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flickering-chandelier · 5 months

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I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier.

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning.

Azriel arched a brow in question.

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.”

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you.

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly.

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.”

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked.

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you.

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop.

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House.

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company.

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him.

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains.

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment.

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely.

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet…

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him.

Cauldron, you were doomed.

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap.

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement.

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank.

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him.

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend.

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell.

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was his relationships, well his lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off.

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way.

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much.

Maybe he should be with you.

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends.

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier.

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin.

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively.

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.”

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased.

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning.

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased.

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter.

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt.

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand.

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him.

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you.

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries.

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone?

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him.

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly.

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking.

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom.

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it.

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered.

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together.

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling.

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking.

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said.

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.”

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them.

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand.

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty.

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him?

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty.

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again.

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this.

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door.

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him.

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table.

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him.

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were.

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him.

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long.

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read:

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you.

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you.

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink.

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything…

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him.

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into.

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him.

“Hi,” you said, quietly.

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy.

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered.

He could only nod, his heart in his throat.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force.

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did.

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you.

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground.

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers.

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly.

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him.

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel angst #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar imagine #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #request

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her-favorite · 2 months

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HIS GIRLS; M. STURNIOLO

DAD!MATT STURNIOLO X F!MOM!READER

warnings: mentions of sex once - i just gave the daughter a random name (bc it’s easier) so if that’s your name, you can picture something else!!

a/n: REQUESTED! for requests, i’m going in order by when they were sent in btw! so if you’re request hasn’t been posted yet, i’m working on it! - i feel like this is asssss 😭 i’m soo bad at headcannons it’s so upsetting but i’ll do anything for some more dad!matt requests!!

SYNOPSIS: Matt with a teenage daughter!

tags!: @chrissv4mp @mattybsgroupie @dev-sturns @sturni0l0

dad!matt who: will learn about his daughter’s interests whenever she gets into something new..

“Mama, do you know anything about this?” Matt calls out to you, scrolling on his laptop, the white screen reflecting on to his features, highlighting the pretty qualities.

“Hm?” You hum, walking over to your shared bed as you sat down beside him. Leaning against him, you wrap your arm around his bare shoulders, looking down at the screen.

A laugh escapes your lips as you read the articles, several websites of random artists, movies, and celebrities that your daughter, Amelia, has talked about in the past. Matt always tried his best to understand the things his daughter has gossiped about, whether it’s for school or something online. Given, Matt’s spent so much of his life online, he felt crazy for not knowing almost all of the things she’s been talking about.

“Lia always talks about these things,” he says, scrolling his fingers down the mousepad, showcasing more articles - some read and others untouched.

“Why don’t you just ask her, sweetheart?” You ask, your hand moving up to brush through his hair. A quiet hum sounds from his mouth at the soothing feeling. He leans into you, resting the side of his head on your chest as he keeps scrolling through the google page.

“‘Cause I wanna know the next time she brings it up.” Matt whines, eliciting a chuckle from you. Your wrap your other arm around him, squeezing him in to you.

“She’s gonna be really happy.” You mumble, kissing his hair.

dad!matt who: will be overprotective whenever his daughter brings over a potential partner..

When Amelia had asked if her ‘friend’ could come over, you had agreed. To you, she had hinted to it being more than a friend situation. You had instantly picked up on the protective undertones of Matt’s attitude towards it, so you spent the last couple hours reassuring him.

“Matt, it’ll be fine. I’m sure—” you say softly, chuckling at the fact you have to cool down his protective dad side, before you hear a couple knocks on the front door. “Just.. relax.” You mumble, getting up from your spot on the couch. Before you could go over to the door, Amelia rushes down the stairs and darts to it.

“Dad, please be.. normal.” Amelia rambles, eliciting a laugh from you and a dramatic look of shock on Matt’s face. With a grunt, he gets up and walks behind you, resting a large hand on your head as he leans down to kiss your temple.

“I’m normal.” Matt mumbles before your daughter opens the door. You chuckle quietly at his muffled words before Amelia lets the other girl inside, shutting the door behind her. Matt stands behind you, arms crossed as he watches the interaction, a vigilant look on his face as he waits for his daughter and her crush to fully walk inside.

“Hi, Mrs. Sturniolo.” The unnamed girl smiles, fidgeting with her nails slightly. Your lips curl into a smile as you look at her.

“You can call me Y/N, it’s okay.” You chuckle.

After introductions are done, you look back at Matt. He’s in the same stance as before, glancing between everyone in the room. “Mr. Sturniolo,” the girl starts hesitantly, somewhat intimated by his presence.

“If you break my daughter’s heart—”

“Dad!”

“Matt!”

“What?” He asks innocently, looking from his daughter to you. You try to hide your smile as you smack his side playfully.

“It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” You smile before watching them walk away, into Amelia’s room. Turning back, you smack his side again, his flannel poof-ing with the contact.

“What? I just needed her to know.” Matt replies, not able to stop the grin that takes over his lips.

“You’re such an ass.” You roll your eyes, smiling. Walking away, you start your journey to the kitchen.

“Hey! Get back here!”

dad!matt who: will be at her beck and call..

When Amelia is sick, you can’t help but find it comical the way Matt flies back and forth throughout the house.

She needed soup? Matt’s making it. More blankets? Matt has five different options in hand. Water? Already done; she had some on her nightstand hours before.

Others may call her spoiled, but Matt wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves making his daughter happy, whether it be with words, physical touch, or just his presence. And despite her growing up and being at that age of emotions and confusion, he takes his time with her, listening to her and having as much patience as needed.

You and Amelia are his girls, that’s all that matters to him.

dad!matt who: will listen and mentally note down your advice for certain situations that Matt doesn’t experience..

When Amelia got her period, you were there every step of the way. And, despite Matt not knowing as much as you do about the topic, he did his best to help.

“Okay, so.. what am I looking for?” Matt asks into the call, his phone to his ear as his blue eyes scan the aisle that was filled with period products.

“Just some pads for now.” You reply, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you plated some food to snack on.

“Oh, like the ones I used to buy you?” Matt asks, a weight falling from his shoulders. Before you had Amelia, and it was just you and Matt, if you ever ran out of pads or tampons, he’d immediately take a trip to the store, scouring the aisles for said products. You used to chastise him for it, telling him to not bother and that you could get it for yourself, but he would ultimately refuse and gladly go out of his way to help you in any way he can.

You hum, nodding, even though he can’t see it. “We’re synced so you’re in for a ride.” You say teasingly, smiling.

dad!matt who: will comfort her after a breakup..

“It’s alright. Shh, sweetheart, deep breaths.” Matt soothes softly, rubbing his daughters back gently. A piece of his heart broke slowly as he held her, crying and crying as she mourns the once love-filled relationship. One side of him wanted to find the person that did this to her - his babygirl - and teach them a lesson, but the other, more logical side, told himself to stay with her, to help get her through this.

“She wasn’t worth it.” Matt whispers. Amelia’s tears soaked his shirt as she digs her face into his chest, seeking as much comfort and love as possible. “You’re such an amazing, beautiful girl. If she can’t see that, then she doesn’t deserve you.” He states gently, slowly pushing the hair that stuck to her tearstained face away and behind her ear. “Your mom and I are always gonna be here.” He reassures. “People in the future might leave, but we won’t. Every step of the way, we’ll always be here.” He says softly, rocking her back and forth softly as they sit on her bed.

“I love you, Lia. My sweet girl.” Matt whispers, kissing her hair.

dad!matt who: will beg you for another baby because of how much love he has for his daughter..

“C’mon! There’s no reason not to!” Matt pleads, following you into your bedroom for the night. Glancing back, you give him a look. “Baby, c’mon.” He whines. “Don’t you want another?” He whispers, sidling up behind you as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing your back into his front.

“Matt, stop trying to seduce me into having another baby.” You say, a laugh leaving you as you finish your sentence. Matt groans, leaning down as he rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“Need I remind you what it was like when he had Lia?” He asks, squeezing your hips. “Oh, Matt! Fuck, feels so fuckin’ good!” He mocks with a smile. You gasp, smacking his side as you get out of his hold, moving over to the bed.

“You’re so annoying.” You smile, shaking your head. Crawling onto the bed, you sit atop the covers as you look up at him. He looked really good; shirtless with grey sweatpants on, a bit of his red boxers peeking out of the low waistband. Basic, but hot.. and alluring.

“Is that a yes?” Matt smirks, getting on the bed as he hovers over you. He presses his lips to yours, smile never wavering. “Mm.. i’ll make you feel good, mama.” He whispers.

dad!matt who: will regularly go out to eat or shopping to spend time with her..

Today was Friday, which meant that, when Amelia comes home from school, her and Matt would go out. Sometimes you join and other times you’d let them have their fun together.

This time, they went to the mall as Matt aimlessly followed his daughter around, going into random shops and occasionally pointing out certain stores and spots talking about things he’s done with you in the past.

Matt looked at these little hangouts as getting to know his daughter better. He already spends so much time with her - and you, though you will never catch him complain about it - he likes picking up on the little things she does. She talks about school drama and plans she may or may not have for the future. He listens to her with curiosity and love, wanting to know every nook and cranny of his daughter’s mind.

“Stephanie said some craaazy things today.” Amelia gushes, picking at the food she ordered.

After the mall, they decided to stop and eat. Picking a local restaurant, the place wasn’t too busy so the food didn’t take as long. Matt ate what he ordered as he listened to Amelia, nodding along or saying his input on certain occasions.

“Yeah? Like what?” He smirks. Matt easily gets caught up in the gossip his daughter feeds him; by now, he knew all about Stephanie’s, Olivia’s and Cindy’s dramatics and love life just by the random things Amelia rants about. He finds it comical. He was never involved in that kind of stuff at school when he was younger, so it was intriguing to hear what was happening now.. though, he’d never admit that to anyone.

As Amelia goes on a tangent, Matt gasps and exaggerates certain reactions, causing his daughter to roll her eyes or scoff, only seeming to egg on her dad’s behavior. Her attitude was the perfect mix between you both, it was always entertaining.

Friday’s were his favorite days.. it was obvious why.

dad!matt who: will let his daughter join in on vlogs if she asked to..

With Matt, Nick’s and Chris’s youtube channel, filming was difficult for a while.

When she had first been born, Matt wasn’t in as many videos as usual. As she grew up, Matt surfaced in more as you took care of her, but not without dozens of worried messages from Matt.. even though, half the time, they’d just be sitting in his car chatting.

By now, the triplets’ channel has doubled in size. As they grew older, their videos limited, but they were always good when they posted. It wasn’t too often they vlogged anymore, but when they did, they had fun.

One day when Amelia had overheard a conversation between you and Matt about her dad going to film with her uncles, she had pleaded with him to join. Not only would she be able to be apart of the video, but she’d be able to see her uncles, who she loved dearly.

With a sigh, Matt caved in comically fast.

“We ended up at Target, somehow.” Nick says to the camera. The lens faced him as it captured him, Chris, Matt and Amelia in the shot as they walk through the parking lot.

“Yeah, ‘cause this kid doesn’t know how to say no.” Chris taunts Matt with a smile as he pokes his brother’s side. Matt shoves him in retaliation.

“Shut up.” He mumbles, rolling his eyes. A giggle leaves his daughter as she watches them, keeping close to her father.

A couple minutes into the video, Amelia had managed to take hold of the camera and she wanders down random aisles of Target. She flips it and shows a toy. “I used to have this!” She says to the camera before she hears footsteps coming closer. “I bet that’s my dad.” She turns the lens to face her and whispers. As she turns it back around, Matt emerges from the other aisle, smiling once he finds her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He says, walking over to her. He smiles exaggeratedly to the camera as she keeps it on him, a giggle escaping her lips in reply.

“Oh, you used to have this!”

dad!matt who: will genuinely not be able to say no.. so he’d have to go to you..

“Can I get this, please?” Amelia begs as she shows her dad her laptop. An expensive shirt was on the tab, something that she’s wanted for awhile.

“I.. uh..” Matt stutters, wiping his hand over his mouth, as if trying to rid himself of the incoherent babbles leaving him. Amelia looks over at him with expectant eyes, a slight pout to her bottom lip. How could he possibly say no to that? “Uh.. mama, can you come here!” Matt shouts, nipping at his bottom lip.

Making your way down the stairs, your eyes take in the sight. A slight chuckle leaves your lips as you notice the tense nature of Matt’s figure and Amelia’s pouty face that always makes Matt cave. “Hm?” You hum, walking over and sitting down beside him on the couch. Your eyes scanned over the website your daughter was on, your eyes widening slightly at the price.

“Um.. Amelia wants to get.. this.” Matt mumbles, glancing at you before looking away, as if he were a scorned child.

“That’s a lot, baby. Why don’t we go shopping tomorrow, hm? We can find something better.” You suggest softly, smiling as she thinks before agreeing, shutting her laptop. As she gets up, she kisses Matt’s cheek, then yours before making her way up to her room. “You need to learn how to say no, Matt.” You tease.

“I knooow! It’s just so hard to.” He whines, putting his hands over his face.

dad!matt who: will immediately agree if his daughter ever wanted to do his nails or practice makeup on him..

Sitting on his daughter’s bed, Amelia paints over another coat on Matt’s fingernails. He hadn’t gotten his nails done since before she was born, so having the sensation of the nail polish on his nails again felt refreshing.

Amelia was no nail artist, but she did a pretty good job. A few coats of a light blue polish painted over his nails satisfied Matt, his heart melting as his daughter somehow managed to remember his favorite color. Once she matches each finger on either hand, she caps the polish and sets it down. Matt brings them up to his face.

“I love ‘em, sweetheart. They’re amazing.” Matt smiles, blowing on them softly to help dry them more. When Matt had informed Amelia that he used to get his nails done, she was shocked, but ultimately, excited. She wanted him to willingly let her do his nails - not do it just to be a good dad and then frantically try to wipe them off. She was grateful to have such a caring, understanding father.

“I wanna do your makeup now.” Amelia states, her lips curling up in a smile. Matt chuckles, before nodding, ‘cause who was he to deny his little girl?

After a few minutes - and several twitches from Matt, along with playful shouts of “stay still!” from Amelia - all that was left was lipgloss and mascara. She stood in front of him as she uncaps the mascara, Matt’s eyes widening.

“Jesus.. I’ve seen mom use this, but..” He says warily, shaking his head slightly. Obviously, he wasn’t going to say no to her.. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him a little.

“Look up.” Amelia instructs, reaching out to gently stroke the wand along his eyelashes. “Daaad!” She drags out, laughing, once Matt blinks. Thankfully, it didn’t smear, but it caught her off guard.

“Sorry, Lia, it’s.. scary.” Matt mumbles, his voice trailing off as he looks up again, letting her repeat the same motions on his other eyelashes. Once she deems it done, Amelia puts the mascara away and grab her lipgloss. After applying it, she giggles, only making Matt’s smile widen.

“What’re you laughin’ at?” Matt chuckles. He watches her pick up a handheld mirror and give it to him. “I better be pretty.” He jokes, smiling.

“Very.” Amelia replies sarcastically, but her smile never wavers. Matt chuckles again before looking into the mirror, his lips parting as his blue eyes wander his reflection.

“Wow! I look.. wow..” Matt mumbles, teeth showing as he smiles. Amelia’s laugh fills the bedroom, Matt’s joining as he gets up from his spot, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“I look gorgeous.” He jokes, leaning down to kiss her head.

dad!matt who: spoils his daughter!! (and you)

Others may frown upon it, but Matt couldn’t care less.

He’s more than willing to spend money on you both; you’re his girls after all. You mutter something about how you thought a pair of pants were cute at the store, he’s buying them. Matt overhears a conversation where Amelia talks to you about liking this necklace online; it’s delivered a couple days later!

Not only will Matt spoil you both with gifts, but he’s even happier to spoil you both with cuddles and kisses.

Laying on the couch, you and Matt have had a relaxing night as you watch a show that’s been playing on the tv for the past half hour. Matt holds you as you lay on his side, his arms wrapped around you as he rubs your back softly.

Footsteps sound as they make their way down the stairs, entering the living room. “Hey, babygirl.” Matt says, looking over at her. “C’mere.” He moves one arm up, signaling for her to join. Amelia smiles as she rushes over, laying by her dad and looking towards the tv.

Matt rubs each of your arms softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your head and then Amelia’s.

“My girls.”

dad!matt who: will restrain himself from texting his daughter 24/7 whenever she’s hanging out with friends because he wants to make sure she’s okay..

“Matt, relax.” You laugh, plopping down next to him on the couch as he looks at his phone screen for the millionth time.

He sighs. “I just wanna know if my babygirl’s okay.” He says, leaning over into you as he wraps his arms around your middle, his face digging into your neck. You chuckle again, vibrating him as he squeezes you softly.

“She’s fine, sweetheart. If anything was wrong, she’d tell us.” You soothe, rubbing his back gently. He hums in agreement, but is yet to back down.

Amelia had went out with some friends a few hours ago and it was starting to get dark outside. So, as Matt’s natural dad response, he spent every waking moment checking his phone and voicing his worries about his daughter’s safety.

“I wanna text her.” Matt mumbles, his face smushed into your chest. The both of you sat on the couch together watching tv, snacking on some food. “I should text her.” He continues, reaching for his phone that you had taken and put beside you.

“No, Matt!” You laugh, grabbing his phone and putting it up in the air. Of course, had he gotten up from his position he could grab it, but he sighed and threw himself back down on top of you. “She’ll text us when she wants to.” You reassure softly, rubbing his back again.

Matt grumbles against your shirt before moving up and digging his nose into your neck, tickling the skin with his hair.

dad!matt who: will find it hilarious every time his daughter cringes whenever he’s affectionate to you..

“Thanks, honey.” Matt mumbles, grabbing the plate as he leans over to kiss your cheek before placing it down on the dinner table.

Amelia makes her way down, joining you both as you finish setting up the food. As she sits down, her blue eyes scan over the food, picking up what she wants and putting some on her plate.

“Looks amazing, ma. Good job.” Matt praises, kissing your head again, smiling. Before he walks away, his hand reaches down and slaps your ass, giggling as he rushes away and sits down at the table. You gasp, the washcloth in your hand swinging back to try and hit him, only to miss as he makes his way to the chair before it could make contact with him.

“Ew, dad! Stop!” Amelia whines, her face cringing. Matt laughs, reaching forward to take some food for himself as well.

You make your way over to the table and place down the last bowl of food. “Thanks, mama.” Matt says as he watches you. You lean down and kiss his head before pulling out your chair and sitting beside him. Once you settle down, Matt takes your chin and pecks your lips softly, lovingly.

“You guys are gross.”

dad!matt who: will be with you and his daughter every step of the way.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #dad!matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo x reader

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sweeterlovers · 17 days

Text

FOR YOU / CHARLES LECLERC + LOGAN SARGEANT

logan sagreant x leclerc ex & youtuber reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / addy kate

WARNINGS / cheating and logan is still on the grid with williams

INSTAGRAM

liked by f1gossip, f1girlfriends, and 56,825 others

f1wagupdates Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Y/N L/N have broken up. They announced through instagram!

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user6 i wonder why they broke up???

user11 THEY WERE SO CUTE WTF

user00 he lost a 10/10

user8 did you guys notice how they didn’t say it was a mutual decision??

user7 i think charles cheated (again)

user33 once a cheater always a cheater

user0 she probably deserved it

user44 BFFR

user66 💔 💔 💔

user9 give it a day and we’ll find out what really happened

user6 what do you know?????

user9 the truth always come out

user24 they were so cute

TWITTER

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liked by yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 178,626 others

yourusername in my reputation era 🖤

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user2 mother is mothering

user99 modern princess diana

user0 gorgeous

yourbsf his loss

yourusername ❤️❤️

user77 the fact that he’s still liking her posts

user1 ✨ O B S E S S E D ✨

user3 the dress is adorable 🎀🎀

user262 going to miss seeing her in the paddock

user3 logan and y/n were my favorite americans on the grid

user986 she should get with logan 😭😭

user22 ughhhh she’s too pretty

user4 reputation taylor’s version????

user555 it’s a need

yourusername i would die if she announced it

user6 we love a swiftie

user3 i hate how charles never took her to the eras tour……

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yourusername sometimes you just need to have a night out with your girls ❤️🖤

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yourbsf I LOVE YOU

yourusername love u too

user2 gorgeous girls

yourfriend 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

yourfriend prettiest

yourusername literally you

MESSAGES

logansargeant

hey! i was wondering if i could perhaps take you out on a date when i land in florida?

yourusername

when do you land?

logansargeant

tomorrow morning! i can pick you up from your house?

yourusername

i would love to!

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yourusername cute dress & good food ❤️🖤🤍

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user5 ugh she looks AMAZING

user88 she’s glowing!!!!!

user1 it’s the post breakup glow!

yourbsf ANSWER THE GROUPCHAT

yourfriend WE NEED DETAILS!!!’

yourusername OMG YOU TEXTED ME LIKE 100 TIMES

yourbsf AND????? we need details 🤞🤞

yourfriend WE ARE DRIVING TO YOUR HOUSE RN

user51 this is so real

user7 gotta debrief

user6 she looks so good in red!

user00 i wonder why logan is always liking her posts

user23 is he the boy?????

user63 that would be crazy

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yourusername post swim 🌊🌊🪸🪸

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user1 gorgeous girl

user77 she’s so hot i can’t

logansargeant 🌴🌴

yourusername ???

user2 how does one look so good after swimming????

user666 FOR REAL!!!!! she looks like she came out of a modeling shoot while i look like a seal

user9 😍😍😍

yourbsf PRETTIEST GIRL

yourusername I LOVE UU

yourbsf ⏳⏳⏳

user4 if i was charles i would be at her door with flowers and a boom box

user8 he lost a BADDIE

user4 but logan gained one 💪💪

yourfriend literal model 🙏🙏🙏🙏

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user342 showing this to my plastic surgeon

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logansargeant i’m making this post while your sleeping on my lap (post swim) i can’t help but feel so much love for you. you are the embodiment of sunshine. you light up the room. these past few months with you have been the highlight of my life. having someone like you beside me has truly lit up my world. who knew that someone’s lost and mistake would change my life forever. i hope that in 10 years you will still be by my side, on our porch, in our house in florida. i love you y/n, thank you for taking a chance on me 🫶🫶

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user4 THIS IS SO ROM COM CODED

user33 charles could never

yourbsf logan i was skeptical at first, knowing how broken y/n was but you have seriously made y/n so so happy. this is the happiest a boy has ever made her. those couple of months with you has truly changed her. i could care less about the backlash my comment might cause but thank you for treating my best friend the way charles couldn’t.

logansargeant your approval genuinely means so much

user3 the greenest flag

yourusername i’m crying right now, i love you logan i truly do. thank you for showing me what a boyfriend should be like. i can’t wait to have a future with you. (i need to make a post to one up you)

logansargeant i love you too, don’t worry you can post anything and i’ll give you it all ❤️i’ll let you beat me in anything

yourusername AWWW YOU REALLY LOVE ME

logansargeant i really do

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yourusername thank you for teaching me what love truly feels like

comments are limited on this post

logansargeant i love you so so much

yourusername i love you too

yourfriend 🤍🤍🤍

yourbsf “he’s a good man savannah”

yourusername LMAO

yourusername on a real note he really is a good man

TEAM RADIO / SWEETERLOVERS - i had this idea in my notes app for a while and i actually did it!!!

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bumblesimagines · 1 month

Text

Grateful You're Mine

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Princess Helaena finally weds the man she's been engaged to since they were children. She finds married life to be more than she expected.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, arranged marriage trope, fluff, they match each other's freaks and social levels, canon divergent/au since the twins aren't Aegons, literally nothing else just short and sweet

Crazy we hardly got to see the pleasant and happy girl she was described as 😔 WFMF coming soon!! just thought i'd give some other characters attention for once

~~~

As consciousness seeped into her body, the sweet smell of flowers filled her nose, powerful yet not overwhelming enough to irritate her. It took her brain a few moments to catch up and remind her that she no longer resided within the dreary walls of the Red Keep, but instead in her new home in Highgarden. She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles gently and pushed herself into a sitting position, her eyes sweeping around the room before settling on the empty spot in the bed beside her.

"Good morrow, Princess Helaena," Her handmaiden, Maecy, greeted with a friendly smile as she set down a tray with food to break her fast and herbal tea to warm her body.

"Good morrow," She responded sleepily, slipping her legs free from underneath the blankets and wriggling her feet into the slippers beside the bed. "Has Lord (Y/N) gone somewhere?"

Her handmaiden smiled knowingly, her slender fingers picking up one of the brushes set on the vanity. "I cannot say, My Princess. I am afraid I have been sworn to secrecy for the time being."

Helaena's head cocked to the side but she nonetheless nodded silently and stood up, shuffling across the room to retrieve a slice of honeyed bread. She sat down on the comfortable chair and began eating, savoring each bite and licking her fingers clean as Maecy began delicately brushing her hair, untangling knots and smoothing the frizz out with oils. Once finished with her breakfast, Helaena stood up and blinked owlishly at Maecy when the brunette remained rooted in her spot instead of gathering the clothes she'd be wearing for the day.

Before she could question her, the doors parted and Helaena turned around, a smile immediately gracing her features upon seeing her new husband enter. (Y/N) returned it and walked forward, a servant following with a box in her hands as the doors shut firmly behind them. Helaena eyed the box curiously, her brows furrowing questioningly at him.

"Do you recall that drawing you really liked of the beetle?" He asked her, leaning down to pluck a leftover grape from her plate and plop it into his mouth. Helaena gave a slow nod and he brightened, peering over his shoulder to nod to the servant. "I had a gift made for you."

Helaena watched as Maecy and the servant worked together to take the lid off before she gaped at the sight of a pretty soft blue dress with white accents. They lifted it from the box to showcase its full beauty, and her heart leaped in her chest at the lovely white design of a stag beetle threaded into the bosom area of the dress with small white flowers around it. She pressed her fingers to her lips, her pale lilac eyes widening as she fully absorbed the beauty of the dress.

(Y/N) watched her, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. "Do you like it?" He questioned somewhat nervously only for the nerves to fade at the sound of Helaena's giddy giggle. She nodded and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips that made his skin warm.

Eagerly, Helaena allowed Maecy and the servant to help her dress, the two women giggling softly under their breaths at the way Lord (Y/N) turned around despite the two having wed the week prior. When they finished, Helaena studied her reflection in the mirror, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip at the wave of excitement and giddy rushing through her veins. The compliments and coos from the women were swiftly overshadowed by the way her husband's eyes lit up at the sight of her.

"It is truly lovely," Helaena spoke softly, clutching the skirt to walk better as she strode forward before releasing it to take his hands into hers. He smiled again, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands soothingly, just as he had done under the table during their wedding celebrations when the music and loud chatter had become overwhelming for her. "Thank you."

"Mother thought the fabrics would have been better in green but I've always thought you looked lovelier in blue." (Y/N) told her and she felt her own skin warm, a breathy and shy laugh escaping past her lips. He released one of her hands to brush back one of her silver strands, his eyes softened and filled with genuine warmth.

After witnessing the loveless marriage between her parents and the chaotic marriage between Aegon and his Lannister wife, Helaena grew to fear her own wedding would be a miserable one. Her marriage to (Y/N) had been arranged by her grandsire after her mother dismissed the idea of her marrying her own brother and rejected her older half-sister's proposal to wed her to one of her sons, although he remained a stranger for many years until the Tyrells expressed their desires to see their heir with children of his own.

She'd been nervous that day, and her mother's own anxiety hardly helped her own, but when (Y/N) stood before her with a pink hydrangea in hand and his eyes averted to focus on the floor beneath them, she realized she had little to fear. When they'd been left to wander the garden with a handmaiden trailing behind them, the awkward air faded with ease once she began speaking of her beloved crickets and the small creatures she found most interesting and he told her of the flowers that attracted certain creatures. A spark had seemingly ignited, one fueled the night of their wedding day when he offered to lie to their parents when she'd grown too nervous to consummate the marriage.

"Oh," (Y/N) brightened once more. "You must see the garden at this time of year, Helaena. There's butterflies in every corner."

And so they took a stroll through the garden, taking in the floral scents in the air and the vibrant rows of flowers with butterflies, other winged insects, and even a few hummingbirds bouncing from flower to flower.

Her mother had been right when she told her a girl of her disposition would do well within the peaceful walls of Highgarden; everything about Highgarden felt calming. The Red Keep had a tense air to it with its gloomy weather and near-suffocating residents but those who resided in Highgarden appeared more carefree and happy. Helaena enjoyed it, enjoyed being in a place where she received smiles instead of judgemental glances.

Unlike in the Keep where time passed agonizingly slowly with little to nothing new happening, Highgarden always seemed to be bursting with life and music. Helaena found herself passing time with her husband in the garden, her hands focused on beginning an embroidery of a pretty butterfly she spotted whilst (Y/N) drew a flower with his chalk on paper. Things were silent between them yet merely spending time beside him satisfied her, allowing her to work with a small smile on her face.

When they finished with their respective pieces, they returned inside and ate lunch in the quiet of their bedchambers. Helaena watched the servants scoop up the plates and take them away, cleaning the table and curtsying before swiftly leaving the room and leaving her to turn to look at (Y/N). His head remained tilted toward the balcony overlooking the large maze, his eyes distant but expression content.

"Husband," Helaena roused him, bringing him back to the present. She licked a crumb off the owner of her lips and straightened up in her seat, casting Maecy a glance. "What do you think of having children?"

"Babes are loud and messy." (Y/N) responded, leaning back into his chair and swirling around the last of his tea before bringing it to his lips. "It would be... nice to have some, though. I think it would please Mother to have grandchildren and Father would surely dote on them."

"I'd like to have some soon," Helaena revealed. She'd always been told she'd make a lovely mother. "A boy and two girls, I think, would be nice. Mother claims Hightowers oft' have many boys, though."

"We can have as many as you desire."

Children, Helaena came to learn, were rather interesting little creatures that brought forth such wonder and intense feelings out of her. Helaena simply couldn't get enough of watching her newest little one sleep cradled in her arms, her rosy cheeks more apparent from the complexion she'd inherited from her mother. Daenys gave a small yawn and squeezed her eyes before parting them to reveal the violet beneath.

"Someone has finally awoken," Helaena murmured, tilting her head to look at her husband. He held a book in his hands, one about different flowers documented across Westeros, with their sleepy twins nestled between his arms. She reached out to run her fingers through Jaehaerys (H/C) hair, unable to bite back the smile when he nuzzled further into his father's chest.

Carefully, (Y/N) set the book aside and scooped Jaehaerys up to settle him at his mother's side before he took Daenys into his arms, eyes crinkling with joy when she cooed at the sight of him. "I hear your nieces and nephews may give Queen Alicent some gray hairs." He chuckled. "It is no wonder why she visits as often as she does."

"Maelor and his siblings have inherited much from their parents, I suppose. A lioness in gold forced to live in the cold will always have her claws out... and Aegon's never been... easy." Helaena spoke, her arm sliding around her only boy and the future heir to Highgarden. The look (Y/N) sent her way made her chuckle, lightly shrugging her shoulders. "I am certain he is a good father even if he may not be.. an adequate husband."

"If you say so." (Y/N) murmured, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against Daenys just to hear her burst with giggles. Her dozing sister parted her eyes at the sound and eagerly moved closer, eyes wide with adoration as she took in her new sibling again. Her father sweetly stroked the back of her head, tilting his arm so she'd have a better look at Daenys. "Though, he is as good of an uncle as Prince Aemond. He has already sent the finest jewels for Daenys."

"It's not so bad being married to a Targaryen, then?" Helaena asked teasingly, leaning toward him to rest her chin upon his shoulder.

(Y/N) huffed a small laugh and kissed the side of her head. "Yes, it's not so bad. It's lovely, if anything, dearest."

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stillfrownyclownlol · 9 months

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Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #aiden x ashlyn #im gonna scream #rip my teeth out #idk idk #im just mentally ill about them 🫠#tw obsessive behavior

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theemporium · 9 months

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[13.2k] the chalet was your home away from home in the festive season. but this year it may become the place you fall in love with the last person you expected. ft my very limited knowledge on how skiing works. (very lazy smut included)

Your family had always gone to The Chalet with the Montgomery’s for as long as you could remember.

One spontaneous ski trip decades ago led your parents to start a tradition that would last through the generations. Every year, both families would fly out to the mountains of France to enjoy the festive season in the homely ski resort called The Chalet. Owned and ran by an elderly couple, it was the kind of place you would see in hallmark movies, or maybe even in a snowglobe. It was a place beyond your greatest winter wonderland dreams and imagination. The Chalet didn’t feel like a real place, and that was why the getaway every Christmas made the holiday so magical.

It was your home away from home, a safe haven. It was the one place in the world where you could disappear from reality and embrace the isolation from society.

At least, that was what the three weeks in the ski resort usually felt like.

And after a year of moving away from home, starting a new job at the bottom of the food chain and dealing with more social circle drama than you ever intended to deal with, you craved nothing more than the simplicity and enjoyment The Chalet had to offer. You needed the break away from your life, a break away from the life you weren’t totally sure you had under control.

You just wanted your home away from home, and instead when the families arrived at the resort, you were met with crowds of strangers swarming the place like a colony of buzzing, irritating bees.

“What the hell?” You muttered once you had stepped out of the car, looking at the throng of people lingering outside the main entrance to the resort.

“Apparently the place is booked out,” your mother noted from somewhere behind you as they began to unpack the bags from the boot of the car. “Madame Blanchet reserved our usual rooms when she started getting more and more bookings.”

“Since when was this place overbooked?” You commented, a little blunter than intended. But it was hard to mask your surprise. A part of The Chalet’s charm was that it was a small, unknown ski resort hidden amongst the many that were established in the French Mountains. For as long as you could remember—hell, even before that—there hadn’t been more than ten or so families staying at the resort over the Christmas period.

“Maybe Madame Blanchet finally learnt how to make a website,” a voice remarked from beside you, sounding quite amused by the mass of people, which shouldn’t have really surprised you.

And just like you expected, you turned your head to find Harper Montgomery grinning widely at the crazy crowd like she was expecting it. She stood beside you with her hands on her hips, something about the bright ski suit looking so out of place, not that she acted as much. Every year, you swore The Chalet wasn’t ready for her and every year you were proven correct.

“Considering the woman still has a dial phone, I am going to doubt the sudden online advertisement,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe this will be the Christmas we make new friends,” Harper noted, her head tilted to the side and her dark eyes scanning the crowd. “I am pretty sick of Mrs Hartford beating me at scrabble.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Maybe you should stop challenging her then.”

Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Never.”

“I still don’t get why so many people are waiting outside,” you grumbled as your eyes fell back to the crowd, noticing the way they were buzzing with some sort of excitement. “I don’t even think the lodge has enough rooms for this many people.”

Harper hummed. “Maybe—”

“OH MY GOD!”

Your eyes widened in alarm as you turned your head, seeing Evan standing a few feet away from you and Harper. The older Montgomery was gripping his phone, eyes full of adoration and awe as he grinned at his screen like a madman. He let out a high-pitched squeak, catching the attention of both families as they looked at him with varying looks of concern.

The blond finally lifted his head, oblivious to the worried looks as his grin seemingly widened. He thrusted a phone towards you and Harper, almost buzzing in his spot. “He’s here!”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“He’s here!” Evan repeated, just as enthusiastic as the first time. “He is in our ski lodge! He’s here!”

You still looked equally confused. “Who?”

“His little man-crush,” Harper noted as she glanced down at his screen.

“Charles Leclerc!” Evan sighed, almost dreamily as he hugged his phone to his chest. “We are spending Christmas with Charles Leclerc!”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, pushing past the boy to grab your suitcase so you could finally go check in. “For fuck’s sake, not your little driving guy.”

“Hey,” Evan frowned. “He’s more than that.”

“I have to listen to you talk about him for nine months of the year,” you remarked, though even that felt like an understatement. “Christmas is meant to be my free time from your little obsession. We made a deal.”

Evan blanched. “That was before I knew he was here!”

“And now he’s ruining Christmas,” you grumbled bitterly, letting out a wince when you felt a pinch to your side.

“Don’t be such a grinch,” Harper teased. “Let him be a fanboy and spend his days on the slopes hunting the guy down. Don’t let it ruin your holiday.”

You snorted. “That will be hard when he is talking our ears off about Charles’ pretty green eyes or the way his hair looks after a race.”

“It’s fluffy!” Evan defended. “It’s unreal after a two hour race in a helmet!”

“Whatever,” you muttered as you patted the boy on the chest as you moved past him. “You have him all to yourself, you won’t see me complaining about it.”

Evan puffed his chest out. “You just can’t appreciate greatness.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” you waved him off. “I’m here to ski and relax. As long as this Charles guy keeps you and his little fanbase far away from me, I don’t care what he does.” There was a pause and Harper gave you a questioning look when she saw the glint in your eyes. “Even if he is overrated.”

Evan’s jaw dropped. “You did not just—”

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” You called out behind you as you grabbed Harper’s hand, dragging her towards the main entrance with you and letting your laughs echo through the reception as the boy swore up and down behind you.

…

You could have said that your resentment towards the Ferrari driver was purely based on how much Evan spoke about him during the racing season, but that would be a lie.

It had started off that way when the boy finally made it into Formula One. Evan had been a motorsport fanatic from a young age, always eager to ramble away to you and Harper on various championships and seasons neither of you particularly cared about. As you got older, you learned to become more accepting and tolerant of the fact your Sundays would always be hijacked by whatever grand prix was occurring that weekend.

However, when a young hot shot joined the sport that Evan had been following through the lower leagues, you didn’t realise just how quickly that tolerance would disappear until he was yapping your ear off after every single race.

And truthfully? You didn’t get it. You didn’t get the sport in general, you didn’t understand what made a driver good or bad, and you didn’t understand the world’s obsession with Charles Leclerc as the years passed. To you, he just seemed like a pretty boy who enjoyed the spotlight of being the face of the sport. To you, he seemed like nothing more than a show pony.

And no amount of debates and rants from Evan would change that.

You wouldn’t have gone out of your way to say you hate Charles Leclerc, but you would say you were coming pretty damn close since you arrived at The Chalet.

The Chalet was bustling from the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you fell asleep. Wherever you went, it felt like you were pushing through a crowd to get from point A to point B. And the amount of times you had fans gripping your arm as you walked past, asking you if you had seen the Monegasque driver was starting to make you want to rip your own hair out.

Yet, despite the buzz around the driver being in the lodge and the amount of fans circling the place through various hours of the day, you had yet to see the boy himself and that was something you were perfectly content with.

You had managed two blissful days before you crossed paths with Charles Leclerc.

You had been taking too long to get ready so you assured Harper and Evan you would meet them at the slopes, insisting there was no need for them to wait for you. Both Montgomery’s—stubborn as ever—scoffed and told you they would be waiting for you in the lobby instead.

You had been in a rushed state when you made your way towards the equipment valet, eager to just quickly hand your locker number over and collect your equipment. However, your path seemed to be blocked by a man standing in front of you, nose buried in his phone as he muttered in a language you didn’t quite understand.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I just—”

“Fucking hell,” the man swore, causing you to pause and frown at his back.

You were taken aback, not expecting that response or the scoff that left his lips afterwards. And when he turned around, you were even more shocked when you realised you knew exactly who the rude man was—none other than Charles Leclerc.

“Look, I appreciate that you are a devoted fan and I am grateful for the support, but I really don’t have time for pictures right now,” Charles continued and, to his credit, did look a little empathetic. Though, that didn’t take away from the underlying hostility in his words. “I am just here to enjoy my break. Please let me do so in peace.”

You blinked, absolutely flabbergasted by his assumption. “Huh?”

The smile he gave you was almost condescending. “As a fan, I am sure you’d understand that I’d want a few days just free from the media and—”

And it seemed like only then did your brain catch up with the situation.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, I am not a fan,” you stated as bluntly as you could, watching the boy’s face morph into something quite like confusion. As though he genuinely couldn’t compute the fact somebody wasn’t a fan of him.

“What?”

“I was just trying to get my skis and you were standing in my way like a douche,” you said simply, watching as his brows furrowed closer together. “Which I would have felt bad for calling you before I realised who you were.”

“Who I was,” Charles repeated, still baffled as you pushed past him to do just as you said.

“Hot shot who thinks everybody who breathes near him cares about who he is,” you supplied, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you now stood before him with your skis in hand. “Have a great day, Charles Leclerc.”

And the boy didn’t get a chance to say anything as you walked away, your mood positively ruined by the time you reached Evan and Harper in the lobby. They took one look at your sour mood and raised their brows in question, but you simply grumbled and waved them off, in no mood to repeat your interaction to Charles’ biggest sympathiser.

Fortunately for the Montgomery siblings, your mood eased up by lunchtime and you were (mostly) over the whole interaction.

…

Or at least, you were over the interaction until dinner came around.

Dinner at The Chalet was like one massive family meal. With a large hall dedicated as the dining area, the Blanchet’s had set it up quite like a buffet system. There were tables of food bordering the room with tables dotted through the middle. Everyone sat on the round tables, in their little families and looking like a picture perfect scene for the final meal of the day.

So of course your final meal of the day had to be ruined by an arrogant Monegasque who grinned at you like you two were old friends.

“Ah, you! I’ve been looking for you.”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have even realised he was talking to you if it weren’t for the fact the boy had stopped right beside you, practically looming over your shoulder as you tried to help yourself to some macaroni cheese.

You raised your brows, giving the boy a once-over before returning your attention to your plate.

“Uh, hello,” Charles tried again, his brows furrowing together a little at the cold shoulder you gave him.

“Hi,” you stated simply, not wanting to spend any more moments with the Monegasque than you had to.

“I wanted to apologise for earlier,” Charles continued, seeing your response as an open invite to a conversation.

“Do you now?”

“Yeah,” Charles nodded, a smile making its way onto his face as your sarcastic tone went completely over his head. “Listen, I really didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—this is my holiday and I had no intention of my location being leaked. I just wanted a break from everything, you know? And I guess the frustrations of being bombarded for the last few days just got to me.”

And truthfully speaking, a part of you sympathised with the boy. Though his fame reached levels you would never understand, The Chalet was your haven away from everything. It was a place where reality never seemed to touch, a place to escape. You could understand better than anyone what it was like to crave that feeling in your life.

But just as you opened your mouth to say as much, Charles seemed to remind you exactly why you disliked him in the first place.

“And I just wanted to clear things up with you before the media found out and—”

“So, you’re only apologising because you don’t want me running to journalists and ruining your image?” You interrupted, catching the boy off-guard as he gaped at you for a few seconds.

“Well, yes, it wouldn’t look good if I was harassing fans,” Charles said.

“But I’m not a fan,” you corrected him, gripping your plate in your hands. “And I certainly don’t care about shattering someone’s image for fifteen seconds of fame, no matter how much of a douche they are.”

Charles frowned. “I—”

“You can take your apology and shove it up your ass, Charles,” you said, that sickly sweet smile on your face once again as you turned around to find whichever table your family were sitting at. But a hand reached out to softly grip your elbow and you turned to find Charles looking at you with a helpless expression.

“I am sorry,” Charles said to you, something in his voice that you didn’t really understand. “But I also care about my image. Surely you can understand that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you retorted as you tried to tug yourself free from his hold.

Charles opened his mouth to reply, but a louder voice caught the attention of both of you.

“STORMY! OVER HERE!”

You felt your face heat up as you glanced over your shoulder, finding Evan sat amongst your family and his own as he waved you down. He had a shit-eating grin on his face (most likely from the fact he used the one nickname that he knew pissed you off more than anything else in front of everyone) and looked like he was about to do more when his gaze shifted to the man beside you. His jaw dropped, a comical expression on his face as he looked between you and Charles Leclerc.

“Stormy?” Charles repeated, looking over at you.

You ignored his questioning gaze, instead narrowing your eyes at the hand still gripping your elbow. “Can you let me go now or is there more to your shitty apology?”

Charles opened his mouth once again, yet another person interrupted him before he got a chance.

“Charles? What’s taking you so long?”

Your eyes wandered to the girl who saddled up beside him, her expression light until she turned to look at you. Her gaze was calculated, her blue eyes seeming to size you up and something about the all white attire made you wonder if she was really playing into the Ice Queen vibes.

“Another fan?” She sighed, as though your presence was the biggest inconvenience to her. “Honey, he can take pictures with you after dinner—”

“That’s fine, we’re done here,” you quickly corrected, ignoring the patronising tone in her voice or the way that Charles still looked like he had more to say. “I won’t be bothering either of you anytime soon.”

You turned on your heels before either one of them had a chance to drag out the interaction any longer than it needed it to be. You weaved through the tables before making your way towards the table your family had chosen, settling yourself in the free seat beside Evan.

“That was Charles Leclerc!”

You hummed, grabbing your fork as you began to dig in. “Unfortunately so.”

“Dude, what the hell!” Evan hissed, pinching your side until you let out a small squeak and turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

You frowned. “I don’t.”

“You were talking to him for ages!” Evan countered.

“He was just being a dick,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Plus, that was probably the last time I’ll ever talk to him.”

Harper snorted. “And you didn’t even get him an autograph.”

“Not that I would ask,” you prefaced before shaking your head. “But I doubt he would have given me one anyways. We…got off on the wrong foot.”

“It’s Charles Leclerc,” Evan scoffed. “There is no wrong foot.”

“Keep it in your pants, dickhead,” you teased, lightly pinching his side back in retaliation. “Even if I did get you an autograph, I would have shredded it after the Stormy stunt you just pulled.”

“But that’s your name,” Evan grinned.

“No, it’s what you called me for seven years because you couldn’t remember my name,” you retorted.

“No, he remembered,” Harper piped in, a grin on her face that scarily matched her brother’s. “But with a temper like yours, Stormy just fits so much better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You both suck and so does Charles Leclerc.”

“At least wait until dessert before you start insulting Evan’s boyfriend in front of him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

…

You had expected that was the last time your path would ever cross with Charles Leclerc and, for the most part, it was.

A few days passed and other than some awkward shared glances in the dining hall, you hadn’t found yourself caught in a conversation with the Ferrari driver after his attempted apology and you were intending to keep it that way until the end of your trip. You were happy to continue on with your holiday, even if you swore you could feel a pair of eyes watching you sometimes.

However, it seemed like the universe was on a mission to get your hopes up before crumbling them back down again—and this time, it was in the form of another involuntary meeting with the Monegasque.

You hadn’t even noticed the boy standing a few feet away from you with a group of his friends. You were stood next to Harper, listening to her ramble away as you waited in line for the ski lift to take you to the top of the mountain. It was fairly early, most of the resort residents still enjoying their breakfast inside which meant the queue wasn’t very long. You had been eager to get out on the snow early after being one of the last in the passing days.

However, whilst you failed to notice the driver, it seemed like Harper had.

She watched the boy continuously glance over at you, like he was eager to catch your eye. She watched as he slowly shuffled closer, like he was trying to gain the confidence to jump into the conversation. She watched Charles Leclerc act like a hopeless fool, and it was somewhat endearing to witness.

And maybe—just maybe—she was in the mood for some drama that the vacation in the ski resort very rarely gave her.

You were already settled in your spot when you felt someone shuffling in the seat next to you. You felt the comfort bar come down and you turned with a smile, ready to continue your conversation with your best friend when you realised your best friend was not the person sitting next to you.

No, it was Charles Leclerc.

Your head whirled around, finding Harper standing in the queue with a grin on her face. You shot her a look, one that spoke more than a thousand words on just how you felt about her betrayal. However, the girl just laughed and waved you off as the lift began moving and it was far too late to get off.

Your attention shifted to the boy beside you again, noticing the sheepish expression on his face and you let out a sigh.

It was fine. Totally fine. The ski lift took around ten minutes to get to the top of the mountain. That was hardly anything, practically a blink of an eye if you were being honest. It would be a quick ride up, you wouldn’t even have to talk to him and you could easily ignore him by the time you made your way back down the mountain. It was all going to be so, so fine.

“So, uh, how are you this morning?”

And suddenly, even a second felt like ten years passing.

You kept your head facing forward, hoping the boy would catch the hint that you weren’t interested in small talk and would also remain silent. Though, considering the fact he was fidgeting in his seat, you doubted the boy could keep quiet for longer than thirty seconds.

“The weather is great, right?”

Your brows furrowed together. The weather? Really?

“The pancakes were also really good at breakfast this morning. Did you have any?” He continued, only pausing for a moment when he realised you were making a point of not answering him. “Stormy?”

One simple word and that was enough for you to break your silence.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, a little harsher than you truly intended but the sentiment remained.

Charles blinked. “You don’t want me to call you your name?”

“It’s not my name,” you replied.

He blinked again. “But in the dining hall—”

“It’s a nickname—one that Evan likes to wind me up with because he thinks I’m moody,” you explained before realising the boy didn’t really deserve an explanation. Not when you were adamant to keep this conversation short. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, I can see where he gets it from,” Charles said with a small snort.

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

Seeming to realise what he said and just how it sounded out loud, it was almost comical to watch Charles’ lips part before he awkwardly gaped at his previous comment. “Not like that! I just meant—”

“Whatever,” you muttered as you turned to face forwards again, pleading for the lift to somehow reach the top of the mountain already.

“Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I intended this to go,” Charles admitted, almost sounding a bit pained when he said it, as though he wasn’t used to admitting he was wrong. “I wanted to properly apologise. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you, and I definitely shouldn’t have brushed it off as anything except how you felt.”

You paused, brows furrowing together as you turned to face him with a curious expression.

Charles blinked. “What?”

“I was just waiting to see if there was a ‘but’ coming,” you confessed.

“No buts,” he assured, pausing for a moment before his cheeks burned pink. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s it.”

You let out a sigh, wishing that some part of you was suspicious about his apology but you weren’t. He sounded genuine, and as much as you wanted to—and still partially did—believe he was a bit of a pompous prick, you couldn’t fault that his apology seemed sincere.

“I accept your apology,” you said, your voice a little strained before you continued. “And I’m also sorry for being a bit of a bitch.”

Charles’ lips parted. “Oh no, you weren’t—”

“I was a little,” you said, your lips twitching upwards as the boy gave you a nervous smile. “I can assure you I won’t be telling any gossip pages about what an asshole Charles Leclerc is.”

He actually laughed in response, despite the fact that alone would probably make his PR team bury him six feet under before the next season started. “I appreciate that, Stormy.”

You glowered at the nickname, but it only seemed to make the Monegasque laugh harder.

…

Despite the exchange of apologies on the ski lift, you expected that to be your last proper interaction with Charles.

You were also quickly realising that every time—so far—you had assumed as much, you would find yourself face to face with the driver once again. And this time was no different, except it came much earlier than a few days. It happened later that very same day.

You had made your way into the dining hall, grabbing a plate and beginning to survey the large buffet when you felt the warmth of another person standing beside you. You felt a hand brush your arm and turned to find Charles smiling at you.

“Bonjour, mon ami.”

You blinked. “What?”

His smile widened. “It means—”

“No, I know what it means,” you quickly corrected, shaking your head a little. “I just…didn’t realise we were friends.”

Charles’ brows furrowed together. “Why wouldn’t we be? I thought we had made up on the ski lift.”

“Yes but, other than that, we are strangers,” you said to him like it was obvious—and to you, it was. Beyond a few misunderstandings and awkward apologies, the man in front of you was as much a friend to you as any of the other guests in the lodge.

“Well, we can change that now!” He said, and that smile returned to his face. “Turn over a new book or whatever the saying is.”

Much to your own surprise, you found yourself laughing a little at his response. “Charles, I—”

“STORMY, HURRY UP OR I AM DRINKING YOUR WINE!”

Both your and Charles’ head snapped over to Evan who was holding a wine glass in each hand, a large smile plastered on his face and a twinkle in his eyes that promised mischief. His hair was still wet from the shower he took before dinner, meaning it was slick back and giving him an almost wannabe Bond villain look.

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to look at the driver. Only you found Charles still looking in Evan’s direction, something contemplative and almost begrudging in his gaze.

“You okay?”

Charles turned to face you, and it took a mere second for the glare to disappear and be replaced with his bright smile once again. “Yeah, of course. It seems like you’re wanted elsewhere though.”

“He’s a menace,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes but the fondness was clear in your voice. “I love him even if he’s a pain in the ass.”

Charles only let out a contemplative hum as a goodbye as you headed towards the table where your family and the Montgomery’s were sitting. And maybe if you looked over at him as much as he did with you over the course of the dinner, you would have seen Charles looking a little too bitter every time your eyes were on Evan instead of him.

…

A week had passed in the resort and the Christmas spirit was starting to truly spread as the festive holiday quickly approached.

Your parents and the Montgomery parents had decided to pass on the slopes, instead choosing to visit infamous glacier caves that had been advertised and talked about by some locals in the lodge. You, Harper and Evan had declined the offer to join them, though the excitement of no parents being around—despite the fact all three of you were firmly in your twenties—seemed to spark a shift in energy in Evan that could only be described as childlike.

“I have a proposition.”

Harper already let out a groan, tilting her head back as she did. You couldn’t see her eyes beneath her goggles, but you imagined she was rolling them. “God, no.”

Evan frowned. “You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“Your ideas are shit,” Harper said to her brother. “And usually dangerous.”

“No, they aren’t,” Evan scoffed.

You shrugged. “You don’t have a great track record, if we are being honest.”

“Whatever,” Evan grumbled before grinning at the two of you. “First two to reach the bottom wins. Sabotaging each other’s run is allowed. Loser has to do the forfeit.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What’s the forfeit?”

“Loser has to streak in the snow,” he grinned.

“I am not streaking in the snow,” Harper scoffed.

“Then, you better hope you win,” the older Montgomery countered with a grin.

And begrudgingly, you and Harper agreed to his childish idea.

It wasn’t the first time a silly competition between the three of you got out of hand, and you truly doubted it would be the last. With no rules set and no parents to even try to intervene, it didn’t take very long before the competition got dirty and the run down the slopes became more chaotic.

You had been running behind Harper, secure in second place and watching her movements closely to look for any weakness that you could exploit. However, you had failed to realise that Evan—who had been running behind after he almost skied into a group of people—was quickly catching up on you.

You didn't realise until it was too late.

You let out a noise of surprise when you found the boy right by your side, one that quickly became a series of curses when you realised what he was doing. You tried to move away when you noticed him turning into you, but you were too slow and it only put you in a worse position when his pole lodged itself between your skis.

He was long gone by the time you tumbled into the snow, cackling loudly as he went. You let out a groan of frustration as you turned until you were lying on your back. You winced a little as you tried to awkwardly scramble up onto your feet in hopes of catching up with the Montgomery siblings, but the second a bit of pressure was placed on your ankle, you were crying out in pain and your ass hit the snow once again.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you sat in the snow, tears welling in your lash line at the shot of pain up your leg.

“Cherie!”

You lifted your head when you noticed someone skidding to a stop beside you. You blinked at them in a moment of confusion, but the second they removed their goggles and pulled down their mask, you found Charles—or at least, a very worried and concerned version of him—looking down at you.

He took you in, noticing the glossy sheen to your eyes before he turned back to look over his shoulder, letting out a string of curse words that you were certain were not in English before his attention returned to you.

“Are you okay? What hurts? Is something broken? Should I call for them to send a helicopter—”

“Charles,” you quickly interrupted the rambling boy. “I’m fine. I’ve probably just sprained my ankle.”

“Yeah, because of him,” Charles grumbled, mostly under his breath like he had no real intention for you to hear the snide remark.

“It was a joke,” you waved him off, but that only seemed to upset the boy further.

“A joke?” He repeated, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You’re hurt. It’s hardly a funny joke.”

“Charles, calm down.”

The boy just scoffed, shaking his head before he lodged his poles into the snow, keeping them off the main trail before he turned to you and offered his hand.

You looked at him expectantly.

“Let me help you get down to the lodge,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“Charles—” You began, but he wasn’t having it.

“No, cherie, I am not going to leave you here when you’re injured and alone,” he said, emphasising the last word in particular as he glanced around, almost like he had to remind you that Harper and Evan were most likely at the bottom of the slope by now.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, taking his gloved hand in yours as you allowed him to pull you up, keeping your weight on him with ease. “This doesn’t mean we are friends though, Charles.”

He only grinned at you, the first time he seemed a little more like himself since he stopped to check on you.

“Whatever you want to say, Stormy.”

…

As expected, you had sprained your ankle and were advised to take it easy for the next few days.

And you were banned from hitting the slopes in fear of making the sprain worse.

You wanted to be annoyed about the situation—and a small part of you was—but honestly, a few days in the lodge with some peace and quiet seemed like a dream. As much as you loved your family and the Montgomery’s, you needed a break from how loud and giddy and excited they were.

And as the days quickly approached Christmas, it felt like a nice relief to have some time to yourself before the festivities truly took over.

You had waved them off after breakfast with a smile, teasing them not to miss you too much as they headed towards the slopes. Evan had offered to stay inside with you, even just for today, because of the guilt that he was the one to put you in the position. But you just rolled your eyes, assuring him you were more than happy to sit by the fireplace by the foyer and enjoy a day where you didn’t have to fall flat on your ass in the snow.

You had been a few chapters into your book, curled up on the couch with your ankle elevated on a pillow with a blanket thrown over you when Charles and his friends made their way downstairs, prepped and ready with the intentions of heading out to the slopes.

But the boy spotted you and found his feet moving in a different direction.

“Stormy!”

You lifted your head, unable to even find it in yourself to be annoyed by his constant use of the nickname when he had a pretty smile on his face whenever he said it. He was bundled up in layers, probably on his way to the equipment kiosk before he headed for the lift. He looked comical next to the fire.

“My knight in shining armour,” you greeted, a teasing tilt in your voice but the boy missed it as he took in your appearance. “You look warm.”

“You’re staying in today?”

You nodded. “Doc’s orders.”

“Alone?”

You nodded once again. “I told the others they could—”

“I’ll stay with you!”

He said it so quickly that it took you a few seconds before you realised just what he had said. You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “You’re at a ski resort and you don’t want to go skiing?”

“I’ve been skiing every day since I got here,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I can handle not skiing for a day.”

You flashed him a smile. “It’s fine, you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” he countered, the words passing his lips with ease.

You hated the way your chest tightened a little at his words. “Oh.”

Charles smiled at your response.

“Charles, hurry up!”

You missed the way his brows furrowed together at the voice when you turned to look at the woman standing a few feet away, looking impatient and slightly annoyed. It was the same woman from the other week, the one that looked a little too much like the cold weather personified. You had learnt over the passing days her name was Melanie, but that was about as far as your knowledge on the woman went, other than her clear attitude.

Charles let out a sigh before he replied, a slightly more strained smile on his face. “Go on without me. I’m gonna stay in the lodge today.”

Melanie frowned. “Why?”

“Because I want to,” Charles stated simply, and the repeated words made your chest feel funny again.

Melanie glanced over at you and then Charles, and then back to you again. Her eyes were narrowed and her glare felt icy, but before she could even think of saying anything, a friend from the group was calling out to her and she had no choice but to join them.

Charles turned back to you, an easy smile on his lips once again. “So…what’s the plan?”

You snorted. “To sit here because I’m practically bedbound, unless I want to hobble somewhere.”

Charles pressed his lips together. “Well, sitting by the fire with no hot chocolate is sacrilege.”

Your nose scrunched up. “But I don’t have cookies. Hot chocolate by itself isn’t fun without homemade Christmas cookies.”

“Then we will make them,” Charles said.

You rolled your eyes. “And where are we making them? In our rooms with a kettle, tap water and no other ingredients?”

“Please,” Charles said with a scoff, a glint in his eyes as he looked down at you with a proud glint in his eyes. “I am Charles Leclerc. I have my ways.”

You weren’t sure what strings he pulled, who he bribed or just what he blackmailed the lodge owners with, but you were filled with a sort of unease when Charles returned twenty minutes later. He had changed out of his heavy ski gear into a pair of jeans and a sweater that looked insanely cosy. And he had told you that he needed you to close your eyes, to trust him enough to carry you to the destination with a promise that all the drama would be worth it.

He looked so damn proud when he brought you to the lodge’s kitchen with bowls and whisks and ingredients sprawled across the counter—it made that funny feeling in your chest return.

“How did you manage this?” You asked, an incredulous laugh leaving your lips when he sat you on the counter.

“I’m Charles Leclerc, I can get anything I want,” he said, and once upon a time, you would have rolled your eyes and thought he was a pompous dick. You still thought he was a little cocky, but it was an endearing trait now.

You raised your brows. “Do you, Charles Leclerc, know how to bake?”

“Nope,” he said honestly but he was still smiling. “But I am sure I can make something edible with you guiding me.”

“Smooth,” you snorted. “Don’t blame me if they taste like shit.”

As it would turn out, Charles had an overbearing need to be in control of everything. You guessed it came with the lifestyle, the fact his life is always in the palm of his own hands whenever he sat in a car that raced hundreds of miles an hour. However, it seemed like it also extended to the Monegasque ignoring your very clear and correct instructions to do something he insisted was the right way.

“In what fucking world do you need that much sugar?” You remarked, lips parted in shock as you watched the boy add more.

“They are sugar cookies, cherie, it’s in the name,” Charles retorted.

“That doesn’t mean the batter should be seventy-five percent sugar!” You huffed as you reached over to try and grab the bag of sugar from him. “You are going to make us both diabetic with one of those damn cookies. Don’t you have a diet you are meant to be following?”

Charles only grinned, a little mischievous. “Yeah but it’s Christmas.”

You shook your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re bossy,” he countered.

“And I’m right,” you insisted as you frowned at the batter, wondering if it would be easier to just toss it out and start again. “It’s not my fault you don’t have the ego to handle it.”

“Or your ego can’t handle the challenge,” Charles said, something shining in his eyes like his words had a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite understand. “Tell me you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head a little. “You think you’re the only man to talk back to me, Leclerc?”

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I would like to think I’m the best.”

You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes darkened, the way it seemed to surge some sort of competition inside him. You couldn’t help but want to play on his fragile male ego a little more.

“And if I said you weren’t?” You questioned, pressing your lips together in a poor attempt to hide your smirk.

Charles breathed out of his nose, his jaw clenching a little before he replied. “Then I would say Evan is a lucky man to have you.”

And just like that, your smirk dropped.

“What?”

Charles frowned a little. “I would say Evan is a lucky man,” he repeated, the words sounding a little forced as they left his lips. “You two seem like…a great match even if he does leave you abandoned on a ski slope after—”

“Oh my god, no!” You blanched, your shoulders hunching up to your ears as you shook your head. “Ew, no! Absolutely not!”

Charles blinked. “Huh?”

“Me and Evan—” You swallowed hard, unable to even get the words out. “It’s not like that between us. I have known him forever, he’s like a brother to me.”

“Oh,” Charles murmured, taking a few seconds before he grinned. “Oh!”

“Yeah, oh,” you grumbled.

Charles couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “So, you aren’t—”

“Nope.”

“With Evan or anyone?”

“No one.”

“Good.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the giddiness written across his face. If someone told you it was Christmas morning, you would have believed them. “Subtle, Charles.”

“Subtle is my middle name.”

…

The next day, you met Charles by the foyer fireplace, but this time he was prepared with his own book.

The day after, he was there again but both your books were quickly abandoned as you chatted away.

The day after that, neither of you bothered to bring your books down.

Despite your insistence that he should be out on the slopes enjoying his vacation and the downtime he had in between seasons, Charles was adamant that he was doing exactly what he deemed relaxing. And just like he said earlier, Charles Leclerc gets what he wants—and it seemed he wanted to spend his days huddled in the lodge with you.

Everyone noticed the budding relationship between you and Charles, but nobody said a word. Well, your family and the Montgomery parents didn’t say a word. Harper and Evan on the other hand? They wouldn’t leave you alone.

Harper was cackling at the irony. She was throwing your words back in your face, teasing the way seemed to switch your opinion on the Monegasque driver in the span of a week and looked down right smitten for the boy. She teased you over the fact it took you almost two months before you went on a date with your ex-boyfriend, and here you were having daily fireplace dates with the boy you called an asshole less than a week ago. She was embracing her full right as your best friend to annoy the fuck out of you.

Evan was a whole other story. The boy looked like a kicked puppy every time you came back from hanging out with Charles, only to tell him you didn’t get him an autograph nor did you bring into the conversation how cool he was or how amazing he was or how he and Charles would totally get on if you introduced them. You didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that up until seventy-two hours ago, Charles didn’t like him through a bizarre assumption.

It had been constant and annoying, but in a way that made your heart feel full because you knew no matter what, at least those two would support every decision you made. Even if they got unbearable during the meal times where Charles would find any excuse to come talk to you.

Tonight was no different as he approached you with a smile spread across his face and something dangerous and promising shining in his eyes. You were sitting at the table alone whilst everyone else headed towards the tables to fill their plates—yours in Harper’s hand—and you were grateful for the small moment of peace as he leaned down.

“Missing me already?” You teased.

He shrugged, though he didn’t disagree. “I have a very important message for you.”

You raised your brows in question. “Oh?”

Instead of saying anything, the boy just grinned wider and handed you a small piece of paper. You frowned a little at it, looking up at him in confusion but the boy was already taking a few steps away from your table.

“Charles—”

But the boy just winked before turning on his heel, heading back to the table the rest of his friends were sitting at, where they were probably watching the whole interaction even if they tried to make it seem like they weren’t.

You glanced down at the note in your hand, lips turned downwards as you opened the folded paper. It baffled you that he couldn’t just say what he had written down, but another part of you warmed a little at the idea that he had taken the time to write the note and go through with it—regardless of it being a bit silly.

You couldn’t bite back your smile when you read the note.

meet me @ midnight. my room number is 161. wear something cosy :)

You snorted, shaking your head as every cell in your body thrummed in excitement to meet the boy you once hated later that night.

…

“The note was cute, but I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just ask me to hang out.”

“Because that’s not fun.”

“You just handed me the note, that’s hardly any different.”

“It was like a real life text, cherie. It’s how they used to do it back in the day.”

You snorted in response.

You had listened to his advice, deciding that a hoodie and pyjama bottoms were the way to go as you snuck up to the floor he was staying at. Your knuckles had barely grazed the door before it was yanked open, a grinning boy on the other side. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie and grey sweatpants, his hair pushed back with a bandana and a pair of glasses sat on his nose.

He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before he was dragging you inside.

It should have been obvious that Charles Leclerc of all people would have a suite but truthfully, you hadn’t even realised the lodge had master suites as big as this one. But it did. And it was huge. And you expected nothing less for the Monegasque.

There were multiple different rooms that veered off the large living room: one that was furnished with a massive tv, soft plush sofas and a large fireplace that looked like it was straight out the front of a Christmas card. Surprisingly, it was decorated for the festive season with even a tree settled in the corner between the armchairs. It felt homely. It felt perfect for this midnight meeting.

However, you didn’t get much of a chance to look around before he was dragging you out onto the balcony. There was a loveseat set up with pillows and blankets, and a small table set with hot chocolate and a plate of cookies (ones he assured you he had the chef make fresh).

“I never took you to be so traditional,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders as a light breeze hit you. “But I guess you have to make do since you haven’t even asked for my number.”

Charles raised his brows. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to hurry up and ask for it?”

“Subtle is my middle name,” you retorted, his own repeated words thrown back in his face but they seemed to light a spark inside him.

Charles’ eyes dropped to your lips for a few passing beats before they returned to your eyes, and you saw everything written in them. This was different to the days you had spent down in the foyer. Everyone could see you both. You could see everyone. It was public and out in the open and exposed.

But here?

It was just you and him and the pretty night sky that shone and glittered with stars. You were away from the world, from reality. You were away from your family and friends. You were away from peering eyes and judgemental looks. You were in a bubble you never wanted to leave, huddled in thick wool blankets and desperately hoping he would close the minimal distance between you both.

His lips were a hairbreadth away from brushing against yours when another breeze caressed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that momentarily jolted you away from him.

“You’re cold,” he noted, though it was pretty obvious when you two were both outside in minimal layers. “Let’s get inside. We can warm up by the fire.”

And a part of you wanted to scream off the balcony into the French Mountains when he stood up, when the moment broke and his lips weren’t against yours. But as angry as you wanted to be, you were grateful when he guided you to sit in front of the fire as he added more wood to the dying embers.

His thigh was brushing against yours when he settled into the spot beside you on the floor, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold as he grinned at you before holding his hands out to the fire. You laughed, following suit and the conversation from moments before the almost-kiss returned.

However, minutes passed and your body was still racked with small shivers that Charles quickly picked up on.

“C’mere,” he murmured as he lifted his arm, giving you little time to dispute (not that you were going to) as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you into his side.

You didn’t think about it too much as you buried yourself into his embrace, as you pressed your cheek into his hoodie and enjoyed the way his hand seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever he touched.

“If I get hypothermia and die, I’m coming back to haunt you and your sugar cookies,” you grumbled, though it was lighthearted as you pressed your nose further into the fabric of his hoodie.

His chest shook underneath you as he laughed and tightened his hold on you. “I would never let anything happen to you, Stormy.”

“You and that stupid nickname,” you said as you let out a long sigh. “You know my actual name now. You have no excuse to use it.”

“Yeah, but it suits you,” Charles retorted, letting out a small noise of surprise when your cold fingers pinched his side. “Plus, you get this…uh, what’s the word…cute look on your face when you’re angry.”

Your head snapped up to glare at him. “I don’t look cute when I’m angry.”

His face brightened. “Yes! That face! C’est mignon!"

Your eyes narrowed further. “Don’t pull the cute French card, it’s not gonna help you.”

“You think my French is cute?” Charles replied, his laugh echoing through the suite as you rolled your eyes.

“You drivers and your egos,” you grumbled.

“Have a lot of experience with drivers?” Charles questioned, a hint of something unreadable in his voice.

You snorted, both of you knowing the answer to that question but you played along. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “What about kissing them?”

And just like that, Charles Leclerc had left you speechless for what felt like the millionth time since you met him.

His gaze was locked on your lips, the crackling of the fire felt like it was booming through the silent room and you were truly wondering if your heart was going to burst through your chest and splat on the floor in front of you both.

“I can’t say I have much experience in that department,” you admitted once you managed to choke your words out.

His lips twitched upwards. “Would you like some experience, Stormy?”

You didn’t know if you nodded or if he just took the signs of your flustered, stuttering mess and took mercy on you. You didn’t know if his hand reached to cup your face first or if it was your hand on the nape of his neck instead. You didn’t know if it was you moaning lowly into the kiss when his tongue darted out or if it was him.

Kissing Charles Leclerc was overwhelming and world-altering and, truthfully, you didn’t think you could even utter your own name if someone asked you at that moment.

“Merde,” he groaned before he kissed you harder, faster, more passionately. His other hand reached for your waist, those muscles hidden under his baggy hoodie put to good use as he hauled you onto his lap.

Your knees sat on either side of his hips, your ass firmly planted on his lap as the new position allowed you to fully wrap your arms around his neck. The boy’s hands dropped to your waist, squeezing and guiding as your hips shifted in his lap as his kisses left you seeking anything he would give you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted when he had to pull away, when his lungs were burning for air. But you still wanted more, you sought out to keep hearing those pretty noises he made as your lips trailed down his neck. “So fucking long.”

“You took your time,” you muttered between open-mouthed kisses when his hold tightened as your lips passed a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear.

“You hated me for a majority of the time we’ve known each other,” he managed to utter out, his head falling back as your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“Does it look like I hate you now?” You retorted, something about the back and forth feeling as thrilling and exciting as his fingers fiddling with the hem of your hoodie.

Charles’ eyes caught yours as you lifted your head from his neck, lips red and swollen and fuck, he wanted to kiss you again. “I think I need a little more convincing.”

“Yeah?” You watched as he nodded, a little too eager but it made your stomach twist in the best way possible. “Well, you did promise to keep me warm.”

“I did,” he murmured, his voice a little rough and husky.

“Warm me up, Leclerc,” you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands squeezing your waist before your lips even touched. “And then I’ll decide if I hate you still.”

A choked noise of surprise left your lips when Charles suddenly moved. You were no longer sitting on his lap, but instead had been laid back on the floor with the boy now hovering over you. He flashed you a smile, one twisted with promises that made your chest feel tight.

You waited for him to lean down and kiss you again. You waited to feel his heated touch on your body. You waited for him to finally slide his hands under the fabric of your hoodie, to feel his fingers along your bare skin.

But instead, he just looked at you with so much fondness in his eyes.

“What?” You questioned, and suddenly the idea of being naked underneath him was no longer the most exposed you felt.

“Nothing,” he said simply as he shook his head. “Just…wanted to make sure.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Of what?”

“That you’re okay with this,” Charles said as he finally lifted his hand, as he let his fingers brush across the apple of your cheek. You could feel your skin heating up underneath his touch. “I want you to know that I’m happy to just talk. I don’t want you to think I just invited you here to—”

“Charles,” you interrupted, and the boy fell quiet as his cheeks flushed pink. “I want to.”

He tried to bite back his smile. “Yeah?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah.”

And despite the reassurance and despite the heat in your body that just wanted to throw your legs over the boy and ride him until the sun came up, Charles Leclerc was nothing, if not a gentleman. And something about that made it so much hotter.

His touch was always so confident but gentle. The way his lips pressed against yours, the way his tongue caressed yours as his fingers slowly peeled away the layers of clothes between the two of you. The way he paused to set down pillows and a blanket to make it comfier for you before his fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and discarding them someplace else.

The way you reached down to cup his bulge in his boxers, prepared to slip your hand beneath the elastic of his boxers and stroke the length of him—only to have your hands batted away. You barely got a chance to question him before his kisses silenced you, before they began moving south and you felt his lips on every inch of your exposed skin that he could reach.

You felt breathless by the time he was between your legs. You felt like your head was spinning with pleasure as he hooked his arms around your thighs and happily settled between them. You felt like you were in some sugar cookie induced dream as you glanced down, catching his eager eyes watching every little move and reaction you made.

The fire was roaring a few feet away, loud and proud and yet, it was his touch and whispered words that made your whole body feel like lava was coursing through your veins. It was the way his tongue swiped and licked your needy pussy, the way his lips wrapped around your clit until your back was arching off the ground. It was the way Charles murmured soft praises as his hands reached out for yours, as he intertwined your fingers and softly squeezed as you came on his tongue once, twice until you felt like a pile of bones.

It was the way he smiled down at you like his face wasn’t glistening with your release. The way he leaned down to kiss you with the taste of yourself still on his tongue. It was the way he was fully prepared to leave it there, let you rest, spend the rest of the night listening to the random rants he could coax out of you.

Charles only let out a surprised noise when you pushed him onto his back, as you straddled him like you fantasised about earlier and reached between your bodies to squeeze his aching cock.

You knew Charles Leclerc was pretty, even in the days where you thought you despised the man. It was an undeniable fact that he was easy on the eyes, that he was gorgeous, that he had one of those faces that didn’t make him feel like he was a real human.

But he was undoubtedly prettier when you were sinking down on his cock, walls squeezing him as his lips parted to let out a string of curse words in a handful of languages you didn’t speak.

His hands were all over you, his lips never stopped moving and all it took was a slight lapse in your tempo as you rocked back and forth for the boy to grip your hips, hold you up with ease and fuck up into you.

You were a puddle on his chest, his lips right beside your ear as he whispered filthy words to you. His hands and kisses were gentle when it felt like you could feel his cock in your throat from how deep inside he was. Charles Leclerc was a fucking enigma that you didn’t ever want to work out.

And even after he did most of the work, even after he was breathless and flushed and fucked out, you were still the first thing on his mind. Your comfort, your pleasure, just you.

“Cherie,” he murmured softly, the accent seeming a little thicker as he spoke. “We should move to the bed.”

“No,” your words muffled as you nuzzled yourself further into his chest, content where you were with your legs tangled together and your naked bodies pressed together. “I’m comfy here. Beside you.”

“Okay,” was all he said in response as he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head and pulled the blanket over the both of you before holding you closer—if that was even possible.

…

The first thing you noted when you woke up was how comfortable the ground felt beneath you.

The second thing was that you were no longer on the floor, but on a very comfy bed with a mattress that felt like it was a cloud.

Your hand blindly reached out to your side, expecting to feel a solid, warm body and probably a disgruntled curse from a certain Monegasque, but it never came. Your brows furrowed together, your hand continuing to pat the bed but it felt cold under your touch.

For a short moment, you wondered if you had dreamt it all. You wondered if it was just a hyper-realistic dream where you swore you could still feel his touch on you, if it was all a part of your imagination.

And then, from the other side of the door, you heard a voice.

Your lips unknowingly tilted upwards as you sat up in bed, the sheet falling to your waist as you did. You stretched out your limbs, moving with no real rush as you grabbed the first piece of clothing you could find—a shirt of Charles’ that rested at your thighs—before making your way towards the door.

You pushed the door open, expecting to find him lounging on the couch as he talked away to whoever he was on the phone with, but he wasn’t. You leaned your head out, peeking around to instead finding him on the balcony, the door still open to let his voice and a chilly breeze carry through into the suite.

You contemplated bracing the cold and making your way towards the balcony, to wrap your arms around his waist and settle into the warmth of him as he finished his call. Your hand moved to pull the door open wider, but then the muffled voice became actual words and you froze.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. She never has. Why should I care now?”

You frowned a little.

“I was doing her a favour, for no other reason.”

Your stomach churned, but you tried to ease your thoughts that were threatening to spiral.

“I’m not going to ever see her again after this trip, what’s the big deal anyways?”

But that? That was your final straw.

You felt sick to your stomach as you rushed around the room, staying as silent as you could as you redressed yourself. Your head felt like it was spinning, like you couldn’t even keep up with your own thoughts. You wanted to feel angry and spiteful, and maybe you did.

But most of all, you just felt disappointed.

In yourself. In the situation. In the man you thought Charles Leclerc was.

You were fighting down the bile that felt like it was rising up your throat when you finally slipped out of his suite. He was still on the phone, still on the balcony when you left. And he probably wouldn’t even realise you were gone until you were safely back in your own room, where you could let everything hit you at once and let the tears threatening to spill finally fall.

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe he was that kind of guy, another asshole that you had laid yourself out in front of, only for it to be thrown back in your face. You wanted to believe he was the gentleman you saw, touched and kissed last night.

But the truth of the matter was that Charles Leclerc was just another name on your list of men who disappointed you, and you didn’t want to see his stupid, perfect face ever again.

…

Charles was absolutely fucking baffled.

He felt like he was missing a key bit of information in his own life, and no matter how many times he replayed the last week or so in his head, he couldn’t work out what he was doing wrong.

After a season of disappointing races and a team that played with his strategy like a fucking water balloon being thrown around by a group of toddlers, Charles wanted an escape. He wanted a place away from journalists and fans and everyone who even knew who he was. He just wanted a break from his own life.

The vacation at The Chalet was meant to just be that, but it became so much more.

For the first time in a long time, Charles felt like himself again. He felt happy. He was excited for the new year, he was excited for the future, he was excited for what possibly lay ahead of him. He felt like he was in some dream, but it wasn’t a dream. It was his reality and he woke up every day eager to know what amazing thing would happen to him—to know what amazing day he would have with you.

But that dream seemed to crumble into pieces when he realised you were ignoring him.

He didn’t try to take it too personally when he headed back into the bedroom that morning, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold weather but eager to spend a few lazy hours with you in between the sheets. He was eager to make you smile and maybe kiss you, maybe do something more.

But disappointment hit his chest when he saw the empty room.

He just assured himself that you probably had to head back to your room before your family and friends woke up, or maybe you wanted to freshen up. He assured himself he would see you at breakfast and everything would be fine.

But it wasn’t fine because you weren’t at breakfast. He waited in case you came at the end, but you didn’t.

He waited for you at the usual spot in the foyer, but you never came.

He waited for you at lunch and dinner too, but you never came.

The next day, he almost expected the same and was preparing himself to ask one of your friends if you were okay, but he was shocked to find you sitting in your usual place at breakfast. He smiled at you, something in his chest easing as he made a step in your direction, but the dirty glare you sent his way was enough to make him stop in his tracks.

You didn’t turn up to the foyer that day either but between the dirty looks from you and the fact he was pretty sure Harper tried to trip him up at the coffee stand, he knew something was wrong.

He just didn’t know what.

And every time he tried to get near you, tried to talk to you, it was a pathetically failed attempt that left that competitive streak inside his chest blaring with annoyance.

You were ignoring him and he didn’t know why.

And then he saw it, three days after you started ignoring him. He was making his way into the dining hall, having just showered after a day in the slopes his friends dragged him out for, when he saw you and Evan by the buffet.

Your eyes found his and something in his chest sparked.

And then his eyes fell to the way your hand rested on Evan’s arm, the way you leaned into him as you laughed, the way Evan’s arm was thrown over your shoulder as you both walked back to your table. He watched as you both sat next to each other, so close your thighs were probably pressed together under the table and something bitter settled in his stomach.

He knew he had no real reason to be jealous. Especially between the fact that you yourself had assured him everything between you and Evan was platonic (if not familial) and the fact there was no real talk of anything being between you and himself other than a shitload of chemistry.

But even logic didn’t stop the jealousy he felt.

His appetite was gone after that, as he turned around and headed back to his suite that felt a little bittersweet after the amazing night and shit morning he had with you. But he wasn’t in the mood to eat or pine for you from a distance.

Charles was sick and tired of you ignoring him, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

And the first step in his plan had everything to do with the blond you were currently laughing and touching. He just needed to get Evan alone.

…

It was Christmas Eve when Charles’ plan finally reached its final step—to finally talk to you.

It felt like an odd sense of deja vu when you woke up that morning, making your way down for breakfast before you got ready for the slopes that day. You thought nothing off the weird looks Evan was giving you or the way he seemed giddier than usual, because truthfully it was no different to how Evan usually was on Christmas Eve.

You put down his eagerness to head towards the slopes under the assumption he probably had some weird challenge for you and Harper at the top. You just hoped this one wouldn’t result in another sprained ankle.

“I’m riding with you today, Stormy,” Evan said as the three of you headed towards the ski lift.

“Uh, get in line, loser,” Harper spoke up as she stood on the other side of you. “I called dibs.”

Evan narrowed his eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I did just now,” Harper retorted.

“Does it really matter?” You questioned, amused as you glanced between the two of them.

“Yes!”

“No!”

Harper and Evan turned to glare at each other, confusion from one of them and insistence from the other. However, you just laughed and shook your head.

“Fine, first one to the lift wins!”

You were already settled in the lift as you heard the two of them bickering to each other. You waited to see which one would win, to see who would settle in the spot next to you. However, what you failed to notice was the way Evan all but threw himself on top of his sister so she couldn’t reach the lift before someone else did.

You turned, a smile on your face as you waited to greet the winning Montgomery, but instead you found yourself staring at a painfully familiar set of green eyes.

And in an instant, your smile dropped at the sight of Charles Leclerc sitting next to you.

But before you could even think about jumping off the lift and taking the next seat, the lift was already too high up for you to do anything about it.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he said to break the silence.

But you didn’t respond.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me but at least hear me out,” Charles continued, a hint of desperation in his voice. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

You kept your gaze facing forward.

“Evan told me what you thought happened that morning.”

And just like that, your head snapped around to stare at him, a mix of emotions going through you right now—though the biggest was possibly Evan’s betrayal.

“You weren’t lying when you said he was a big fan,” he said with a nervous laugh. “It didn’t actually take much for him to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

“You used my friend?” You questioned, the bitterness and coldness in your voice evident.

“I asked and he gave me information,” Charles corrected before his shoulders sagged a bit. “Look, don’t blame him. He heard what I had to say and—”

“And I don’t care what you have to say so go talk to Evan about it,” you spat back at him, watching the way he winced at your words.

“Cherie—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Stormy—”

“And definitely don’t call me that.”

“Please,” Charles pleaded as he looked at you with wide eyes, ones that held so many emotions you did not want to see. “That phone call was not what you think.”

You looked away at the mention of the phone call, something quite like anger and disgust bubbling inside you at the mere reminder of the words you heard that morning. “Just…stop it, Charles. I don’t care, okay? You go about your life and I’ll go about mine.”

“No,” he stated simply.

You scoffed. “What? You need another girl in another city to have fawning over you? The hundreds of others not enough?”

“No, because I am not interested in my life not having you in it. I am not interested in a hundred other girls.” The words were stated like they were facts. “Stormy, I just want you.”

You scoffed again but a hand tugging yours made you look over at Charles, fully prepared to pull your hand away.

“I wasn’t talking about you on the phone that morning,” Charles quickly blurted out before you had a chance to say anything. “Everything you heard on the phone that morning, it wasn’t about you.”

You blinked.

“It was about Melanie.”

Your brows furrowed together, a crease forming between them that Charles had the urge to smooth out with his thumb, but he resisted.

“What?”

“She—” Charles paused for a moment, like he was trying to gather the correct words. “She’s not my friend, not really.”

You blinked again. “She’s not? But she acts—”

“She acts like we are, yes. She’s a friend of a friend, and that’s about all there is to her. She’s…uh, how do you say? She seems to have gained a crush on me? Or maybe it’s some weird obsession. I’m not quite sure,” Charles admitted with a frown. “She asked me out once, almost a year ago and I declined. But she has latched onto the group ever since and I couldn’t quite shake her off.”

You didn’t say anything, instead letting him continue.

“She wasn’t even meant to be on this trip,” Charles confessed. “But she said to our mutual friend that she was alone this Christmas and…I just couldn’t say no, right? But she’s spent the last year acting like I didn’t reject her and I didn’t like the idea of being trapped up here with her. But even with all our other friends, she was always beside me. She was always there. And when she started to throw tantrums to our friends and make up stories after I started spending time with you, I had enough.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock.

“Turns out she told all our friends that we were together,” Charles said with a grimace. “That we wanted to keep it a secret from the media, and that meant I wanted to keep it from everyone. She tried to make it out like I was a monster to our friends when I started spending days with you. Thankfully, none of them believed a word she said but…it was just too much.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why you heard me ranting on the phone about not seeing her after this trip because I have no plans to be around her ever again and I made that clear to my friends. You can even ask them if you don’t believe me,” Charles said as he finally let out a long breath. He looked at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I would never say those things about you. Not when you might just be the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your cheeks burned. “Charles—”

“I know you feel it too,” he continued, and that desperate note to his voice returned. “I know you’ve felt it all week. I know you felt it that night. I know you feel like this—us—could be something.”

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered, closing your eyes as you realised the agonsing and the pain and the ignoring over the last few days could have been avoided if you stayed in the bedroom a little longer that morning. Or if you had just spoken to him instead of letting the pettiness take over.

“You had no reason to think otherwise about me, cherie, and I get that,” Charles said as he squeezed your hand, almost like a tester to see if you would pull away or not. But you didn’t. “But I want to change that. I want to explore this. I want to show you that I would never do that to you. I want to give you reasons to trust me.”

“I would like that,” you murmured in a soft voice, but Charles heard you loud and clear as he grinned at you.

“Yeah? You don’t hate me still?” He questioned.

You laughed, shaking your head as you did. “I don’t think I ever hated you, Charles.”

“Good, it makes this easier then,” he said before he leaned in, his slightly chapped lips pressed against yours—and something about it felt like coming home.

You sunk into his embrace, your hand coming up to cup his cheek like you needed to believe he was really there (even if the gloves made it a little awkward). But feeling him smile against your lips was assurance enough.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Charles.”

“Merry Christmas Eve, Stormy. I hope it’s one of many with you.”

And maybe Charles Leclerc became another one of the many reasons you loved The Chalet.

1K notes · View notes

httpsryu · 5 months

Text

the cc; campus crush

pairing: kim minjeong x fem! reader

summary: kim minjeong feels her heart rush at the sight of the cold-hearted rich girl

category: enemies-to-lovers(in minjeong's head)

genre: very very slight angst, fluff at the end

warnings: y/n is kind of mean (ITS IN HER BLOOD)

Hong Y/N, the youngest daughter of one of the richest conglomerate family, a real life nepo baby whose life has been granted since the day of her birth.

Much like her old sister; Hong Haein, Y/N is known for her cold-stoned face and cold-hearted soul. No one dares to even step in front of the pretty female.

Kim Minjeong on the other hand, oh how she wishes she was able to run into the raven-haired student that roams the campus.

"Isn't it crazy how I only saw her walk by once and I never saw her ever again?" Minjeong rants to her best friends while reading a news article about Y/N and the recent collaboration with YSL.

Jimin looks up from the medicine book, pushing her glasses up. "Well, you two may have different schedules."

"Or, she's only here once in a while?" Aeri assumes. "Like look at her family, college is probably like a hobby to her."

How could college be a hobby when the love of her life is sitting right here in the library.

"Her shoe game always kill." Yizhou scrolls through Y/N's Instagram and looking at the high heels in each post with envy. "You better get on that before some other man does."

Aeri laughs at Yizhou's words and for her friend to have so much hope in the latter. "That's if you ever see her again gracing these college floors."

Minjeong could only grumble under her breath, throwing a rolled up straw wrapper at Aeri. "At least have faith in me, yeah?"

"I have faith in you." Jimin says, raising her hand in support of her friend which earns a smile from the puppy-like female.

Minjeong stretches her arms, letting out a noise in content of how the stretch felt before throwing all her books and notebooks in her bag.

"Going home already?" Yizhou pouts, not wanting the other to leave. "But who will I bother now?"

The short haired rolls her eyes at her friend before pointing at the Japanese and getting out of the chair she's been in for 4 hours. "You can bother her, she's not even doing anything besides watching that dumb rom-com."

"Will we see you in tomorrow's morning lecture or you're skipping again?" Jimin asks, eyes still focusing on the materials written down in the medicine book. "Just wondering if I'll need to bring four or three cups of coffee."

Minjeong contemplates for a second. "I'll show up."

"Okay! See you tomorrow."

For some strange reason, Minjeong will score high on exams yet her overall class grade drops because of lame professors counting attendance, the short-haired has no choice but to start showing up again.

With a hum in response, Minjeong slings her bag around her shoulders as she turns towards the door of the library. She looks down on her phone, checking for any important emails from any professors.

"OW!" A voice gets the short-haired's attention off her phone. "Could you at least watch where you're going?"

OH MY GOD?

Hong Y/N, the girl of Minjeong's dreams.

You pat off your clothes, afraid of dust flying onto your cropped blazer that you JUST got yesterday while shopping with your sister and brother-in-law.

The short-haired is caught in a trance at how beautiful your voice sounds. With a pretty face of yours and a music-like tone of a voice, she doesn't mind dealing with that cold-heart of yours.

"You're not going to apologize or anything?" You ask, glaring at the female in front of you.

Right.

"My bad, I got distracted." Minjeong nervously giggles, not that she's afraid of you but because you're standing in front of her. "I'm sorry for not watching my direction. If you want, I can pay for your clothes if anything is wrong with them."

If Yizhou was here, she would laugh in Minjeong's face at how much of a simp she already was for a girl who BARELY pays attention to anyone.

You look at the puppy-like female, no expression on your face. "No, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of my time."

"Let me treat you out to coffee then!" The other spits out those words in a flash, her eyes full of determination of some sort. "It'll at least ease my mind."

You actually have no time for anything.

"It doesn't have to be today! Or tomorrow or the day after that." Minjeong exclaims, her eyes are puppy-like as she stares down at you. "Just, when you want cofffe, let me know."

And before your mouth forms a response to say, the red haired girl is already off on her heels and walking.

"I don't even know her...?" You speak to yourself, hold on your handbag tightens as you proceed to walk into the library with the same face you had on the entire time.

Being the youngest daughter of the Hong family isn't the easiest. Sure, others may argue that you got everything handed to you since the second you were born. You admit that they're correct, you were born in a family full of money.

Being born into one of the wealthiest family in South Korea already had a career already chosen for you.

But, it's not something you'd want to do for the rest of your life.

It's different for your sister and brother. While Haein is good at her job and takes charge while also being confident about it, Soocheol was adamant about extending his resort business. And you; you hated being in the business industry. Whether it'd be retail or resort, you'd be homeless instead.

"Y/N, keep your head in the game." Your father's voice brings you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to your senses. "You're going to be working alongside your sister after college so you need to make sure you're paying attention."

You let out a nod, apologizing under your breath as you pay attention back to the board where your brother-in-law is talking about the results of kicking out designer stores that aren't reaching their sales. Whatever that was.

"If we let that happen, we'll be required to pay a penalty fee if they found out due to the branding." Hyunwoo explains to your father.

You let out a bored sigh, looking across the table at your brother who's cluelessly flipping through the papers then at your older sister who is sat beside you, at ease listening to everything being said.

"Stop sighing." Haein warns you, worried that you'll get a scolding from your father at home during dinner. "Just endure it."

You pout your bottom lip out in response, picking up a pen and doodling on the papers that were handed out to you earlier before the meeting. Oh, how you wish you could be anywhere else but here.

"On the topic of counterfeit products, it may affect how the overall sales in a whole range." Hyun-woo points at the estimated percentages.

Fighting to urge to let out another sigh, you rest your chin in the palm of your hand trying to pay attention to whatever your brother-in-law babbling about now.

While trying to look interested in the contents of the screen, you can't help but to think back on what happened earlier on campus and the encounter with the puppy-resembling female.

How come you've never seen her before?

How were you even going to get coffee with her if you don't know the girl? Not saying you would but maybe; if it ever comes down to it; then it will.

"We will take a look and come up with appropriate measures." Your father said, giving a look to your brother to write that down. "Meeting done."

The way everyone in that room can see how your eyes lit up at those last two words from your father. Everyone exits the meeting room, besides your family. Rolling your eyes at what this may mean.

Another lecture on being professional as a Hong family member

Possibly a really good vacation trip out of nowhere

"Hong Y/N, just why do you think you can behave the way you do?" Your father clicks his tongue in a scolding manner, pressing the button on the remote which rolls down the blinds of the meeting room so other employees would not be able to see.

You look down at your hands, not wanting to make eye contact with the angry man.

"I understand you're the youngest but Y/N, you need to realize that you've been off the hook since birth." He continues, letting out a deep sigh after. "You need to start taking things seriously, you are not a kid anymore."

Without letting you say a word, you hear the footsteps of him leave the room with the door clicking shut behind him.

There it is again; the stupid burden falling and feeling heavy on your shoulders. Your body starts trembling and your tears can't stop falling from your dagger-like eyes.

"Y/Nnnie?" Your brother softly calls out, walking over to where you sat. "Are you crying?"

Your brother-in-law's hands you a tissue.

"That's why I told you to endure it." Haein warns you.

Soocheol pats your back. "You know how father is like. He's serious when it comes to business."

"Don't comfort her." Your sister takes Soocheol's hand off your back. "She needs to learn and grow from this."

Hyunwoo calms his wife down. "Honey, let's not stress her out."

"That's right! She's already startled by father's words from earlier." Your brother defends you.

The older female shakes her head, disapproving the two males. "Once you're all settled down, come to my office for a talk, Y/N."

Soocheol gasps, placing his hand over his mouth in a way to not frighten you (it didn't work). While your brother-in-law could only give you a 'good luck' look as he goes back to his office. Soocheol shortly leaving afterwards after getting a phone call from the chairman (your grandfather).

Clicking on the button of the remote to draw the blinds back up, you stare through the windows and across into where your older sister's office is at. She's furrowing her brows upon reading some critical conditions and you know she's unhappy with something.

With a sigh to calm down your nerves, you quietly exit the meeting room and walk across to knock on the CEO's door. Seeing her through the clear glass door, she brings her hand up which prompts you to walk in. Each step you take, nerves are taking over as you walk towards her desk.

"I'm not being tough on you because I want to." She looks up, crossing her arm. "But because you're a smart woman, Y/N. We just want to push that towards the business that's been in the family."

Business this! Business that! Why does no one ever want to hear what you want to do?

"Do you get what I'm trying to say?" Her brow is raised, looking stern yet she means no harm. "Push through for a few more years, alright?"

You want to laugh-out of absurd. Everyone always tells you that as long as you listen to father and grandfather, you should be set. After all, we were born and raised into a conglomerate family. One of the wealthiest at that.

Yet, why does it bother you when you know you're set for life?

"Are you listening, Y/N?" Haein says, waiting for your response.

"Yes."

With a hum in satisfaction, Haein leans back in her chair. "Okay, meeting done."

With a small bow, you can only walk out of your older sister's office feeling disappointed in yourself.

Minjeong sighs while taking a seat in the back of the lecture room waiting for the class to start and for her friends to get here. She can only get her materials out and prepare for class in the meantime.

While opening her tote bag, she hears the lecture room's doors open again, indicating that another person also decided to come early. Looking up, still tired and out of her mind, to see who the other person is; Minjeong suddenly sits up and instantly widens awake.

What are you doing here? You were in this class? How come the others never told her about you?

You stand up straight, bag clutched in your hands while looking effortlessly beautiful in a vintage Chanel long sleeved blazer which hugs your waist perfectly along with a white turtleneck and a matching vintage Chanel skirt. And rarely; a backpack is hugging your back.

Minjeong has to give it you; she does admit that your shoe game will always do the outfit even more attention. Valentino heels seems to be one of your favorites.

Oh; how down bad Minjeong is for this classy lady in front of her.

You and her make eye contact. You look at her, realizing that it's the same puppy-eyed girl from yesterday. With a small quiet sigh, you walk up the lecture room's stairs.

The short-haired feels her breath hitch at the sight of you walking, omg the universe is blessing her with all of these Y/N moments.

"Is anyone sitting here?" You ask, the same cold sounding voice like yesterday but oh does Minjeong love the way your voice sounds. (she can never be your hater like the others are)

The ginger shakes her head immediately. "Please sit!"

'Strange.' You talk to yourself in your own thoughts at how eager that girl sounded.

Nonetheless, you sit in the seat next to her. Taking your backpack off and placing it aside before staring at the side view of the red haired. How strange yet intriguing she is.

Minjeong can see from her peripheral vision, her ears starts heating up and she can't help but to awkwardly turn to you. Expecting you to look away, you continue staring. Same unfazed cold expression that you're known for.

"W-why are you staring at me?" She asks, unsure of what to do or say.

Getting a shrug in response from you, you sigh before turning your full attention to the front of the room.

"What time does this class end?" You look down at the watch sitting on your wrist, ready to bolt out of here before getting yet another scolding from your sister.

"9:45."

With another sigh escaping your mouth, you sit up straight while continuing to stare at the whiteboard against the wall.

Minjeong wonders how long you've been in this class for. Perhaps; it's your first day.

The door opens again, this time with two loud voices and one voice shushing them constantly. A specific ginger short-haired hides her face from them, on purpose (and to also not mess up her love life).

"Oh! Minjeong is here today!" Aeri looks up, ready to wave at the named girl before trailing her eyes over to the figure next to her and her mouth instantly hangs low.

You nod to yourself at the recent information. Her name is Minjeong? Somehow; that name matches the puppy-like student.

"Let's not bother her." Jimin pushes both Aeri and Yizhou to rows a couple behind the first before sending a look over to her best friend.

The Japanese fights the urge to look back, whispering to Yizhou. "I thought Hong Y/N dropped this class?"

"She probably had other things to attend to." Yizhou whispers back.

Clearing your throat, you turn towards the female besides you.

Minjeong fidgets with her hands before she too turns to face you.

"About that coffee-" "-Would you like to get coffee today?"

The both of you stare at each other, until she lets out a laugh which caught your attention. Suddenly, you're staring a bit harder at her, focusing on her features a bit longer than you normally would focus on other people. And you cannot help but to wonder why once again, you've never seen her before until now.

"Would you like to get coffee with me today after class?" Minjeong asks, a smile on her pretty lips as she patiently waits for your answer with nervousness rushing through her at the expression of yours.

You clear your throat again, pulling away from the eye contact as you stare back at the front while ignoring the way your cheeks suddenly feels warm. "Okay, then."

Your answer simply means yes.

To Minjeong, that answer sounded indecisive almost.

"Your treat, correct?" You ask, still ignoring the weird heating effect on your cheeks.

The puppy-like female is doing summersaults in her head, jumping up and down mentally like an overly excited puppy who's ready to tackle down their human.

"Yeah! Of course, it is!"

next part: may 8, 2024; publishing date

i LOVED qot SO MUCH so of course i had a bit of inspo for this small short, characters from queen of tears are NOT mines (all rights go to the writers) leaning to writing another part to this (maybe?)

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #aespa x reader #minjeong x reader #kim minjeong x reader #winter x reader

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ellecdc · 3 months

Note

ive been thinking about stone-faced unamused independent reader and how james and barty would absolutely love to baby her and treat her like a princess and she has none of it..until shes feeling sort of down and like she needs their love and support so she gives in and theyre both so shocked and excited theyre like little dogs wagging their tails spinning around her

hiii....I'm back to apologizing to everyone who sent me in requests 2.5+ months ago for me to hoard them until inspiration struck! hope I did it justice hahaha

poly!darksun x black cat!reader and Sirius who just doesn't Get It

CW: fem!reader, reader is maybe a little mean but obviously James and Barty are into that shit, Sirius' POV so a very unreliable narrator

Sirius Black believed himself to be a pretty open-minded person.

He believed that love was love, he staunchly disagreed with blood status and had a lot of respect for muggle-borns, and believed in the fair treatment of beasts and other magical creatures in the Wizarding World.

But no matter how open-minded Sirius believed himself to be, he could not for the life of him figure out how in the hells James Potter and Barty Crouch Junior found their way to you.

Sirius admittedly had a hard enough time finding out that his best friend was dating his semi-estranged little brother’s maniacal (read: bat-shit crazy) best friend, but this?

This made no sense to him.

At least when it came to the likes of Barty Crouch Junior, James had found someone who could rival him in energy and enthusiasm. James could run for seven hours straight at a gods-honest sprint and Barty was just about crazy enough to try as well. Barty never denied his more intrusive thoughts and James was morbidly curious enough to watch those thoughts play out.

And both of them seemed to love hard; even if Sirius didn’t approve of that love, even if he didn’t like that love, he could admit that it, at the very least, made sense for him.

But where James was all golden retriever energy and Barty was some kind deranged, rabid mutt straight from the depths of hell, you….

Well, Sirius wasn’t sure exactly what you were.

Where James was sweet and Barty was enthusiastic, you were utterly unimpressed.

Where James was excitable and Barty was chaotic, you were completely apathetic.

And where James and Barty could be…slightly codependent, you seemed wholly disinterested in having either of them (or anyone for that matter) near you.

“Sod off; I can carry my own damned books.” You had spat at Barty as he tried to take them from you.

And Sirius had to stand there and watch both Barty and James stare after you with a lovesick look adorning their faces as you stalked away from them.

“Well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” Sirius muttered derisively, earning him a threatening glare from Barty and a frustrated stare from James.

“You’re one to talk, Pads; I watched Remus actually growl at a first year who tried to take the last pumpkin pastie at dinner last night.” He grumbled before redirecting Barty away from Sirius’ jugular.

And that seemed to be your response to pretty much anything those two did; you elbowed James in the stomach when he held the door open for you like a ‘poncy chauffeur’, you stomped on Barty’s foot when he offered you his elbow on the moving staircase, and you never seemed particularly pleased should they wind up in your vicinity.

Yet…

Yet you never made any effort to actually remove them from your vicinity, nor did you make any effort to leave theirs.

In fact, if Sirius wasn’t mistaken, he was sure he saw your shoulders relax ever so slightly when you realised the people pulling out the chair across from you in the library were James and Barty.

They tensed right back up when Sirius and Peter accompanied them, but that's besides the point.

No, you didn’t converse with any of them. Yes, you completely ignored any attempts at conversation from James or Barty - save taking the opportunity to correct them in their debate about their potions homework. And just once, Sirius was certain he’d heard you whisper a quiet thank you to Barty when he helped you find the page number for the answer to number 47 of your Herbology homework.

It seemed to Sirius that no matter how staunchly you refused to allow either boy to fawn over you, you weren’t completely averse to their company. And though this amount of dedication didn’t exactly surprise Sirius coming from James, seeing as he spent four and half years of his school life pursuing a completely disinterested witch, he was confused that Barty hadn’t gotten bored yet.

It was all very peculiar, Sirius thought.

Even more peculiar was when Barty and James had been snuggling in James’ bed as James quizzed Moony for the upcoming Alchemy test when there was a tentative knock on the dormitory door.

Peter looked up from his Ancient Runes homework to look at Sirius, James and Barty lifted their heads to look at Sirius, and Remus turned in his desk chair to look at Sirius.

“What?” Sirius asked. “I didn’t knock.”

“You’re the only one not currently doing anything.” Remus countered.

Sirius paused in his throwing and catching of James’ pilfered snitch to look at him incredulously.

“I am too doing something.” He argued, holding the snitch between his thumb and forefinger and waving it at him. “Besides, Junior’s just laying there.”

“I’m a guest, Black. It’d be terribly improper for me to answer your dormitory door.”

“Answer the sodding door, Sirius.” Remus grumbled as he turned back towards James.

“A ray of sunshine.” James sing-songed for Sirius’ benefit, clearly still not over his passing comment of you from days ago.

Sirius let out a dramatically petulant sigh as he stood to open the door.

Your face pinched when you saw who had answered, though Sirius had to hand it to you how quickly you corrected your expression.

Before you had a chance to tell Sirius why you were here, he looked back over his shoulder at James’ bed.

“See, I don’t think I should have to open the door for your bird!”

All that was heard was a painful sounding thump and James muttering “Barty, my glasses” before Barty materialised at the door.

“Hi Treasure!” He greeted enthusiastically.

Sirius watched your eyes narrow as you seemingly debated whether or not to make a fuss over his nickname before ultimately deciding against it.

“Angel!” James cheered as he, too, rounded the corner and shoved Sirius out of the way. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Sirius sat back down on his bed where he could see you consider your options carefully.

Finally, after having the two sods stand there no doubt smothering you in smiles and soft eyes did you look shyly down at your shoes. “Can I…hang out with you guys for the afternoon?” You asked quietly.

Barty and James exchanged a - quite comical, in Sirius’ opinion - excited look before returning their gazes to you. “Of course!” They chorused; the volume startling you into lifting your head to look at them nervously.

James cleared his throat and moved out of the door frame, ushering you in. “Of course you can.” He offered quieter this time, guiding you towards his bed as he looked over his shoulder and mouthed “oh my gods” at Barty who was eagerly following behind you.

“What have you been up to today?” James asked then, clearly wondering what motivated this impromptu and voluntary visit but not wanting to chance whatever spell had been cast to get you here.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, anxiously picking at your nail beds as each boy sat tentatively beside you.

“I was studying in the library…” You offered, sounding horribly robotic and rehearsed in your response before you let out a shuddering sigh. Sirius watched as you visibly deflated and leaned slightly closer into Barty’s side. “I’ve had a bit of a headache all day.” You admit.

James and Barty both coo in unison as James cautiously rubs circles on your back; you let him.

“You have a headache?” Sirius deadpanned from across the room. “And you came here? To these two? Are they not the source?”

“Get out.” Barty spat, braving himself as he tightened his arm around you; once again, you let him.

“You can’t kick me out of my own dorm room, Junior!” Sirius argued. “Why don’t you go to your dorm room?”

“Oh, do you want to know what your baby brother and Rosier were up to before I left? Because I’ll happily scar you with that knowledge, Black.” Barty threatened.

Sirius, who was not ashamed to admit he was perhaps more than slightly immature, simply covered his ears and started singing to drown out the sound of Barty’s voice.

“That’s it, everyone out.” James barked then; tone taking on an air of Gryffindor quidditch captain.

Remus scoffed indignantly at that as Peter - clearly the wisest of the bunch - simply began packing up his homework. “You promised to help me pass this test!”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake, Lupin; the answers are A, D, B, B, A, C, D, A, A, true, true, false, Nicholas Flammel.” Barty barked at him, causing Remus to blink owlishly at him.

“Fine.” Remus finally said as he stood, shocking Sirius into silence at his quick acquiescence to such abhorrent demands. “Let’s go, Sirius.”

Sirius, feeling awfully petulant, hurled the snitch towards James’ head who quickly and calmly caught it before offering it to you as Remus hauled him off the bed by his wrist and all but dragged him towards the door.

“But it’s not fair, Moony!” Sirius pouted as he slammed on the breaks just outside the threshold of their dorm room.

“Sirius.” Remus started solemnly. “How many times did you try to convince me to snuggle with you at night before we started dating?”

“217.” Sirius answered readily, relishing in the soft smile Remus had clearly tried and failed at fighting off.

“Right, 217 times you tried to convince me to snuggle with you; and how many of those times did I deny you?”

“216.”

“Right.” Remus agreed. “And what had James done to ensure that I would relent that one time?”

Sirius let out a pained sigh as he looked to the heavens. “He charmed his, Pete’s, and your bed to the ceiling so there was only one option.”

“Right.” Remus agreed again, softer this time as he rested his hand at the juncture of Sirius’ neck and shoulder and rubbed his thumb along the column of his throat. “So don’t you think the least we could do right now is just let them have the room?”

Sirius looked back into the room in time to see you smiling softly at something James was saying as Barty placed what appeared to be a wet cloth to the back of your neck; your eyes closing and face relaxing in relief, leaning back into Barty as James massaged your calves and carried on in his story.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Sirius whined then, leaning his head into his boyfriend’s chest as he watched you curl up, not unlike a cat who had finally decided to sit on its person’s lap.

“Can you maybe try to remind yourself that James deserves this?” Remus whispered into Sirius’ hair.

“For Godric’s sake, Moony.” Sirius grumbled as he stood and began storming off in the direction of the common room. “Why d’you have to be so bloody reasonable all of the time!?”

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waitimcomingtoo · 10 months

Text

Lead Me To The Garden

pairing: Peeta Mellark x best friend!reader

Synopsis: Peeta kisses you before going into the Games but then has an onscreen romance with another girl

“Who do you think it’ll be this year?”

Peeta didn’t look up from the dough he was kneading as he thought about your question. Reaping day always brought a lot of anxiety for the two of you and Peeta typically distracted himself by baking. In a similar fashion, you liked to distract yourself by hanging around the bakery and watching Peeta.

“I don’t know. Maybe one of my brothers.” He said finally.

“Don’t even joke. I better never hear “Mellark” out of that crazy sparkly lady’s mouth.”

“I told you, she’s not crazy. That’s just how people dress in the Capital.” Peeta chuckled and held his hand out. You put some flour into his hand and he slapped in onto his dough.

“I don’t care how much money you have. Nobody should dress like that. How does she even sit in those dresses?” You wondered and took a bite of one of the muffins he had made. You hopped up on the counter top and let your legs swing as you watched him put his bread into the oven.

“What would you wear? If you had Capital money?” He asked as he wiped his hands on his apron.

“A yellow sweater.” You said with a sheepish smile.

“What? That’s it?” Peeta chuckled and leaned on the counter that you were sitting on, boxing you between his arms.

“Don’t laugh.” You gasped playfully. “You can dye cloth but not wool. At least not in this district. And you definitely can’t get any color as yellow as the dandelions that grow behind my house. So I would buy a nice, warm, yellow sweater. The kind with the fancy pattern that looks like a braid. It would be the first thing I own that’s pretty. And that’s new. I would be the first person to wear it.”

“If I had any money, I’d buy you one.” Peeta said with a soft smile.

“Really? You wouldn’t spend your money on yeast or milk?” You teased him.

“Baking isn’t my whole life, you know. I like other things too.” He said and leaned in a little. You inhaled his scent and could smell the baked goods he’d been baking all day on his skin. It was mixed with the scent that was just distinctly Peeta, a scent you had grown to associate with home.

“Like what?” You asked as you leaned in as well. Peeta’s eyes dropped to your lips for a second before he reminded himself that best friends weren’t supposed to think about each other that way.

“Stealing food from you.” He said to cover up his fondness and took the muffin from you hand. He held eye contact with you as he took a bite of the muffin which made you laugh and smack his arm.

“You’re really good at it.” You humored him.

“Thank you. I try to be.” He said and hopped up on the counter beside you. He handed the muffin back to you and you mouthed “thank you” before taking another bite.

“So what would you really buy?” You asked once you swallowed.

“I’d buy a house.” He said without having to think about it.

“Really? But you have a house.”

“I know. But I want my own house. With a nice oven and a book shelf for your books for when you come over. And it would be nice and quiet inside. And I’d have a garden so I never had to go to the market if I found a new recipe I wanted to try.” Peeta said as he traced the outline of a carnation on your leg. You slipped your arm through his and ran your fingers up and down it in the way he once told you his mom did when he was a little boy.

“That sounds really nice.” You said quietly. He looked into your eyes and smiled softly.

“You could live there too.” He told you.

“Why? So I could take care of the garden for you?” You teased.

“So we could be together everyday.” He said, making your laughter stop. You didn’t realize he was being serious and felt guilty for making a joke. You rested your head on his shoulder and continued to run your fingernails up and down his arm.

“That would be nice.” You agreed. “We could get a little house by the meadow. We could decorate it the way we wanted, like with your drawings and paintings. And there would never be shouting because we’d always talk to each other with love.”

“I think we’d be really happy there.” Peeta said as he lifted his head off of yours to look at you. You kept your head on his shoulder and stared straight ahead.

“But what if they call my name later?” You said quietly.

“They won’t. There’s dozens of girls in the district. They won’t call you.”

“What if they call you?”

“Theres even more boys in the district. And if they did call me, one of my brothers would probably volunteer.” Peeta shrugged but you could tell he didn’t believe himself.

You sat in silence for a little longer until his bread was ready. He took it out and brought it outside while you grabbed a blanket. You ate out on the grass in comfortably silence as you stared out at the mountains. A horn soon sounded in the air, signaling that it was time to go. You walked to town together and saw girls and boys getting into their respective lines.

“See you after?” You asked him with a nervous smile. Peeta nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. He kissed the side of your head before joining the rest of the boys. You got your finger pricked and joined the girls in a massive group that faced that stage. A younger girl from distract was called first and her sister immediately volunteered to go in for her. Your heart was finally started to calm down when you heard the worst two words you could possibly imagine being said into the microphone.

“Peeta Mellark.” Effie said with a poised smile. You’d never know she was giving s death sentence by the tone in her voice.

You froze as the crowd was swept with shocked murmurs and people looking at you. Your head was stiff as your eyes slowly followed Peeta emerging from the crowd and walking on stage. He was just as catatonic as you were on that stage and kept his eyes low. He shook hands with the girl who had been picked and was led backstage which was when you started screaming. You pushed through the crowd and ran towards the stage but were caught by two Peacekeepers. You thought you were about to be executed but they actually brought into the back to where Peeta had gone. You passed his brothers and parents in the hallway before getting shoved into a room. Peeta was inside with red eyes and a pale face.

“Peeta.” You choked out and threw your arms around him. Peeta hugged you as tight as he could without hurting you and buried his face in your shoulder. You stroked his hair and whispered comforting words in his ear until he calmed down.

“I’m so sorry.” You said into his ear.

“It’s okay.” He sniffled and pulled out of the hug. You stared into his teary eyes for a second before grabbing his hands.

“We can run. We can sneak out of here and head to the woods and just run.” You whispered.

“We can’t. They’ll catch me and kill you first trying.” He shook his head sadly.

“But we have to do something. They can’t do this to you. They can’t take you away.” You urged. Peeta put a hand on your face and wiped your tear with his thumb.

“There’s nothing we can do.” He whispered. You nodded your head and knew there was no use spending the little time you had left trying to come up with a plan that would never work.

“I guess you’re right. So I’ll see you when you come back, okay?” You said and cupped his face.

“Oh, honey.” He smiled sadly. “I’m not coming home.”

“Shh.” You covered his mouth. “Yes you are. You’re gonna come home to me and we’re gonna build the house with the garden like we said we would.”

“There’s never going to be a garden. I’m gonna die in there.” Peeta choked up so you pulled him back into a hug.

“No you’re not. You’re not gonna die. I won’t let you.” You promised him as you stroked his hair to calm him down.

“Our district can barely afford to feed themselves. We have no money for sponsorships. And I have no skills outside of the bakery. I can’t hunt or protect myself. I’ve never even killed an animal. I’m gonna die in there.” Peeta cried into your shoulder.

“Shhh. Don’t say that. You can still win. Maybe a miracle will happen.” You said but even you didn’t believe it. A Peacekeeper then pounded on the door to signal that your time was almost up. You froze in Peeta’s arms before gripping him tighter. Peeta pulled away suddenly and cupped your face in his hands.

“I need to tell you something.” He said hastily.

“What is it?” You worried when you saw the panic in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you. I always have been. Since we were kids.”

“Peeta, what?“ You whispered and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

“I have always loved you. I’m sorry it took me until now to tell you. I wish I told you when I first felt it. But I needed you to know before I left.” He said as he stared into your eyes. You were speechless as you stared back but before you could say anything, a Peacekeeper burst in the door. He grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room but you just yanked your arm away. You threw your arms around Peeta and kissed him for as long as you could before you were pulled away by the Peacekeeper.

“Now you have to come home.” You said to him as you struggled against the Peacekeeper trying to pull you out of the room. Peeta grabbed your hand and held it as long as he could until the Peacekeeper picked you up.

“I love you!” Peeta shouted after you with his hand still outstretched.

“I’ll wait for you!” You shouted back as you were carried out of the room.

You watched the broadcast everyday with your eyes peeled for any glimpse of Peeta. You were shocked to see him on fire in the tribute parade and even more surprised at the sight of him in a suit for his interview with Cesar Flickerman. You’d only ever seen Peeta in colorless, wrinkled, cotton clothes from your district which was a sharp contrast to the shiny black suit adorned with sparkly red flames on the sleeve. You smiled shyly as if he were right in front of you and tried to touch the projection of the broadcast but your fingers just went through. Peeta was surprisingly charming in his interview and it made your heart yearn for your best friend. You missed spending the day with him and him making you laugh in person so this was a nice substitution.

“Is there anyone special at home?” Cesar asked Peeta. Peeta smiled shyly and looked into the camera, making you feel like he was looking directly at you.

“Actually, yes. There is a special girl from home that I’ve loved for what feels like my entire life.” Peeta said with a bashful smile. You grinned and clasped your hands under your chin as you watched him talk about you.

“Well that’s great. If you win the games, she’ll have to go out with you.” Cesar said and patted his shoulder.

“Unfortunately winning the games isn’t going to help me.” Peeta said with a sad smile.

“Oh no? Why not?” Cesar asked him.

“Because she came here with me.” Peeta answered.

Your stomach dropped. Your jaw dropped. Your felt like you were going to be sick. He wasn’t talking about you. He was talking about the girl he got reaped with. You turned away from the broadcast and held yourself in your arms as you ran to your room. You slammed your door before throwing yourself on your bed. You cried yourself to sleep and when you woke up, you realized you had missed the start of the games. You lingered around areas that were broadcasting the games to keep an eye on Peeta. Your anxiety was at an all time high day in and day out as you prayed he’d live to see another day. It was a few days in that he got cut with a sword by one of the boys from district one. You cried yourself to sleep again that night since Peeta wasn’t shown on camera for a while after that. Finally, you heard from a girl in town that Peeta had been found by the lake by the girl from your district. You ran home as fast as you could and turned on the broadcast right in time to see him kissing Katniss. You let out a shocked squeak and quickly turned the games off. You did your best to avoid any information about the games after that but the romance between Katniss and Peeta was all anyone in your district could talk about. It was rare that people from your district lasted this long in the games, let alone two of them, so you couldn’t blame people for talking about it. To add to that, the romance was something that had never been seen in the games before and made for very entertaining television for every single person in your district besides you. You were rooting for Peeta, of course, but you could not bear to watch him cuddling with another girl as he fought for his life.

Finally, the last day came. You watched Peeta and Katniss win after nearly killing themselves in front of the world so that they didn’t have to kill each other. You felt your anxiety deplete for the first time in weeks when Peeta put down the berries. You didn’t even care that he was hugging another girl after nearly killing himself so that he didn’t have to lose her because it meant that he was coming home. He was finally coming home.

On the day the winners were set to return home, you waited in the crowd beside Gale Hawthorn, a boy from your district, and Katniss’s little sister. You and Gale were eyeing each other curiously and had no idea that you were in the same boat. Peeta and Katniss were brought out on stage and you felt tears come to your eyes the second you saw Peeta. You clapped for him like everyone else in the crowd but froze when you noticed that he was holding her hand. Peeta was scanning the crowd for you and when he finally spotted you, he dropped Katniss’s hand and waved to you. You weakly waved back but couldn’t shake the mixed emotions brewing inside you. You were beyond relieved and grateful that he was home safe. But that didn’t mean it didn’t deeply hurt you to watch him with another girl after he told you that he loved you. You and Peeta stared at each other from your places on the stage and the crowd and both began to cry without relaxing it. You wiped your face and put on a smile for him despite the pain you were feeling inside.

After Peeta and Katniss gave their speeches, the crowd dispersed and you followed Peeta’s brothers back to his house. You bounced your leg as you sat at their kitchen table and waited for Peeta to come home. Finally, the door opened and he walked inside. He was dressed in fancy Capital clothing but had the same old smile that you knew so well. You watched him hug his mother first, then father. His brothers hugged him all at once and patted his back or rubbed his hair, touching him in any way they could.

Then, he looked at you.

Peeta looked startled to see you at first but his eyes immediately softened. You stood up from your seat and your legs felt like jelly as you slowly walked towards him. His eyes were brimmed with tears and he could not believe you had come to see him after what he made you watch him do in the games. You were hurt and confused by his actions but you put on a brave face for him now that he was home.

“You’re here?” He asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Of course I’m here. You’re here.”

“I thought you’d be mad.” He said in a weak voice. He was looking at you as if he was expecting a lecture or a blow out fight, but that’s not what you came for.

“I still had to see you.” You said simply.

Peeta gulped when you didn’t deny that you were mad but nodded his head.

“So where’s Katniss?” You asked him with fake politeness.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “With her family, probably.”

“Oh.” You nodded and an awkward silence fell between you. His family exchanged looks and Peeta was fully aware of it.

“Do you think we could talk? Just the two of us?” He asked hopefully. You nodded your head and he lead you to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. A black box on his dresser caught your eye as you sat down on his bed. He noticed it too and went over to it to open it up. When he turned around, he had a soft yellow knit sweater in his hands that made your jaw drop.

“I, uh, I brought you this from the Capital.” Peeta said as a shy blush covered his face.

“You found a yellow sweater?” You gasped and touched the sweater with gentle hands as if you were afraid your damage it. You’d never seen clothes that color in person before and it was even better than you imagined.

“I tried to but I never found one like the one you described. So I asked them to make it for me. They made four of them, actually. They can just do that there. They know nothing about want.” Peeta laughed shortly but neither of you found it funny.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You smiled gratefully and took the sweater. The fact that he had remembered the sweater you told him about despite everything he had just gone through. You felt guilty for being mad at him now that he had given you the sweater and realized you hadn’t even hugged him yet. You folded the sweater and left it on his bed before standing up. Peeta tensed up and wasn’t sure what you were about to do. You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around him, to which he immediately responded to and hugged you back. He instantly broke down and cried in your arms just like he did the day of the Reaping. You stroked his hair and cooed in his ear until he calmed down enough to talk.

“I didn’t think you were ever gonna talk to me again.” He sniffled. You pressed your cheek against his blonde hair and took in his scent for the first time in weeks. Underneath the expensive cologne the Capital had dawned him in, you could still smell Peeta.

“Of course I’ll still talk to you. I’m sorry I was so cold to you. I’m just confused.” You admitted as you pulled out of the hug.

“I know.” Peeta nodded. “And you have every reason to be. I told you I loved you and then I professed my love to another girl with the whole world watching. If the roles were reversed, I’d be devastated. But you have to understand, that wasn’t what it looked like. It was all an act.”

“An act?”

“Yeah. We pretended to be a couple so people would send us food and medicine. I had no way to tell you that it wasn’t real and I’m so sorry about that. You don’t know how badly I wished I could tell you.” Peeta professed as he cupped your face in his hands.

“You were just pretending?” You smiled in surprise.

“Of course I was. What did you think? That it was real?” He laughed softly.

“Well, yeah. That’s what it looked like. I thought guys fell for each other during training and your love got you through the games.”

“Our acting got us through.” He corrected. “Haymitch told us to do it the day we met him. You really thought I fell for another girl that quickly?”

You didn’t share in his smile and shook your head instead. Peeta’s eyes softened and he rubbed his thumb on your cheek.

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine how confusing that must have been to watch after how we said goodbye.” Peeta said with a sympathetic pout. Your anger towards him melted away as you wrapped your hand around his wrists.

“So you don’t love her?”

“No. I never did. I’ve only ever loved you.” He answered with a soft smile. A smile tugged on your lips as well so you rested your forehead against his. Peeta let go of your face and wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you flushed against him.

“You know, the thought of coming home to you was the only thing that kept me going. I thought about the way you kissed me every night.” Peeta said as he stared into your eye.

“You did?” You smiled shyly at the memory.

“I did.” He nodded. “It was the only thing keeping me warm.”

You stared back into his eyes before tilting your head to the side and connecting his lips in a kiss. He kissed you back slowly and tightened his grip with one hand while moving the other up and down your back. All your anger and confusion melted away into the kiss now that he was yours again. When you pulled away, you stayed in comfortable silence in each others arms.

“Will you come live with me in Victors Village? We can plant our garden like we said.” Peeta asked you.

And so you did. You moved in with him and hung his paintings on the wall to decorate the place. You planted the garden in the backyard and put you in change of the vegetables while Peeta tended the flowers.

But you didn’t feel at home when you walked through the door each day. It was only when Peeta got home everyday with a fresh loaf of bread that the house became home.

#peeta mellark whump #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta x reader

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rainylana · 5 months

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“I’m not always bad.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds you crying. why does he care?

warnings: bully eddie, bad boy, awkward and meanie eddie, language, crying, upset reader, talk of cancer, readers dad has cancer. a potential series if you want it, let me know!

gif is not mine!

update! part two has been posted and is located on my masterlist!

He supposed maybe over time it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to have some sort of care for you, after all, he had known you since the both of you were in diapers in preschool together, and ever since, he’d treated you like dirt beneath his leather boots.

He was an absolute prick to you, and you couldn’t remember one memory of him being nice to you. Maybe it was because you came from a ‘white picket fence’ home, had good grades, an honor student, actually. Maybe it was because you were pretty? Maybe he liked you? No. You had long since disregarded that idea many years ago. He wouldn’t be this mean.

You walked as quickly as you could to the gymnasium, pink heels clicking with every step and turn. Your eyes blurred with tears and you hiccuped a breath. You pushed open the door, relieved no one was in there, at least, not to your knowledge, and plopped down on the closet set of bleachers to your right. You put your head in your hands and cried like a baby pathetically.

Eddie was closing up a deal when you’d come busting in dramatically. He quickly hid his stash, thinking it was a teacher as his customer quickly left the scene, muttering a thank you as he did so. When he say it was you, he cursed under his breath and put away his things.

He adjusted his jacket, putting away his weed and wallet as he watched you. He squinted his eyes. Were you crying? He’d seen you cry before, that wasn’t anything new, but you looked upset. He walked across the gym floor, adjusting his junk like a typical male specimen.

“Why the long face, L/n?” His demeaning voice boomed and echoed.

You jumped, revealing your tear stricken face. You groaned. “Fuck! I- I didn’t know anyone was in here. Sorry.” You went up to leave.

“Woah, woah,” He held up his hands. “You’re on my turf, L/n. Crying and trespassing on my property are not to go unpunished.” He tried to ignore the fact you were visibly upset, thinking maybe you got a bad grade or tripped over your own feet and embarrassed yourself. That’s usually what it was, anyways.

Today, however, you couldn’t deal with his dramatics. Your face crumbled into tears and you sobbed, slowly sinking back down to your seat and hunched back over. Eddie, despite his antics, couldn’t help but furrow his brow. He watched you for a moment, looking to see if anyone else was around he could pass you off to. He looked back at you, and when you pushed out a particular harsh sob, he knew that this time was different. Something was wrong.

Unbeknownst to him, he frowned, pursing his lips and climbed up to bleachers to sit beside you. He looked at you like you were from another planet, eyes wide and alert like you were playing a joke on him. He didn’t like this said joke.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, looking for the quickest way out. “Stop crying.” Way to cheer her up, buddy.

“I can’t.” You sobbed into your hands. “My life’s falling apart!”

That broke him out of his shocked state and he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, leaning back into his seat. “What happened now?”

“Just leave me alone, Eddie!” You snapped angrily, jerking your head toward him so hard he thought it was fly clean off and roll onto the floor with the rest of the disregarded basketballs. “Do you have to be such a jerk everyday of my life? Can’t you let me cry in peace just for once?” You stared at Eddie, who was startled and wide eyed, looking at you like you’d gone made.

He sighed heavily, a mask of irritation and annoyance falling over his hooded eyes. “Fine.”

He got up to leave, obeying your wish for once. You watched him get up and leave, and for some odd reason, your heart seemed to sink even further. Once again, you sank back into yourself, listening as his footsteps got further and further away.

He cursed when he got to the gymnasium door, turning back to look at your weeping figure. “Fuck.” He clenched his fist and brought it up to his teeth angrily. Why? Why did he suddenly seem to care about your distress?

He was back beside you, sighing loudly like he didn’t care. “Alright, L/n, what’s going on?”

You gave him a sharp glare, shooting him daggers. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He fired back. “But I don’t need you busting in during my deals, so you might as well get whatever it is off your chest and wipe your damn tears.” He lifted himself off the seat briefly, reaching back and grabbing his black bandana and handing it to you. You didn’t grab it, so he placed it on your lap with a huff.

It was your turn to look him strangely, like he was from another planet, a strange land you’d yet to be aware of. “You’re being weird.”

“Shut up.” He retorted. “You’ve got snot all over your face.”

You purposely rubbed your nose with his bandana, making sure to clean your face of mucus and tears. He recoiled, grossed out at the action. “Yeah, you can keep that.” He said.

He gave you a minute. Nobody said anything as you calmed down, sniffling to yourself here and there. His concern grew when he noticed the shaking of your hands. “Hey,” He said, voice deep and gruff. “What’s the matter with you?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “My dad has cancer.”

He couldn’t help it then. His whole face dropped. His jaw fell slack and his eyes widened.

“I just found out yesterday.” Your voice was full and thick with tears. “I was in math class and just had to get out before I had a public fucking breaking down like I’m doing now!” You said, angry with yourself.

“It doesn’t even make sense!” You continued. “My dad is a good man! He’s done nothing to deserve this! I don’t understand!” You cried, rambling to him at this point. He didn’t mind, he didn’t know what to say anyways.

“My whole family is just…numb. Dad’s pretending he’s not bothered by it. He’s doing everything he normally does. Mowing the grass, helping mom with the flower bed.”

You kept talking and Eddie listened, and in that moment, he felt pure sorrow and remorse, compassion and empathy for you. He listened to your words and felt his stomach sink. And you were beautiful, a random thought jostled in the middle somewhere between sorrow and empathy.

You cried to him for almost an hour. You talked about your family falling apart, but continuing on despite the downfall. The number of months the doctors had given your father to live. You talked about not being walked by him down the aisle, him not seeing his grandchildren. It was all here and there, but Eddie listened and said nothing, and after awhile, you forgot he was there and that it was Eddie.

When two o’clock rolled around, you breathed heavily and looked at your watch, then him. “You didn’t need to stay.” You were completely exhausted, mentally and physically.

“It’s alright.” It was the first thing he’d said in an entire hour. “You needed someone to talk to. I’m just being a good samaritan.”

“Still,” Your eyes were red and raw. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not always bad.”

You managed to smile. He didn’t.

“Well, thanks.” You said softly. “My friends don’t know yet. Nobody does. Please don’t tell?” You looked at him with round eyes that were always so full of innocence.

“I won’t say anything.” He shook his head.

You sniffled once more and nodding, standing up and fixing your white skirt. “Well, I better get back to class. Thanks for listening.”

He let you walk all the way across the room and to the door before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at you, but both of your hearts seemed to lighten. The door clicked open loudly and shut, leaving him to himself.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully eddie #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character

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keenvictory · 7 months

Text

Synopsis: Cove is already pretty clingy. But you wearing his clothes drives him crazy. (NSFW drabble)

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Cove Holden x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: Minor possessive talk, mostly he's just a clingy loser.

̗̀➛ Additional notes: A finished post? My word! Finally putting my near 400 our life hours to use. I hope to post more soon. Leave me some requests for ideas if you'd like!

Nobody you know would call Cove possessive. He's beyond secure in your relationship by now, you've known each other for years upon years. Nobody on earth could even attempt to take his place in your life.

He sulks a little when something or someone steals your attention away for a long time. Jokingly complains about your coworkers getting to see more of you then he does when long hours keep you away from each other.

He's clingy, certainly. Spoiled? Absolutely. But possessive? He couldn't be. Well... That's not quite true. Cove would be lying if there wasn't a small, carnal part of him, deep deep down, that absolutely adored you belonging to him, and him to you in turn.

The feelings oh so rarely rear their ugly head, he almost forgets they're there at all. Until he sees you draped across the couch on a lazy Sunday morning, bundled up in his pajamas. Wearing his clothes has always done something insatiable to him, no matter the size difference. Whether his shirt pools around your tummy or hugs your waist tight, his cock pulses with a dreadful, needy rhythm.

You have to be aware. Right? Of course you know what it does to him. Every moment with you is heavenly, but you have to have noticed the way he squirms every time you stretch back and his shirt dips and pulls. You have to have noticed the way he fucks you far too energetically for a lazy morning, groping your chest through the soft material of the t-shirt. Surely, surely you've realized he all too often "forgets" to put your laundry in the washing machine with his own, lending you his clothes out of the lustful kindness of his heart? Whether you know what it does to him or not hardly matters, because Cove is there within moments, curling up beside you on the couch. Pressing his face against your neck, his long fingers tracing the slope of your thigh. "Cove?" You ask sweetly, putting whatever it was you were doing aside. "Do you need something?"

God he loves it when you say his name. The needy ache in him only gets worse, he tries to push your bodies flush together, almost grinding the tent in his pants against your hip. He's never been the best at initiating sex, his mind gets so hazy and the words don't come to his lips.

Not that he always minds, he hardly knows what to say ever, and there are much better uses for his mouth. Like now, as he presses gentle kisses to your neck in place of answering. He toys with the idea of nipping at the sweet skin there, leaving a little mark for later. But he's already so restless seeing a bruise he left marking you as his might have him cumming in his pants, and he really can't do that again.

"My love," You purr, and a sharp shock of want pierces through him. He bucks his hips against you, desperate. "Use your words. What do you want?" What does he want? To bend you over the sofa and fuck you senseless, possibly. To burn all the other clothes on the planet so you always have to prance around in his pjs. To make you cum over and over until you're as restless and needy as he feels. But mostly importantly, most senselessly.

"I want you."

#our life #our life beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #cove our life #cove x reader #cove x mc #olba #cove holden x you #cove holden x mc #replaying our life for the 17th-ish time and i had. ideas #ty cove for making me write again

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rosiesmuts · 1 year

Text

Dangerous Game

Twice Sana ft. Nayeon

Words: 4,400

A/N: Sana hella hot doe

Nayeon is sick and tired of Sana bragging about her blowjob skills yet again.

"And then," Sana says, waving her hands as she recounts her latest sexual conquest. "He came, like, everywhere. All over my face. My tits. My stomach. I swear I was just covered in cum."

"You're so fucking disgusting," Nayeon replies. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Sana chirps. "It's not my fault guys just explode when I suck their dick."

Nayeon groans,"I'm really sick of hearing about how great you think you are at giving head. I bet I'm just as good as you are."

"I doubt it," Sana says, shrugging.

"Bet."

"Fine. Let's bet, loser has to do whatever the winner asks. But how are we gonna prove it?"

"I bet Oppa is game. He's waiting for me to come home. Technically he's the best person to judge."

"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna suck your boyfriend's cock."

"Aww, scared you'll lose?"

"Fine I'll do it, but don't get mad if he falls in love with me."

"I think I'll survive." Nayeon kept up a strong face, but as per usual, she got too caught up in winning an argument. She didn't actually think Sana would actually follow through on this, but sure enough, Sana followed her into the cab.

You hear the sound of your door creaking open. "Nayeon, is that you?"

"Yea! Sana's here too by the way!"

She must've had too much to drink and was crashing over again. A sigh escapes as you get up to greet the two crazy women.

"Here Sana, you left your pajamas last time, you can sleep in these."

"Oh what's the rush Oppa? Don't you want to have a little fun?" Sana teases you, running her finger up and down your chest.

"You're drunk Sana. Go to bed."

"Oh I'm not drunk at all Oppa. Nayeon brought me back here to suck your cock." She says in the most casual tone, like this was an everyday occurrence.

Your mind races. You can't deny that you've fantasized about Sana before. She's constantly talking about how she gives the best head in the world. But you've never taken her seriously, and you didn't want to ruin your relationship with Nayeon by actually testing the theory.

"What the fuck?" You yell at Nayeon.

"Look," Nayeon starts. "She's just been bragging so much about her fucking amazing skills. I told her to prove she was better than me, and who else would know besides you. It's the perfect solution."

You can't believe the words coming out of her mouth. This had to be a dream. But you know Nayeon is the type of girl who sticks her foot in her mouth. This is real. You can't hide the shock on your face.

"I thought she'd back down, but she's pretty set on doing it."

"Oppa, can I please suck your cock? Pretty please?" Sana pleads. Her eyes are begging.

"Um..." The decision doesn't seem difficult from her perspective, but your heart is pounding like it's a life or death situation.

Without a moment to respond, Sana is already leading you to the couch. In one swift move, she sinks onto her knees, making easy work of your sweatpants, sliding them off completely in a moment. The fabric pools at your ankles as Sana nuzzles her face into your underwear. She eagerly presses her cheek and chin into your groin. You've always appreciated her bubbly, round face, but it takes on an extra definition as it's cradled by your crotch.

She leans back for a moment and you can feel her fingers stroking your cock over your briefs, her eyes filled with childlike glee as they bounce around. Sana licks the front of your underwear and moans with delight as she gets a first taste.

Her slender hands hook into the waistband and gingerly slide it down, holding you steady by the shaft.

"Oppa, it's bigger than I thought." Sana giggles before planting an almost innocent kiss onto the head of your dick.

"What's wrong Sana, don't think you can handle it?" Nayeon scoffs as she plops onto the other end of the couch, her feet tucked into her black skirt.

Sana shoots Nayeon a glare, "Size isn't an issue my dear Nabongs. It's just I haven't really done anything yet and he's so hard already. I love how eager he's being for me."

She emphasizes her last word by rubbing her fingers up your thigh, ending at the base of your shaft, keeping it as straight as possible while her mouth hovers inches above.

"Just suck his cock, I'm not here to watch you talk," Nayeon commands.

"Now, now what's the rush Nayeon?" Sana teases while her hands reach under her shirt and into her bra, tossing them over her shoulder. You're left slack jawed, Sana's cute perky tits previously only a dream. But now they're here, in front of you. She's here, in front of you.

"What's wrong, Oppa?" she whispers "You're acting like you've never seen a pair of tits before." She teases, knowing they're bigger than Nayeon's.

"Do you wanna play with them? It's okay. Here." She pulls your hands towards her, allowing you to squeeze her soft tits.

Your gaze remains locked onto her breasts, unable to fully take in the surreal situation. One second they were out, in a teasing peek and next, you were grasping them like an overeager schoolboy.

"I thought this was about sucking cock Sana."

"Oh Oppa, she's so impatient," Sana whines, "doesn't she know a great blowjob isn't just about sucking cock. It's about the whole experience." Sana teases, placing your cock in-between her breasts, jiggling the skin, stroking you, providing sweet warmth as your tip peaks through with every movement.

"Fuck Sana..."

"Do you like that? Do you like my tits rubbing all over your big hard cock? It's okay if you do."

Nayeon is staring from the corner of your eye. "You're going to have to try harder than that to beat me," she sneers.

"See, he likes it. Isn't that right Oppa?" Sana ignores, bouncing her tits on your cock. "Doesn't that feel nice?" Sana beams at your disheveled face, pleased at your helpless reaction to her tits.

"Mmm, that's so hot, Oppa. It feels so warm sliding up and down." She interlocks her hands together, squeezing her tits together. Her tits aren't big enough to fully cover you, but it's just enough. Your cock presses into the valley of her cleavage as she starts fucking them against you, and a sight unlike any other. Sana has been teasing Nayeon this whole time but when she says those last few words, the sneer and confidence falls off her face, turning into an unadulterated gape.

Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip whenever it pops up from her squishy embrace. "Mmm, Oppa, I can taste you already." Sana kisses your slit with a hungry moan, letting some saliva drip down her chin and onto the space between her breast.

"Uggh. Can you fucking suck it already." You can hear the impatience in Nayeon's tone, finally losing all pretense and sincerity.

"This is just an appetizer," Sana interjects, stopping her jerking movements. A smirk on her lips and and naughty look emerges on her face.

"Oh my god Oppa, I can't believe how wet I am. Look." She slips a hand into her pants, and then takes it out, her fingers glistening with her juices. You look down, seeing your cock still poking up from between her tits, but also her fingers, coated with her juices.

"Here have a taste."Sana brings her index and middle finger to your mouth, gently pushing the liquid inside, tracing your lips as you gulp down her arousal.

She squeals in joy. "Oh Oppa, how naughty of you. Do you like the way I taste, hmm?" Her voice coos, watching your reactions. It's like you're drunk, entranced by the sight before you, stuck in a euphoric daze. Sana's so fucking sexy it makes you wonder if there is any woman alive that could top this.

"Come on Sana, quit fucking around." Nayeon sighs with annoyance.

"Silly, silly Nayeon, the key is making them beg. Don't you want Oppa begging for it?" Sana giggles.

"If there's not some cock sucking action I'm gonna declare myself as the winner."

"So impatient. Ok Oppa, let's give Nayeonie a show she won't forget." Sana gets back between your legs and takes a deep breath, inhaling your musk.

"Oh my god, Oppa, your scent is so intoxicating." Her hot breath is blowing against your cock. "I can't wait any longer. I need to taste you." She places a kiss on the tip, then another, then another, each time lingering a little longer than the last. The tip of her tongue slides along the sides of your cock as Sana explores with a curious excitement.

Nayeon scowls. "So your fucking blow job is going to be taking all day."

"He's just soooo hard." Sana caresses the throbbing appendage with admiration. Her right hand strokes your inner thigh in long soothing motions, the pads of her fingers tracing lines up and down your tense muscle.

It's slow, torturously slow. Light kisses and licks cover every surface of your cock, the feel of her tongue now a sensation rather than individual touches. Her tongue starts to flick against the underside of your tip, sending a shock through your body. You can feel the warmth of her breath, the pressure of her tongue. Her eye contact is unwavering, rubbing your thighs up and down with her soft hands.

You and Sana are now in your own world. A private space for the two of you, separated by both time and distance.

There's an excruciating pause. The room stills. There's no sounds, no movement. Her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. You're frozen. You can't breath, can't blink. It's an eternity.

The air moves with the slow grace of a dancer as she sucks you between her lips. Her eyes light up when the tip meets her tongue. Sana sighs, relaxing her shoulders. She lets herself get lost, transported by her desire. With the slow rhythm of a slow song, she slowly sinks lower, deeper.

Sana is worshiping your cock, treating it like it's the only one in the world. She's moaning and humming, sending vibrations through your shaft. As great as it feels, there's a special technique about her, knowing exactly how to keep you from cumming. As if she's been with you for years. She reaches for your hands, interlocking your fingers together, making this feel like a tender loving moment rather than just your run of the mill blowjob.

Her eyes remain fixated on yours, never even once breaking focus. It's one continuous moment until she pulls back for breath. A thick, translucent web stretches between the two of you. A dewy layer of spit is now surrounding your cock, dripping off the sides of her lips. You can feel the edges of her lips form a perfect ring as your cock passes between her lips. She is hypnotic, the speed is torture, but it's impossible to stop looking.

She lets you go, slowly inching up until she's next to your ear. "Oppa, can I tell you a secret?" She's whispering, like she's scared Nayeon will hear.

"Sure."

"I really love doing this, especially when it's a cock like yours. I can't wait to make you cum. I can't wait for you to explode in my mouth.

"I can't either."

"But I wanna make you wait a little bit, cause when you finally cum, it's going to be amazing." She trails a string of saliva down from your ear, running her finger past the puddle of spit still leaking off her chin and finally across your balls. She pecks her lips on the underside of the head, all the while looking like a kid about to play with their new toy.

Nayeon hits you. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Um...yeah," You whisper back. You've nearly forgotten she's here.

She seems satisfied at your answer, but it feels weird admitting that in front of her.

Sana's right back into action, your fingers still interlocked so she's using only her mouth. This time she's focusing on the tip, flicking her tongue and sucking on your head.

"Fuck Sana..."

She chuckles, feeling accomplished, her grin big as can be. The two of you resume your rhythm as you grind your cock against her welcoming cheeks. Slowly working her way down the shaft until her mouth is about halfway down. She inhales, breathing deeply, smiling even with her mouth full.

"God, I love your scent." she moans out seductively on her way back up. The hot air of her words permeate and swirl with your sweat. Her pace is further teasing, steady at first then almost playful as she slows and pauses, relishing the torment it has on you. You can feel her tongue working its way down, swirling around your cock. You're so close to bursting, but she knows just when to stop. Her hands pull away, squeezing your balls, ignoring your shaft, focusing all her attention on them. She's cupping them, massaging them, using her tongue on the one not attended by her hands.

Her hot, wet tongue tickles and warms them as she begins sucking and groping, working in unison. Knowing it felt good, but wouldn't cause you to cum. It's a change in tempo, something else to enjoy until it was time again.

"You're gonna be a good boy and hold out until I've shown Nayeon all my skills right?"

"Oh, so he's your new puppy. At least he's useful," Nayeon is curious, testing the waters, seeing how much she can push her.

Her fingers are tracing circles around your balls, sending shivers up your spine. Her other hand is slowly jerking up and down, sizing you up, using her hand to measure your cock.

"I think I can fit you." Sana calmly states, flashing a wink.

"What? What does that mean?" Nayeon yells out.

"Shush, Nayeon, let me concentrate." She tells her off and returns her eyes to you. They're dark and hungry.

Her hands position the tip between her puckered lips. Nayeon stares at the scene unfolding before her, feeling the waves of lust emanating off of Sana. She's got her hands wrapped around your shaft, holding it like a weapon. Your heart races, eyes closed, feeling the pleasure pulse.

You feel a rush, an impending doom, but one you welcome. A moment of heaven, a moment of hell, it doesn't matter to you. Lower and lower she goes, only a couple inches in and you're already overwhelmed. A surreal bliss radiates, filling your mind with an unbelievable pleasure.

There's moaning and slurping, the sound of her muffled voice vibrating through you. She's going further, inch by inch, her eyes locked with yours, fitting more of your cock into her throat every time she goes back down.

Her pace remains the same as ever, steady and sure. A thrust in, followed by a drag out. Up and down, the same torturous speed, letting the sensation flow through your entire body. There's a smug grin, prideful smile, confident in herself. Her hands roaming your inner thighs, content with her conquest, basking in it.

Nayeon stares, but with a different emotion. You feel the heat of her gaze, the anger behind them.

"It's not possible. His dick is way too big. It'll never fit. I've never even been able to-"

"Hush, Nayeon, we're not talking about you right now." She chides. Her voice is softer, kinder, the commanding tone dropping slightly.

Sana's pace quickens, the sound of her gagging and choking fills the room. Drool is dripping down her chin, and she's going faster and faster. Her nails dig into your thighs, her eyes tearing up as she forces her mouth all the way down. Her cheeks are puffed up and bulging, her neck stretches out.

"Holy shit, Sana." Nayeon jumps out of her seat, her eyes wide.

"Holy shit," you echo, feeling her sharp pointed nose tickling pressing into you.

Her tongue is jittering from the girth filling her mouth, sending wonderful vibrations through you. There's a grunt, she's struggling, straining. Sana holds it there for what seems like forever. Your cock is being squeezed by her throat, and you can feel every breath, every twitch, every swallow. After an eternity, she slides back up, and releases your cock from her throat. A string of spit and precum follows, breaking as she licks her lips. Sana looks pleased with herself, savoring the sight before her.

"Holy fucking shit," Nayeon can't hide the shock, can't help but step closer to get a better look at the ridiculous sight.

"I told you size wouldn't be an issue." Sana winks at Nayeon.

Nayeon scoffs, folding her arms in annoyance.

"Oh Oppa, do you like seeing Nayeon pout? That's such a cute look on her."

There's a few minutes of respite, Sana sucking you down every once in a while but nothing more. It gives you a chance to breathe, a moment to process. The image before you is difficult to process, as if you're having an out of body experience.

"Let me try again. It'll be easier the second time." She's not lying. The next time is even smoother. Her throat is slick with spit and precum, and your cock slides in like a knife through butter. There's sucking and slurping, coating your cock with her saliva. She's going up and down, over and over, and the pleasure is insane.

It's not like she doesn't have a gag reflex, she's using it to her advantage. She's gagging on your cock, spit leaking everywhere, the sounds of her throat a sinful delight. After taking a deep breath her head becomes a blur going faster and faster. Your cock is disappearing and reappearing, over and over again. You can't believe the sight before you. Sana, the picture perfect idol, is deepthroating your cock, gagging and choking herself over and over. Her hands have abandoned you, caressing her throat, stroking where you cock is pushing her insides outward.

She looks up at you with her pretty, innocent eyes. The term cutie sexy starts to make sense, so adorable, yet obscene, like an angel became a slut. You're groaning, and panting, stuck in an endless maze of pleasure.

She's drooling, saliva dripping down your balls to her chin, not even bothering to wipe her mouth. She just keeps bobbing her head up and down, faster and faster, moaning like a pornstar. You can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Your cock is throbbing and twitching. You're on the precipice of climax. You can't hold it back any longer.

She brings her mouth up, making a loud pop as she slips you out of her lips. "Oh no Oppa, you can't cum yet. Not until I've showed off all my skills to Nayeon." holding your cock in her hand and slapping it against her tongue.

"What are you doing?" Nayeon questions her, unsure on what else Sana has to show.

"Shush Nayeon, It's only the second round, and I promised Oppa three. This one is my favorite." She coos to you, sweetly kissing your tip.

"Stand up Oppa." You stand before her, looking down on her beautiful messy face. She places your hands on her head.

"Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Oppa?" Sana teases. "Here, grab my hair and shove it in."

You're stunned. This is all happening so fast.

"Come on Oppa, fuck my mouth." She takes your cock back into her mouth, and you feel the pressure from her hands pulling you forward.

There's hesitation on your side, a lingering reservation, a fear of overdoing it. You're a bit unsure, you've never been deepthroated before, yet alone fucked someone's face. You're afraid to hurt her.

Her lips curl upward, smiling like an eager puppy, letting your cock rest, leaving you suspended. With your grip still on her head, Sana waits for you.

"Come on Oppa," Nayeon snarls, "stop being such a pussy. You know she can take it. She just swallowed your whole damn cock in one go. Stop being a little bitch and fuck her face."

You thrust forward, and immediately the pleasure is overwhelming. Her hands are still pushing, and now your hands are pulling. You're thrusting and pulling, fucking her face. The feeling is unlike anything you've felt before. It's wet and sloppy, the sounds of her mouth a depraved melody. Your hips are moving faster and faster, her eyes are wide and full of lust, begging for you to use her.

The reality of the situation sinks in as Sana sucks harder and harder.

You're facefucking Sana. You're fucking an idol with every inch of your hard cock. She's pushing her head into your crotch and you're burying her face.

You're not gentle, you can't be. It's so wet and hot, and the sensation is insane. Her nails are digging into your thighs, and you're grunting and groaning, pounding her throat like an animal. She's slapping her face against your crotch, taking everything you're giving her. She's choking and gagging, drool pouring from her mouth. Her fingers are exploring, stroking the bottom of her throat and her neck.

You're groaning. This is not a blowjob this is something else altogether. Your hands are tight on her head and your mind is hazy. You're so turned on by her. You're mesmerized by her. You can't stop fucking her mouth. She's moaning and crying, but tells you to fuck her harder every time you pull out. You're focused solely on Sana and her perfect mouth. She's not even sucking - just letting you use her mouth as a cocksleeve. Her tongue is flicking over your tip whenever it enters her mouth. And it's so fucking hot.

You're at your limit. You can't hold it in anymore. You're gonna explode. And then Sana wraps her hands around your ass and squeezes, pulling you closer, forcing you to push deeper into her mouth, your balls pressed against her chin.

"Sana, I'm gonna -"

And that's her cue, her throat constricting and contracting, massaging your head while it's buried deep inside. You didn't even know this was possible. Her final trick. Her ace in the hole. A sense of pleasure that previously only existed beyond your wildest dreams. Your body tenses, and then you let go, the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, mouth or otherwise. The world goes white and the only thing you're aware of is the warmth and wetness of Sana's throat.

Cum explodes into her mouth, filling her up. She can't take it all, it's too much, and she coughs, and chokes. She pulls off, harshly stroking your cock with her hand. You're still cumming, some landing on her face, her tits, in her hair. Your entire body is shaking.

"Fuck," you groan, collapsing onto the couch. She taps on your thighs and opens her mouth, showing you the pool of creamy liquid collected on her tongue.

"Oppa, you came so much!" she says after gulping down the mouthful.

"I swallowed so much and there's still so much on me." She's scooping your cum off her face, licking her fingers clean, moaning with every drop she swallows. Her breasts are covered, and she's gathering as much of it as she can, putting her hands between her legs, scooping up any drops that landed on her thighs. She takes your hand and puts it on her chest, covering her nipple with your cum, rubbing it around her nipple, teasing it with your sticky seed.

"I told you Nayeon! An explosion! Cum everywhere!" Sana winks and teases her with a wag of her tongue.

Nayeon rolls her eyes.

Sana goes back for more, sucking your cock until every last drop has been extracted. She's cleaning you off with her tongue, kissing the head of your cock, and then she's rubbing her face on it, like a cat nuzzling her owner. "Mmm so good," she coos.

"That's enough, you've proven your point."

"Aww, but Nayeon, look how cute he is, all tired and sweaty." Sana pouts, giving your cock one last kiss before getting up.

"Yeah, well, you look like a total slut." Nayeon snaps. "Seriously, you've got cum all over your face, your hair's a mess. Not to mention, there's a fucking puddle of spit on the floor."

"So?"

"So? Do you have any idea what would happen if someone saw you like this?"

"They'd fall in love with me." Sana teases. "Oppa did."

"Don't give me that shit. You know what? Fine, you proved your point. I guess I owe you a favor." Nayeon takes a deep breath and then exhales, bracing herself. "Whatever you want, just do it quick, and don't tell anyone, okay."

"I'm so fucking horny after all of that." She looks at you, then back at Nayeon. "Threesome?" She's fluttering her eyelashes, acting more innocent than she has all evening.

"Th-threesome?" You stammer.

"Of course." Sana says, matter of factly. "You didn't think I was going to leave without taking care of myself did you?"

"Wait a second, I never said I'd do that!"

"Come on, we're both so horny, I'll bet Oppa is hard again just thinking about us making out. I bet he's already got a load saved up. Besides, he's already fucked my throat. How much worse could it get?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Please? Please, please, please? Pretty please, Nayeon? Oh, does this help? I swear I have the best pussy around, guys can't help but explode inside of me. Want me to prove it?" She was stripping as she spoke, not a shred of shyness or timidness anywhere to be seen.

"Oppa, look." She moans, sliding her fingers out and showing the string of sticky fluids connected to them. "Look how wet I am. You did this to me. All that talk about cocks and cumming. I'm so fucking horny. And it's all because of you." She slides her fingers back inside, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "I'm so close to cumming."

"You're the worst." Nayeon snaps, grabbing her hand and pulling it out of her pussy. "Fine, whatever, but only cuz you won the bet. I'm not doing this because I want to."

"I love you, Nayeonie!" Sana squeals, throwing her arms around her friend. "Come on Oppa! Don't leave us hanging. We'll be waiting in your room." Sana grabs her clothes and skips away, leaving Nayeon alone with you.

"This is such bullshit. Why did she have to be so good at that? Ugh.." Nayeon mumbles. "Come on, I don't wanna keep her waiting...."

#sana smut #twice sana smut

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