filled eyes are nervous, but there’s a glimmer of hope in her pupils. You like it; Her orbs look brighter. Greener somehow.

“I wanna see it, then.”

“See what?”

“Your big ass binder… and your portfolio!”

Her eyes roll. “Pick one.”

“Wooow, you’re really gonna ruin another opportunity for roommate bonding? That’s wild. Alright.”

“Pick one.” She’s stern with her demand… You like that, too.

You smirk. “Show me your portfolio.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You see it when it’s finished. After the pictures are done. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, damn,” You give up, “So… what do I gotta do for prep?”

“Not much right now. I have to set up my equipment and all that…” She glances around the living room, “we’ll talk about the rest later.”

“‘Kay.” You twiddle your fingers together before the biggest light bulb shines over your head.

“I also get 40% of the earnings— “

“Fuck no.” She says with a small grin. You pout.

You knew something was wrong when Abby randomly invited you over to study… on a Saturday night. You don’t know how she’s a STEM major; You haven’t seen her with a book since you’ve met her!

The second she opened her door, something was off. It’s been days since you’ve seen her and she barely reacted to the grilled cheese you brought. Her answers have been curt and she’s not laughing at any of your jokes. Your Cheetos are doing a great job at soothing your anxiety. You want to comfort your friend with whatever’s bothering her, but you’re not sure how.

So, you talk. And talk. And talk about Ellie.

“I’m not gonna lie,” You crunch, comfortable on Abby’s beanbag. “I’m kinda excited! I’ve never done a photoshoot before.”

Abby shrugs from her work desk, voice monotone, “I mean, just be mindful. It’s obviously not a game for her so you needa take it seriously.”

Your brows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Your roommate slash crush— “

Your head shakes, “I don’t have a crush— “

“Slash crush,” Your friend emphasizes, “asked you to be a part of probably one of the biggest creations of her life. If that photo book or whatever is as important as you say, it’s not just a “photoshoot” for her.”

… Nah, you’re still confused.

Abby scoffs, “A photoshoot about romance and you’re her only model, making you breakfast, and whatever else she’s done! How much does she have to spell it out for you?”

“I don’t understand why you’re yelling!”

“I’m not fucking yelling! I’m watching out for you before you do something you regret!”

You sit up straighter, “And what does that mean!”

“What have you been saying this entire time? I don’t wanna live with someone I fucked!” She mocks, “It seems like y’all are pretty close to that.”

You stare pensively, “We haven’t fucked and we’re not going to! You’re doing the fucking most!”

“Yeah, whatever.” She continues to scribble.

“Abby… what’s wrong?” You clumsily stand from the bean bag. “I’m so con— “

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” She snaps, pen slamming on the desk. “Every time we see each other, you talk about her! I’m sick of hearing about… whatever the fuck you have going on at home, quite frankly! We can’t even joke around because you’re so pressed about someone you don’t even like!”

You’re going to cry; You can feel it. Abby’s never been this upset with you, “Why did you wait so long to tell me this? I would’ve stopped coming to you a long time ago!”

“Because I cared and didn’t want you to feel by yourself while Maya’s away! That’s why! But now, it’s like…”

A tired sigh from her and she gives up, hand waving dismissively, “Talking about this shit is pointless. I’m going to bed. Shut the door behind you.” Abby rises and brushes past you, switching her lamp off and climbing into her warm bed. You allow your tears to fall as you gather your belongings, gently shutting her door behind you and attacking your face with your sleeve. You hate crying in public.

The elevator ride feels much longer than it should’ve been as you weep. The doors shutter open, and you can see the weather is not on your side. It’s pelting bullets outside; You knew you shouldn’t have walked.

“You got a ride?”

You look over at the security guard perched behind the front desk. Fuck all feds, but Stanley’s cool. You shake your head.

“You can’t walk home in that. Driving is also dangerous but,” He shrugs, and you sigh. You pull your phone out of your pocket.

“Hey, Siri… Call Chef Butch…”

“CALLING CHEF BUTCH.”

Stanley’s warm laughter eases your shoulders.

DING!

You unlock your phone and smile at Ellie’s text, rising from your chair.

“Alright, Stan. Pray I don’t turn into Frosty out there,” You throw over your shoulder.

He laughs, opening the heavy door for you, “I will! Get home safely!” You throw your hood over your beanie, easing past him and nearly being blown away by the fucking wind. How did Ellie drive in this shit!

You somehow manage to follow the view of your car, pounding on the passenger window to get Ellie to unlock it. You miss your step on the curb and fall face first into the seat. You hear Ellie’s laughter.

“You alright?”

“Yup! Fucking peachy, thanks!” You stumble in and slam the door with the wind, out of breath, body melting from the heat. “You couldn’t have parked a little closer?”

“… No.”

You stare at her through the snow in your lashes, “Ellie, take us home, please. I’m annoyed and going through a fucking breakdown, like I can’t be outside right now. I’m gonna pass out!”

“… You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” You spit.

“Alright.” She puts the car in drive, but her foot is still pressed on the brake.

“I just can’t believe this shit right now!” You ramble anyway. “You think you know a person, like, fuck! This is stupid!” You punch the glove compartment.

“… What happ— “

“Like, fuck! Fuuuck! Like what the fuck!”

You’re screaming your head off and Ellie’s just watching, face flat as ever. It makes you scream louder. But your wails pause when your eyes flicker downward. Veiny hands clenched around the steering wheel. Your screams suddenly sound like whimpers. When’s the last time you had sex?

Is it sad that the thought of Ellie choking you out is easing your meltdown? This is the worst day ever!

“I’m gonna rip my fucking face off— “

“Why're you staring at my hands like that?”

“What the fuck, I’m not staring. Be quiet.”

Your roommate grins like a fox, “Okay.”

The car’s moving and so are your eyes, all over Ellie, wherever they can reach. You’re pissed and horny and you need a shot.

“You ever get the urge to strangle the fuck outta someone?”

“Mhm.”

You ponder, “How does it feel to smoke weed?”

She shrugs, “It feels good.”

“How good? Scale of one to ten.”

“… Thirteen.”

“Better than sex?” You ask quietly. Your brain is elsewhere, locked on the bulging blue veins in her hand, following the lines through her hoodie.

She ponders, “… Yes.”

“You’re biased, though. I can’t trust you.”

“Stop staring at my hands like that.” Her low voice is like a kick in your back, spine slightly arching in your chair. You’re glad she’s looking at the road; She’s making you go into heat and she doesn’t need to see it. Maybe Abby was right about you being a fucking hypocrite.

“Or what?” Your tone is icy, and she licks her lips.

“I’ll pull over.”

You shudder at her boldness, “Pull over.”

Your car jerks to a stop and you jolt forward, eyes still glued onto Ellie’s mouth. One kiss… It isn’t sex. It’s just kissing; Who doesn’t love kissing? You’re alone and warm and it’s gorgeous outside. It would be just a kiss. Just one, just one.

Ellie’s staring at you, eyes reminiscent of the storm outside. Flurrying and dark. Her tongue swipes over her lips again, and your gut swirls. “Stop staring at my hands.” You suck your bottom lip in your mouth when her breath hits it. She’s leaning forward and so are you. Just one kiss, that’s all you need.

Your pussy’s talking and she’s loud… Literally meowing for her.

“Is that a fucking cat?” Ellie whispers, nose brushing yours… She can hear that? How horny are you?

“Dude, that’s a cat! There’s a cat right there!” Her gasps shock you, and you peer out the window, finding a small, dark spot in gusts of white snow. There is a cat!

“Oh, my fucking god! Ellie, what the fuck—“ You’re pushing the door open and she grabs your arm.

“Wait, you’re gonna fucking fall— “

“We can’t leave her, she’s gonna die out here!” You rush out in seconds and you’re slipping like a cartoon character on a banana. You’re kissing the air to lure the kitty over, but she just cries. She’s probably starving!

“C’mere, baby, c’mon!” You hear Ellie muttering curses from behind you. After almost busting your face on icy concrete, you’re finally close enough to scoop up the shivering ball of fur, and you’re sobbing as you wrap your scarf around her tiny body.

“Ellie,” you choke, “We ca—can’t leave h-her— “

“Okay, okay, stop crying, where is she?” You hold up the bundled fabric and Ellie gently takes her, shoving her in her hoodie before grabbing your wrist and guiding you to the car. Ellie hops in the driver's seat, the car filled with desperate meows and your hysterical sobs.

Ellie cranks the heat and holds the wrapped furball, softly cooing at her.

“Where’s your mama, hm?”

Meow!

“No mama?”

Meow! Meow!

You’re wailing, “She’s a fucking or—orphan— “

“Can you be quiet.” Ellie snaps.

“O—“you sniffle harshly, “Ok—okay— “

“Hold her, I gotta drive. We’re going to Petco.” Ellie’s zooming down the street, whipping and swerving. You’re almost positive she ran a red light.

“I know you don’t like small animals, but c-can we keep her, please— “

Ellie’s lip curls, “It’s not that I don’t… not like them—” She rambles on, but you’re so focused on the baby in front of you. Poor thing looks so tired. What if she’s sick? Oh God, she would’ve froze to death if you didn’t stop—

You blabber to her between choked whimpers, “I love you so much, we’re gonna get you safe, don’t worry— “

“Oh, my fucking god,” Ellie sighs softly beside you.

Pheromones will have to wait. You’re a mother now.

After your emergency pet escapade, you and Ellie sneak the cat past the complex security and into your apartment. If anyone finds out — if Carol finds out — you’re fucked… and unhoused.

Small meows are filling your ears. Your baby’s full, at least. Poor thing was horking down minced tuna in the car. Her teeth are so small and cute. She looks like she’s going to doze off soon.

You watch as Ellie sets up her little area in the living room… Right next to her fucking photography set up when the fuck did she do that—

The corner of the living room is fully decked with maroon and ebony backdrops, Ellie’s sticker-littered camera resting proudly on its stand. There’s a… big ass umbrella-looking thing towering over the setup and a stool on the dark floor cover. There’s a small, white briefcase on it, tied down with a padlock. It’s either a gun or her portfolio.

“Bring her over here.”

Your gawking gets cut short as you cradle kitty over to Ellie, handing her over so she can lay her on the small, paw-shaped bed. She’s purring; Your heart’s melting.

“I see you haven’t changed your mind.”

Ellie’s tucking your baby in, “About?” She hums.

“The shoot.” You whisper.

“Why would I?” She faces you and stands. You shrug nonchalantly, but your mind’s racing. You probably found someone worthy of doing it.

Ellie inches closer, looking down at you. “Consider it roommate bonding… Featuring adopted cat child.”

You giggle. She's staring at your smile, all over your face. Into your eyes. Yours flicker down to her mouth. Either you're hallucinating, or she’s leaning closer. One kiss won’t hurt.

“Um…” She whispers, gaze dropping to the floor. “Earlier I was gonna… say something.”

“What is it?”

She shrugs, “… I forgot.”

“Okay.” You’re whispering now. She’s staring at your mouth. Her eyes are hypnotizing; There's a universe in them. A forest with trees that grow for eternities, miles and miles of green meadows.

“You’re staring.” She mutters.

“So are you.”

Ellie wants to say something. You can see it. But she doesn’t, and neither do you. “Gotta get up early… I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her voice cracks.

You’re cheesing and your hearts in your throat. “Yes. See you tomorrow.”

One last toothy grin, she’s gone into her room, door shutting softly for the first time. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath, already missing her presence.

You’re giddy when you finally climb into bed. You can’t help but think that Ellie is, too.

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lecsainz · 7 months

Note

Hope you're doing amazing! I love your blog so much! I come here almost every other day to day dream about my favourites and read your pieces again and again. Could i request Carlos x reader fic where Carlos comforts the reader after some reporters prod into their private life and the reader feels overwhelmed... Angst to fluff and maybe smut in the end?

SHE’S A BAD BAD GIRL

parings: carlos sainz x famous!reader

authors note: I gotta say, mixing a bit of AU with regular fanfic, can I just say I love doing magazine features?

summary: that one where the media makes up stuff about your relationship with carlos but he ain't gonna let that shake our relationship.

☆. . . masterlist !

Exclusive Source Reveals Startling Insights Into the Relationship of F1's Rising Star and the Elusive Heiress

The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?

By TMZ Magazine - September 2023

In the glitzy world of fame and fortune, where the line between reality and illusion often blurs, power couples are born just as swiftly as they fade away.

None have captured the public's attention quite like that of Formula 1 sensation Carlos Sainz Jr. and the enigmatic heiress Y/N Y/L/N. This power couple's whirlwind romance has been the subject of intense speculation, with many questioning the authenticity of their love. In a TMZ exclusive, we delve into the inner workings of their seemingly sensational union, revealing what lies beneath the surface.

It's no secret that the world of celebrity romance often blurs the lines between genuine affection and calculated publicity. In the case of Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/N Y/L/N, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship might be more PR strategy than a heartfelt connection. Our exclusive source, a close friend of the couple, disclosed that the pair has carefully orchestrated their romance to maximize benefits on both ends.

"They both know that being in the spotlight can help boost their respective careers," our source shared. "They decided it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Carlos gets more media coverage, and Y/N can use his popularity to her advantage."

Y/N Y/L/N, the elusive heiress whose life has been shrouded in mystery, has raised eyebrows with her numerous high-profile relationships over the years. It's no secret that she's been romantically linked to at least eight A-list celebrities, including musicians, actors, and even fellow heirs. Despite her apparent aversion to fame and the media circus that surrounds it, Y/N has consistently found herself in the headlines due to her high-profile affairs.

"The irony is that Y/N has always claimed to hate the attention that comes with dating famous people," our source revealed. "Yet, she's continued to choose partners from the same world she professes to despise."

As the couple's relationship has garnered more attention, their PR teams have been working tirelessly to manage the narrative. They've employed tactics such as carefully timed public appearances, social media posts, and interviews to keep the public intrigued and invested in their romance. This calculated approach, however, has led many to question the authenticity of their connection.

"Their teams are skilled at using the media to their advantage," our source admitted. "It's all about perception and maintaining their status as a 'power couple.'"

As the world continues to watch this captivating couple's every move, one question lingers: Is their love story genuine, or is it a calculated maneuver to seize the attention of the masses and advance their respective careers? Are Carlos and Y/N truly in love, or are they orchestrating a well-choreographed PR campaign for mutual benefit?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and revelations from TMZ Magazine.

Y/N lay sprawled across the plush sofa in the cozy living room of her shared home with Carlos in Spain. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays of light across the room. She'd been catching up on some reading when her phone buzzed incessantly, drawing her attention away from the book.

The headline on her screen was impossible to miss: "The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?" The TMZ article had surfaced online, and her heart sank as she read through the scandalous claims about their relationship. It was a relentless invasion of their privacy, dissecting their love as if it were a staged performance.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by the intrusion into their lives. She knew she had to confront this with Carlos, who had always been her rock in times of turmoil.

Carlos entered the room, sensing the tension in the air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he sat down beside her.

She handed him her phone, unable to speak the words herself. Carlos read through the article, his expression growing darker with every word. He clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in. "This is complete nonsense," he muttered angrily.

Carlos's anger simmered as he continued to read the invasive article. His protective instincts flared, and he couldn't fathom how anyone could twist their love into something so far from the truth.

"They have no idea what they're talking about," Carlos said, his voice low but filled with determination. "This is just trash journalism trying to stir up controversy."

Y/N looked up at Carlos, her eyes filled with gratitude. She'd always admired his strength and resilience. "I know, Carlos, but it still stings. I hate how they're trying to make our love seem fake."

Carlos's expression softened as he turned to her. "Mi sol," he whispered, using the affectionate term he had for her. "Our love is as real as the sun streaming through those windows. Don't ever doubt that."

Y/N managed a faint smile, her heart aching a little less with his reassuring words. "I just wish we could shut them up, Carlos."

A mischievous glint flickered in Carlos's eyes as he looked at her. "Well, maybe we can," he said cryptically.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Carlos swept her into his arms and stood up. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" she asked, her laughter mixing with curiosity.

He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm taking my sunshine to our room," he said, "away from all this nonsense."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Carlos carried her bridal style down the hallway to their bedroom. His laughter joined hers, and it echoed through their home, drowning out the noise of the world outside.

In that moment, as Carlos playfully carried her, Y/N realized that their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of fame and gossip. It didn't matter what others said or wrote about them. What they had was real, unbreakable, and filled with a kind of love that could weather any storm.

As they reached their bedroom, Carlos gently set Y/N down, and they both burst into laughter. He pulled her into a tender kiss, sealing their promise to protect their love from the prying eyes of the world.

As Carlos set Y/N down in their bedroom, their laughter filled the air like a sweet melody, banishing the remnants of unease brought on by the intrusive article. With a loving smile, Carlos cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked onto hers.

"You know," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "there's one thing those journalists will never understand."

Y/N's breath hitched as she met his intense gaze. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a soft murmur.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. "That our love," he murmured, his voice husky, "is the real deal."

Their kisses deepened, their passion igniting like a flame. Carlos's hands slid from her face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly against his lips.

Their love was a fire burning brightly, an unbreakable bond that no amount of gossip or scrutiny could diminish. As their clothes fell to the floor, they reveled in the intimacy that was entirely their own, a celebration of their genuine love.

In the quiet of their bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world, Carlos and Y/N proved that their love wasn't just a masterpiece of public relations. It was a passionate, fiery, and deeply genuine connection that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies entwined and their moans of pleasure filled the room, they knew that their love was their most cherished secret, a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, far away from the judgmental eyes of the world.

liked by charlesleclerc , taylorswift , and 13.657.473 others

carlossainz55 just had the best night of my life! thanks, gossipmongers, for the motivation.

tag: yourusername

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melzula · 2 months

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Hi, i love your stuff! Your writing is AMAZING!

Could you do a sokkaxreader fic, where reader gets majorly hurt saving sokkas life-and she almost dies and super angst but turns sweet/fluff?

-✨anon

a/n: ugh i love angst!!! tysm for requesting this <3

warnings: mentions of blood, injury,

summary: a fight gone wrong leads to an important revelation for you and Sokka

It all had happened so fast.

One minute your group is enjoying a nice breakfast together and the next you’re fighting off Azula and her minions. They’d ambushed you, catching you in a vulnerable position and striking the moment you least expected them to. You had the advantage of numbers against them, but these girls were immensely skilled, so you didn’t have enough of an edge to completely defend yourselves against their attack.

You were assisting Katara in trying to take down Azula when you happened to catch a glance of Sokka from across the way. His back was turned to you and his focus was set on trying to dodge Ty Lee’s chi blocks, so he wasn’t able to detect the blades that were being aimed in his direction. Your eyes widened with panic as you quickly make your way towards him; you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Mai from throwing the knives, but you’d at least be fast enough to get in their path and stop them from hitting your friend.

“Sokka, move!” You urged, shoving him out of the way and effectively knocking over Ty Lee in the process as well. You weren’t given the time to process anything else as you immediately felt the blades make contact with your skin, digging themselves deep into your back. You cried out in agony before immediately collapsing to the ground, all while Sokka watched on in horror.

“Y/n!” He screamed before scrambling to your side. The fabric of your top was beginning to turn a deep red, and you could already begin to feel the effects of blood loss take over. Your vision was hazy and your body felt cold, and yet you were still able to make out the features of his face as he stared down at you with tears in his eyes.

“Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of here!” He insisted, some of his tears landing on your face. You couldn’t find the strength to muster up a response, so instead you simply let your eyes close and allowed the cold to consume you whole.

When you regain consciousness again you find yourself in a tent. Everything hurts and your body feels like it’s on fire, and yet you can’t find the strength to move. Blurry faces hover over you and muffled voices fill your ears, but no matter how hard you try you can’t make sense of any of your surroundings.

“-more water. I need more water!”

“Why isn’t it working?!”

A sharp pulse jolts up your spine and this time you do cry out in pain, effectively startling the figures in the tent.

“Y/n!” A voice cries. Sokka’s voice.

He’s beside you in an instant, kneeling before you and taking your hand tightly in his own. You’ve never seen him like this, so distraught and terrified. You wonder what happened when you passed out.

“Try to stay awake, okay? Please stay awake,” he begs you before looking frantically to his sister. “She doesn’t look any better!”

“Sokka, I’m doing everything I can here!” His sister shouts back, equally distressed as she exerts all of her energy into healing you. Progress is there but it’s slow, and she worries that if she isn’t fast enough the damage may be permanent. Why did the blades have to hit your spine so perfectly?

“Sokka…” you murmur quietly, your eyes beginning to feel heavy yet again.

“No, no, no, y/n, look at me! Don’t go back to sleep!”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you’re swept back under.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you were last conscious, but the lamp beside you must mean that it’s grown dark outside. You feel warm, the sharp pain is gone, and all that is left behind is a sense of exhaustion from your adrenaline inducing day. You try to sit up only to immediately collapse due to the soreness of your back, but at least you’re able to move now.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t move,” Sokka insists, alerting you of his presence beside you. You feel his palm carefully lift the back of your head towards the bowl of water he holds in his other hand, allowing you to take greedy gulps until you’re satisfied. “Katara says you shouldn’t try to get up yet or you’ll strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting.”

“What happened? How long have I been asleep?” You ask groggily.

“About twelve hours,” he replies sullenly, and it isn’t until this moment that you’re able to detect the exhaustion present on his features. “Those blades dug right through your skin and into your spine. Katara spent hours healing you; for a minute we thought you might not make it or that maybe you’d live but be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Why did you do it?”

“What?”

“Why did you do it?” Sokka says more firmly this time. “How could you do something so stupid like that?! You could’ve died!”

“It’s not stupid to risk my life for someone I love,” you correct him with a faint smile. Your admission takes him by surprise, his face immediately growing hot and his mind actually at a loss for words for once.

“You… you love me?” He asks gently, almost as if he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought it was obvious, dummy.”

“Not to me!” He cries defensively. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a small shrug. “I guess there’s never really been a good time; there’s always another fight to win or people to save. It just didn’t feel right.”

“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs faintly. “But I’m glad you told me now, and I’m glad you’re alive. Because I can’t stand to lose another person that I love.”

You smile tiredly at his words, a new sense of understanding now being shared between you both. You love each other, and neither of you can stand to lose the other. This is real now, and you’re in it for the long haul.

He presses a kiss to your forehead then and urges you to get some more rest, and so you do. And Sokka stays planted right beside you to keep watch over you in your vulnerable state. In that moment he swears he’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.

And that’s a promise he intends to keep for a lifetime.

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #request #✨ anon #angst #fluff

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celesteleoves · 10 months

Text

“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

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cardansriddle · 1 year

Text

Teach Me - ( tom riddle x fem!reader )

part 2

Summary: Feeling awfully inexperienced, you ask Tom to teach you how to kiss.

Warnings: friends to lovers trope. old-fashioned mindset because it's the 1940s. sexual tension. implied smut but no actual smut.

A/N: It's 4 AM and I had to quickly write this idea before I could lose motivation. I love this "teach me how to kiss" trope so much so let me know your thoughts abt this!

buymeacoffee <3

༻♛༺

Tom's low voice carried around you as you lay your head against a tree, eyes shut closed to enjoy the serene atmosphere of the day. You barely paid attention to the meaning behind the words he was reading from his book, instead letting the soothing voice lull you to a relaxed state.

You adored these little moments with him. Your friendship with Tom Riddle was an unexpected one, yet not unpleasant. Whatever had bloomed between you two was unique, and you cherished whatever attention he could give you because you knew it was only you that received these rare moments with him.

"I'm bored." You suddenly interrupted him mid-sentence, huffing and opening your eyes to stare at the thick branches above you.

"What do you want me to do about it?" The wizard asked dryly, causing you to turn your head towards him. The sight of his profile greeted you, and you enviously traced your eyes over the perfect slope of his nose and the sharp edges of his jawline. Truly, it was unfair that he had been blessed with such pretty features.

"Maybe we should put aside the book? We've been reading almost every day now." You suggested, continuing to stare at him while his gaze remained glued to the pages of the book. "Tom."

"Hm?"

"You are not even listening to me!" You hit his arm at his offensive behaviour. The action seemed to snap him out of his trance and he met your gaze at last, eyes dark and holding an expression of bemusement. "This is dull. Let us do something else."

"Do what?"

You shrugged. "Talk?"

He seemed to contemplate his options, knowing if he kept reading you would persistently annoy him until he could no longer focus but if he complied with your request, he would at least receive peace of mind. With a tired sigh, as if he was trying to appease an insolent child, he snapped his book shut and turned to face you fully, causing you to smile in triumph at your small victory.

"Well, talk then." He gestured with his hand for you to speak, but you only glared at him.

"No. I always talk. Perhaps you should tell me about one of your adventures. Or stories. Anything."

He almost whined your name in protest but you hushed him. An idea came to your mind, something that you had been meaning to question him about, and you sat up eagerly. "You could tell me what Xavier and Avery were talking about yesterday? Remember? Before you told them to shut up?"

Tom only stared at you, his lips beginning to quirk up in a half-smirk. "Those are not for your innocent ears. Or any ladies' for that matter."

Instead of discouraging you, his words only caused your curiosity to grow. "Oh come on, Tom! I thought we told and shared everything with each other." You pouted, eyes pleading for him to indulge you in those secrets.

"You must stop." He tried to warn you but you decided to settle your head into the curve between his neck and shoulder, to attempt and soften him enough for him to speak.

"Walburga always talk about stuff like that. We are not as naive as you men think us to be."

He scoffed and averted his eyes down to his closed book. "Walburga does more than talk about it and I would advise you to steer clear from her presence."

"Did Xavier and Walburga lay together?"

He stiffened, and you lifted your head up from his shoulder to look up at him. He seemed lost, not knowing how to direct the topic of conversation elsewhere.

"I wonder what it feels like." You continued voicing your thoughts out loud, missing the way his head turned towards you swiftly, entranced by your genuine and clueless curiosity. "I mean I do not know what exactly transpires between man and woman but I can imagine the—"

His hand grasped yours on your lap, halting you before you could finish your trail of thought. "We should not talk about this topic any further." Although his voice was as gentle as he could allow himself to be when with you, you could detect the finality in his tone.

"But—but Tom! Would you tell me?"

You observed him as he clenched his jaw. "When the time comes, your husband will tell you and show you."

"But I wish for you to tell me. Do you not think my future husband would prefer me to know what I am doing at the very least? What if my terrible inexperience will bother him?"

He was quiet, staring at you with a flurry of emotions in his eyes. Something about his gaze caused your cheeks to redden and you opted to look down at your fiddling hands on your lap.

"Perhaps you could teach me something." You muttered after a long minute, not daring to meet his stare.

Tom's heart began beating unevenly beneath his robes. All of a sudden he felt too warm, too suffocated in his clothes. Tom was not pure by any means. He did not care for honour or propriety. Nor did he care for the foolish yearnings of men and women. He had indulged in those acts before, once or twice just to attempt to satisfy his body's urges. But he never actively sought it out. And he never particularly enjoyed it. But with you in front of him, so close to him that he could feel the scent of your perfume, he was just a regular man. And he had never felt desire the way he did at that moment.

"Stop." He said with a hoarse voice, and he cursed himself lightly before clearing his throat and repeating the word. "This is highly inappropriate."

"Show me just one thing. Please? Please, Tom?"

His pants tightened and his breathing got shallow. If you kept pleading him and uttering his name with such need surely he was bound to break. Surely no one would fault him for sealing his lips and yours—

No. He berated himself.

"Tom?" You moved closer, your knee bumping his thigh—

Before he could resist, his hand slid to grab your jaw. "You are being insufferable. I am holding myself back to protect your honour and yet you insist on me breaking my resolve."

"One time won't hurt anybody. Please?" With your last plea, and with a confidence you were not aware you possessed, you climbed over him to straddle him, sliding down until you were settled in his lap comfortably.

Tom froze underneath you. He could only stare up at you sitting so innocently on his lap as if you were born to be there and attempt to blink away the very ungentlemanly, very filthy thoughts from his brain. But how could he? With you pressed up against him, with only a few layers of clothing separating you, how could he banish those indecent images away?

"Teach me how to kiss." Your small voice filled his head again and how could he deny you anything when you were a pleading and desperate mess for him?

"Just once." He muttered with his last remaining resolve, no longer able to resist the pull that was urging him to close the minute distance between you. He moved to press his lips against yours and before you could respond, he retreated to gauge your reaction, only for you to whine and eagerly reconnect your lips back together. The grip on your hair grew tight, and he fought with himself to maintain control. But it seemed you had other plans as you needily pressed against him, the kiss no more gentle, but intense and messy.

Your body felt as if it was set aflame from the inside, and you would gladly burn alive if it meant you could experience this for the rest of your life.

His hands slid to grab a hold of your waist, and he lifted his hips up to grind the straining material of his pants against you. You gasped into his mouth at the action, and he did not miss the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moved your hips against his, feeling him hard underneath you. He groaned, the low sound travelling straight to your core.

"We should stop." He muttered between kisses, and your hand moved to take a handful of his hair and pull at it, causing him to look up at you with dazed eyes. "Or I will not be able to control myself."

"Don't you dare stop."

He moved his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses along your throat before you felt his teeth bite into your flesh.

"Tom." You murmured his name in pleasure, rolling your hips against him once more to feel that pleasant ache between your thighs once again.

Suddenly, you heard the snap of a twig from somewhere behind you, and you pulled away from Tom in horror to look back over your shoulder. One of the Slytherin boys you did not recognize was standing there, eyes on you with an expression of bewilderment.

He had caught you in a compromising position. This was not appropriate. If he said anything about this situation, you would be ruined. You quickly removed yourself from Tom's lap and stood shakily on your legs.

Hesitantly, you looked at Tom, and he was staring at the boy with cold indifference as if this situation was not severe. Feeling embarrassed and utterly horrified, you did not utter another word before you rushed away from the place, desperate to return to your dormitory.

You worried that the boy would tell everyone of what had occurred, people would gossip about your ruination, but most of all, you felt betrayed that Tom had just sat there and done nothing.

If only you stayed long enough to witness Tom obliviating the boy, perhaps you would not be in such distress.

༻♛༺

let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle smut #tom riddle imagine #friends to lovers #teach me how to kiss trope #tom riddle friends to lovers #harry potter

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vanteguccir · 3 months

Text

Galaxy girl | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Hi beautiful people! I'm Zach, and that is Dan, and welcome to the studio for the first time after many requests, Y/N!" Zach began with his standard intro, the camera moving away from him and onto Y/N, who was sitting comfortably on the couch facing her microphone.

"Hii, wow... I've lost count of how many nights I've spent hours watching your show, Zach, so being here is an honor! Thank you so much for having me." Y/N spoke with a smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement.

"It's amazing to have you here too. Believe me, the honor is ours." Zach replied, smiling just as much. "But tell me, how is life? Crazy, I imagine." He asked with a smile, taking in Y/N's features.

"Don't remind me, literally crazy! As I have Instagram, Tiktok, and YouTube to manage and post content every day, at least in one, I haven't had time to stop much, you know?" Y/N spoke while gesturing with her hands. "But it's been incredible. Over the past five years, I've loved every moment of it."

"I can only imagine, especially since you have a knack for fashion too, right? I see you a lot at events." Zach commented, taking a sip of his water.

"Yes, exactly. My content is a little bit of everything: humor, fashion, relationships, makeup, Q&A, day-to-day life, etc. I like this really mixed stuff." The girl let out a laugh when she finished.

"Yes, I think that's what attracts so many audiences to you too, right? You have subjects that cover all audiences." Zach commented, receiving a nod from the influencer. "And tell me a little about how it all started, from the beginning."

"Well, I've always been a person who loved to talk, my friends at school joked that if I sat next to an unknown person for ten minutes, within the first minute I would come up with a random topic and start a conversation." Y/N smiled when she heard Zach comment that that was something super interesting and traits of an extroverted person. "Plus, I've always liked having an audience and social media. I had Musical.ly many years ago, where I posted short makeup and hair videos."

"Wow, Musical.ly, I completely forgot it existed." Dan commented, laughing along with the other two.

"Yes, it looks like it was a crazy dream." Zach nodded, glancing briefly at Dan before returning his gaze to Y/N. "I saw some videos from that time. You once mentioned that you took makeup courses, right?"

"Yes, I took makeup courses at Make-up Forever Academy while I was at school. It's always been my favorite hobby." Y/N said, as she stirred her Starbucks coffee cup, her drink still warm. "And on Musical.ly, I only posted that, but over time, the app lost popularity, and people started looking for me on Instagram. At the time, my Instagram was pretty empty, I didn't post almost anything there, just some also makeup things. But then, I needed to change that since Instagram gave me a lot more tools to create more expansive content. It was the moment that I completely lost my shyness with cameras, you know? That's when I started talking about other things besides makeup and hair, and the audience grew. Famous people started following me as well, I remember I panicked about that." She paused, laughing, accompanied by Zach, who was listening intently.

"And my followers started asking for a YouTube channel, where I could make longer videos and each one about something specific. I thought a lot about it, but I took courage and created my channel, and it totally exploded, almost all of my followers from Instagram started to follow me there, but on YouTube the number of people doubled."

"It caught the attention of the public who only used YouTube, right?" Zach commented, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly! And I was just with this two social medias for a few years, until I discovered Tiktok, that's when I discovered that it was like an improved Musical.ly, and that a lot of people made content just on it. I remember thinking: why not? I was already fully on the Internet, and it wouldn't hurt to have another social network. The audience continued to grow, and there were shares all the time, likes, and comments, and with that, we reached 16 million subscribers on YouTube and 6 million followers on Tiktok and Instagram." Y/N finished, her face showing a smile as she momentarily remembered her long journey there.

"Your history with the Internet is truly incredible, you are one of the biggest influencers in the United States and well known all over the world, having started at 15 years old and fighting to grow and gain your own space." Zach praised, clapping playfully as Y/N waved her hand like it was nothing, her face turning red in embarrassment. "But you mentioned a subject I wanted to bring up: celebrities." He said, laughing when he saw the girl take on a fearful look.

"Jesus, what are you going to say?" Y/N asked with a smile on her face, she had already opened up her life and tastes so much to her audience, that she knew she would definitely have said something about celebrities that she didn't remember at that moment, but that Zach would bring up.

"There was a video on Tiktok where you were answering a question from a fan, who had asked what your favorite YouTube channel and your celebrity crush were." Zach began, approaching the microphone to his face. Y/N widened her eyes, taking a sip of her drink to hide her expression, vaguely remembering the video in question. "And you answered that your favorite channel was the Sturniolo Triplets and that your celebrity crush was Matt Sturniolo, is that correct?"

"Oh my God." Y/N muttered, hiding her red cheeks in her hands. "Yes, it is." She let out a nervous laugh. "The triplets are super funny, I just love their content! I'm not going to lie, I've never missed a video of them. I saw that Chris came here this year, right? I think their journey with YouTube is incredible." She said, Zach nodding as he confirmed that Chris had been on the show recently.

"They really are incredible people. Their content is gold. But, is Matt still your crush?" He asked again, looking at her with a smile on his face.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Y/N asked as she smiled sheepishly. "Yes, he's still my crush. I mean, have you seen that man? He's hot, has an incredible sense of humor, and is kind! Just perfect, just no more than Harry Styles." She counted the characteristics mentioned with the fingers of her right hand, laughing when she mentioned the British singer, trying to take all attention away from her admission about her crush.

"Yeah, guys, it seems like if you're not Matt, or Harry, you don't enter Y/N's list." Zach joked, looking at the camera, receiving laughs from the other two there.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The triplets were lying on the sofa in their home, each in a corner of the space, while using their phones. Sounds of tiktoks and reels echoed through the walls.

Nick was on his tiktok, browsing his For You, watching the millions of edits that his fans made for them, some videos of other subjects appearing from time to time. The boy let out a laugh when he saw an edit of himself with clips taken from the last car video, double-clicking on the screen to give it a like before scrolling his thumb up, Y/N's voice suddenly sounding from his phone.

Nick took his thumb away from the screen momentarily, paying attention to what one of his favorite influencers was saying, smiling as he heard her tell a little about her history with social media.

His smile was replaced by wide eyes seconds later when the girl's comment about his channel with his brothers and about Matt sounded.

"What?" He asked loudly, catching the attention of Matt and Chris, who had confused looks on their faces.

"What what?" Chris asked, locking the screen of his phone and tossing it to the side.

Matt only looked up from his own phone screen momentarily, returning his attention to his Instagram feed.

"You know Y/N?" Nick asked, his eyes darting from Matt to Chris quickly.

"That super famous influencer that Matt has had a crush on for years? Yes." Chris agreed, nodding his head as he adjusted himself in his seat, receiving a slap on the arm from his brother, who lowered his cell the moment the girl's name left Nick's lips.

"She knows who we are, and not only that, she talked about us on Zach's show." The redhead said with wide eyes.

"Zach Sang?" Matt asked, receiving a nod from Nick, who got up and walked closer to his brothers, sitting between the two and raising his phone, increasing the screen brightness and volume before hitting play on the tiktok again.

The video was a compilation of the show's favorite moments with the influencer. The triplets watched in silence until they got to the part where Y/N talked about her channel, also confirming her crush on Matt. Chris quickly turned his face to Matt with his mouth open in shock.

"Matt, THE Y/N has a crush on you." Nick reinforced, pausing the video and turning to his brother, who had wide eyes as he looked at the phone that had Y/N's face on the screen, a disbelief look on his own face.

"That's crazy." He muttered, shaking his head in denial. "It's not possible that my longtime crush has a crush on me, too. That only happens in movies. Right?" Nick rolled his eyes at the comment.

"It might be crazy, but it's not a lie. She wouldn't talk about our channel and reveal her crush on you if it was a lie or a joke." Chris commented as he fixed the hood of his sweatshirt, earning a nod from Nick.

"Next week, there will be that huge and super chic party for the biggest influencers and YouTubers in the United States here in LA, and we received an invitation. I'm absolutely sure she will be there. It would be a great opportunity to make contact with other YouTubers and get to know her, maybe even ask her to participate in a video with us." Nick reminded his brothers of the invitation, locking his phone screen and looking at the two.

"Are you sure about that?" Matt asked, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Out of the three, he was the least fond of parties, although none of them were very fond of it either.

"It would be great for the channel, Matt." Chris reinforced, shrugging. "It wouldn't hurt to try. If we don't like it, we can leave right away. But meeting Y/N seems amazing to me right now, and it would be a great opportunity for you."

"Okay."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you guys sure about this?" Matt asked after turning off the key in the ignition, keeping his hands on the wheel as he looked ahead, his ears picking up the loud sound coming from the party.

"Matt, it's just going to be a test, okay? It's interesting for us to make more contacts." Nick responded from the backseat, resting his hands on the sides of the front seats as he looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for Matt to look back.

Matt looked up, focusing on Nick through the mirror, who had a neutral expression. The boy shifted his gaze to Chris beside him, who was already looking at him.

Chris offered a reassuring smile, taking his left hand to Matt's right shoulder, squeezing the area.

Matt exhaled deeply as he mentally prepared himself. It had been years since he had attended such a big party.

It didn't take long for the triplets to get out of the vehicle. Matt locked the doors before they started their walk to the mansion where the loud sound of pop music was coming from.

Nick quickly pulled from the pocket of his jeans the invitation he had received in the mail that stated his and his brothers' names on expensive-looking paper and beautiful writing, holding it ready to present to the security guards at the front.

After being granted entry, the three entered the house, stopping for a few seconds at the beginning of the living room while their eyes traveled over the people there, recognizing some of their social media.

The mansion was extremely chic, decorated with golden tones and diamond chandeliers, long marsala red curtains covered the huge windows and columns that resembled those of Greek temples were spread throughout the space, along with two staircases in each hemisphere of the room with wooden handrails and a red carpet that led upstairs.

Youtubers, influencers, and celebrities filled the space, talking or dancing, some drinking, dressed in extravagant and expensive clothes.

Chris surreptitiously pointed to a specific point, making his brothers look there.

"That's Y/N, right?" He asked, earning a nod from Nick.

To Matt, the earth seemed to have stopped spinning, and the world seemed to have become static. The celebrities in the room suddenly stopped, the sound became muffled, and the smell of drinks and perfume disappeared. His breathing seemed to catch, and his throat felt dry.

Y/N looked perfect, having opted for an all-silver outfit: a mid-length skirt with a thigh-high slit from Diesel draped in synthetic silver along with a white crop top also from Diesel adorned her body. A pair of thin silver high heels decorated her feet, complemented by a silver Diesel bag and jewelry in the same color.

She looked like she came out of one of those galaxy movies, but much prettier than its characters.

Matt could have watched her from afar for seconds or minutes, just admiring her beauty and every detail of herself, but it still seemed to be too quick for his liking. Nick woke him from his hypnosis with a weak slap to his chest, getting his attention.

"You definitely don't know how to disguise it." He commented, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Nick." Matt responded quickly, frowning and briefly looking at Y/N again, before turning to his brothers. "I'm going to get something to drink, are you coming?" He asked, needing a cold soda at that moment.

Chris nodded, answering for himself and Nick, following his middle brother to the bar that was in the separation between the kitchen and the living room.

The space was extremely chic, a circle-shaped bar with a gold colored counter decorated with details in yellow and navy blue tiles, giving an air of wealth. At the front there were stools with synthetic gold upholstery and at the back, after the space where the bartender circulated, there was a large circular and high table filled with all types of drinks, including the most expensive ones.

Matt leaned his hips against the counter, choosing not to sit down, and glanced briefly at the bartender.

Nick sat on the stool next to him and Chris sat next to Nick, the two starting a conversation about a subject that Matt didn't pay attention to, his attention focused on the people around him, or rather, on one specific person.

His blue eyes went back and forth to Y/N's silhouette, admiring her from afar as he wished to be by her side, accompanying her and being the person she was talking to.

The girl next to Y/N and who had been talking to her since the moment Matt entered the room walked away, saying something while blowing an air kiss to the influencer, who smiled in response and turned around, facing where Matt was, but not looking directly at him, running her eyes around the people while taking sips of her drink, probably alcoholic.

Matt took a deep breath as he gathered his courage, straightening up and starting to take long steps towards the girl, crossing the room and passing among the famous people there.

"Matt, what do you want to- Matt?" Nick began, turning to where Matt was and stopping mid-sentence when he saw that his brother was no longer there.

"He's on his way to get his pot of gold." Chris commented, poking Nick with the index finger of his left hand and pointing at Matt, who was already approaching Y/N.

The brunette stopped next to Y/N, turning so that he was also facing the people around and shoulder to shoulder with her, a few centimeters between them. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans as he breathed slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

And then her voice sounded like it was the easiest thing she'd done all day. Her voice was silky in person, so inducing that it sent goosebumps across Matt's skin.

"You were working up the courage to say hi..." She lifts the glass, taking another sip, her lips shiny with gloss and bright red lipstick, her tongue escaping her mouth momentarily, licking the residue of the drink there. "Or would you just stare at me all night?" She turned around, facing him.

Matt almost choked on his own saliva as he heard Y/N confirm that not only had she noticed he was there, but she had also noticed that he had been looking at her this entire time. A weight settled in his chest. Perhaps it was shame or lust due to the way she said that without reservation.

"I didn't mean to disturb you. You seemed quite engaged in your conversation." He made up an excuse, knowing full well that he could have gone to the girl from the moment he arrived, but his fear of what would happen held him back.

"Engaged? In a conversation about who here has the most money and fame?" Y/N threw back, furrowing her eyebrows.

Matt looked around them, stopping his eyes briefly on the girl who had previously spoken to Y/N and who was now watching the people with a gaze torn between judgment and desire. A loud laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head in denial, the pettiness of some people impressed him.

"For what it's worth, you're the only famous person here that interests me." Matt commented, his blue eyes focusing on Y/N's face, analyzing her closely. An expression of satisfaction came over his face as he saw a red color take over her cheeks.

"You flatter me, Matt." Y/N looks back at him, their eyes meeting for a few long seconds, before hers travel across Matt's face, mentally taking note of every detail she could notice in the few seconds.

The boy smiled arrogantly when he saw her eyes on him, receiving an eye roll in response.

"Do you like what you see?" He asked, his voice taking a deeper tone and his pupil dilating as his lips stretched into a smirk.

"Don't let it go to your head." Y/N responded as she scoffed playfully, allowing the beginning of a smirk to emerge on the right corner of her lip.

At that moment, Matt felt like he could do something, anything, that would make her smile like that again or smile a bigger smile. He thought of a million possibilities of what he could say to cause that reaction in her, longing to feel the butterflies in his stomach again.

"You look beautiful tonight." Matt praised, his blue eyes traveling over Y/N's body momentarily, returning to her eyes. "Not that you just look beautiful tonight. You always look beautiful. But today you..." The boy tried to justify, getting caught on his words. "Look perfect."

A sigh escaped his lips, an apologetic look taking over his eyes as his right hand scratched the back of his neck lightly, feeling like a complete idiot for getting tangled up in front of the girl he has a crush on.

"I'm sorry, this isn't how I pictured myself meeting you." He groaned, looking at the ground in shame, hoping something would surge and save him.

"So you imagined meeting me?" Y/N smiled, feeling arrogant. She bit her bottom lip, feeling smug as she watched Matt blush and his eyes widen. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful tonight, too." Y/N let out a low laugh, returning the previous compliment, running her tongue between her lips, wetting them as her eyes traveled over Matt, pausing lingeringly on his exposed collarbone with the tank top he was wearing, the necklaces that decorated his neck made her mouth water.

Before Matt could even open his mouth to answer her, the sound of footsteps approached, catching both their attention. Y/N tore her eyes away from Matt's blue ones and looked ahead, seeing the same girl from before approaching again, holding herself back from instantly rolling her eyes.

The boy realized that the conversation would change direction and that, perhaps, he would no longer be included in it. A subtle sigh escaped his lips, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans again, looking at Y/N briefly, realizing that she was already looking back.

"I'm sorry." She asked, pressing her painted lips into a thin line before a beautiful, wide smile replaced it. "Text me on Instagram. You will be my priority to respond." Y/N spoke before being gently pulled away by her "friend", turning her face back quickly and sending the brunette a wink before looking forward again.

Matt watched her from behind as her high-heeled legs took long, quick steps away from him, a goofy smile taking over his features. He would definitely send that text.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are open, feel free to send requests or anything at all!! 🩷💋

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theyluvlyss · 4 months

Text

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

─────────────────────

What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."