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the-offside-rule · 5 months ago

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Lando Norris (McLaren) - Sports Car

The sequel to Two Hands

Two Hands Part I, Part II

Y/n sat in the dimly lit studio, headphones snug over her ears, as the beat played for what felt like the hundredth time. She leaned back in her chair, mouthing along to the lyrics she'd scribbled down a few hours earlier, occasionally tweaking a word or two in her notebook. The explicit undertones of the song didn’t faze her; it was raw, honest, and unapologetic, just like she wanted it to be. She hit replay again and again, trying to perfect every detail.

The door to the studio creaked open, and Y/n barely looked up as her best friend, Tate, strolled in holding two iced coffees. "Still working on that song, huh?" Tate teased, plopping down on the couch and pulling her phone out. "Yup." Y/n replied without missing a beat, scribbling something down and playing the demo back for the umpteenth time.

Tate listened in silence for a moment, her thumbs flying across her phone screen. But the more she absorbed the lyrics, the more her jaw slowly dropped. By the time Y/n got to the second chorus, Tate was staring at her like she’d grown another head.

"Are we gonna just ignore the elephant in the room right now?" Tate finally said, setting her phone down. Y/n arched a brow, leaning back in her chair. "What?" Y/n asked. "What?" Tate echoed in the same tone, letting out a disbelieving laugh. "This song! Who is this about, and why are you suddenly… so worked up?" Y/n rolled her eyes, spinning her chair lazily to face her friend. "It’s nothing. Just… a song."

Tate snorted, crossing her arms. "Right. A song that happens to be very… explicit about what you want to do to someone. Come on, Y/n. We both know it's about Papaya." Y/n rolled her eyes at the code name they gave Lando. It wasn't practical or secretive in any way possible. It was so dumb. And yet, the mention of his code name, Y/n’s cheeks warmed, but she shrugged it off. "It’s not about anyone in particular. It's...I don't know. It's just setting the tone for the album, I guess." She said, avoiding Tate’s knowing gaze. "Besides, it’s not like I’m going to see him anytime soon. We only ever run into each other at races."

Tate narrowed her eyes, sliding the iced coffee across the table to her. "Uh-huh. Sure. But, girl, you need to stop lying to yourself. If this song is even half as honest as your feelings, you’re clearly still thinking about him. Just tell him what you want, he’s not a mind reader." Y/n sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. "I’m not telling him anything, Tate. It’s never going to go anywhere. We’re both too busy, and I’m not about to complicate things."

Tate groaned, throwing her head back. "Fine, fine. But let me see what you’ve got so far." She grabbed the notebook from the desk before Y/n could protest. Her eyes widened as she read the first line aloud. "Hey, cute jeans, take mine off me?" She burst out laughing, nearly dropping the notebook. "Are you kidding me?" Y/n shrugged, smirking. "You told me to be honest, so… that’s the energy I’m bringing to this song."

Tate kept flipping through the pages, her laughter growing louder. "Pretty blue streetlights and my hazel eyes, and if it feels right, we could go again like 3 or 4 more times? Y/n, who are you?" Y/n winked, leaning back in her chair. "My favourite part is the next bit. "On the corner of my bed, or maybe on the beach, you could do it on your own, while you're looking at- oh my god!" Tate squealed, chuking the notebook onto the table. "Think he’ll pick up on the hints?" Tate stared at her, utterly dumbfounded, before bursting into another fit of laughter. "This is not a hint, this is an open invitation. But honestly? If this doesn’t get his attention, nothing will."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Max Fewtrell’s stream was buzzing with activity. Thousands of viewers flooded the chat, firing off questions for him and his guest, none other than Lando Norris. The two were sitting in Max’s gaming setup, laughing about something dumb when a specific question caught Max’s eye. "Oi, Lando." Max said, grinning mischievously as he leaned closer to his monitor. "Chat wants to know what you think about Tate and Y/n’s new song."

Lando blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "They has a new song?" Max turned to him, his brows shooting up. "Mate, where have you been? It’s everywhere. There’s a music video too." Lando leaned back in his chair, his interest piqued. "Oh, I didn’t know. I mean, I like their stuff so… yeah, put it on I guess." He said ruffling his curls. "Alright, chat." Max said, smirking as he pulled up the song. "Let’s see what all the hype is about."

The track began, the sultry beat filling the room. On the screen, the music video played, showing Y/n moving effortlessly to the rhythm. Lando’s eyes were glued to the screen, his focus narrowing in on every word she sang and every move she made. "Hey, cute jeans, take mine off me." Y/n’s voice purred, her tone teasing yet commanding. Max burst out laughing, glancing at Lando. "This is… uh, quite forward, huh?" Lando, however, was silent, his gaze locked on the screen.

In the alley in the back

In the centre of this room,

With the windows rolled down,

Boy, don't make me choose

As the video continued, the lyrics grew bolder, the visuals more suggestive, and Lando couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up his neck.

Pretty blue streetlights and my hazel eyes,

And if it feels right, we could go again like 3 or 4 times.

Max snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. "Well, I mean, they know what they want." Lando let's out a soft chuckle at his remark.

On the corner of my bed,

Oh and maybe on the beach,

You can do it on your own,

While you're looking at me

Lando finally tore his gaze from the screen, a small, almost shy smile on his face. "Its a good song, actually." He smiles as the music seems to fade away for the time being. "You’ve met that one, right?" Max asked casually, still watching the video. Lando nodded. "Yeah, briefly. In Vegas."

"Vegas, huh? Sounds like a story there." Max wiggled his eyebrows knowing exactly what happened, but Lando just laughed it off, shaking his head. "Nah, nothing like that. She’s cool, though."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/n and Tate were watching the stream from her apartment, Tate’s laptop propped up on the coffee table. At first, they’d been laughing at Max’s antics, but as Lando’s voice filled the room, the mood shifted. Tate frowned, glancing at Y/n. "Briefly? That’s all he’s going to say? What about everything else? The flirting, the sneaking ro his hotel room, the…" Y/n waved her off, her expression unreadable. "Doesn’t matter."

"It does, though." Tate pressed. "You’ve got to say something. You can’t just let this keep happening." Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You’re right. It’s time I did something about this." Tate’s eyes widened, a mix of excitement and disbelief on her face. "Wait, are you saying you’re finally going to tell him how you feel?" Y/n scoffed, looking almost repulsed by the idea. "God, no." Tate frowned. "Then what are you going to do?"

Y/n’s lips curled into a sly smile, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes. "I have a better idea."

#lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #two hands #sports car #tate mcrae

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shy9-29 · 3 months ago

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You Talk Too Much, But Some How I Fell For You

日 — A sequel to ‘Do You Ever Shut Up?”

Before you could finish, his lips were on yours, silencing everything, and for the first time, you didn’t mind the chaos he brought. 📝: i recommend you read the first part in order to understand this. You can read it here — wc 5.2 ୨ৎ 심재윤 x reader

The next day felt… off.

You couldn’t place it right away, but there was a tension in the air—thicker than usual. Jake showed up to tutoring a little late, hair tousled like he’d been rushing, a half-hearted grin on his face. But something in his eyes didn’t match it.

You didn’t say anything right away. You just watched him settle into the chair beside you, backpack dropped carelessly to the floor. For once, he didn’t immediately launch into a story or random fact or his usual chaotic energy.

He was quiet.

You blinked.

The silence stretched longer than it should have. He pulled out his notebook but just stared at the page like it might write itself. You kept stealing glances, waiting for him to crack a joke or ramble about his annoying brother or ask why your handwriting looked like it belonged in a textbook. But he didn’t.

So you finally broke the silence, voice low. “What’s wrong?”

Jake’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time in a while, he looked… guarded.

“Nothing,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing. Not in the slightest. He looked back down, biting his bottom lip like he was holding something back.

You hesitated. Your fingers fidgeted with the corner of your notebook. “Jake.”

He sighed. “I just… I overheard something. Today.”

You tilted your head slightly, waiting.

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Some people in my class were talking about you. About us. Saying you were just… tutoring me because you had to. That someone like you wouldn’t actually give a damn about someone like me unless it was an obligation.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that even mean?”

Jake looked up, eyes a little more serious than you were used to seeing. “It means they think I’m not worth your time.”

You sat in silence, that familiar stillness wrapping around you again, but this time it was heavier. This wasn’t something you could brush off with a quiet nod or a small smile.

“Do you believe them?” you asked finally.

He looked at you for a long moment. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like you don’t even like me. You just sit there and stare. You barely talk. I’m always the one trying. Always talking. And you just… watch.”

You swallowed hard. His words stung more than you expected.

“I never asked you to try,” you said, your voice quiet but sharp. “You just started showing up and talking and… and I didn’t know what to do with it.”

Jake blinked, taken aback.

“I’m not good at people, Jake. I’ve never been,” you continued, fingers curling tightly around your pen. “You’re loud and warm and messy and you talk so much it gives me a headache—but I never told you to stop.”

He stayed quiet, eyes fixed on you now.

“Do you know how many times I could’ve asked the teacher to reassign you?” you whispered. “I didn’t. Not once.”

Jake looked like he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come.

The silence between you stretched, raw and aching.

And then, without warning, he stood up, grabbing his bag.

“I should go,” he said, voice low. “I think I just need some space.”

Your heart sank as you watched him walk toward the door—no grin, no jokes, no noise.

Just silence.

And for once, you hated it.

You sat on your bed later that night, phone in hand, the dim screen lighting up your face. You stared at the empty chat window on Instagram for what felt like the hundredth time. Your messages were still sitting there—unread.

yn: Jake?

yn: Hey.

yn: I didn’t mean it like that.

yn: Are you okay?

yn: Can we just talk?

yn: Please.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, thumb hovering over the keyboard as if one more message might change something. You had never been the type to chase after people. Never the one to send desperate messages or double-text anyone—let alone Jake.

But here you were.

Spamming his DMs.

And still, nothing.

Not even a “seen.”

You dropped your phone on the bed beside you with a sigh, rubbing your hands over your face.

He always replied—sometimes with five voice notes back-to-back or ten messages in a row about something random like what color pens you used or how weird your math handwriting looked. But now?

Silence.

Your chest tightened, the same way it did when a teacher called on you unexpectedly in class, or when a loud group of students passed by while you had your earbuds in.

Except this silence felt worse.

Because it wasn’t peaceful.

It felt like losing something you didn’t even realize you’d gotten attached to.

The next morning came way too fast.

You barely slept, tossing and turning, checking your phone more times than you’d admit to anyone—not that you would’ve told anyone about this anyway. About him.

At school, it was almost surreal how normal everything looked. Same halls, same classrooms, same buzz of teenage voices you tried your best to tune out.

Except… Jake wasn’t at his locker.

You walked by slowly, eyes flicking toward the empty space he usually occupied. No loud laugh echoing down the corridor, no Sunoo leaning against the wall, mock-scolding him for being late or chaotic or Jake.

You told yourself you didn’t care. That you were fine.

Until you walked into homeroom.

And there he was.

Already in his seat, hood up, eyes glued to his desk. No jokes. No chatter. Not even a glance in your direction.

You hesitated in the doorway for a second too long before quietly sliding into your seat a few rows behind him. Your fingers tapped anxiously on the edge of your notebook.

Maybe he hadn’t seen the messages. Maybe he had. Maybe—

The bell rang. The teacher started talking. You didn’t hear a word.

When class ended, Jake stood before you even got the chance to pack up. You opened your mouth, but he was already halfway out the door.

You followed him—something you never did—out into the hallway.

“Jake,” you called softly.

He paused but didn’t turn around.

You caught up to him, stopping a few feet away. “I texted you.”

“I know,” he said, still not looking at you. His voice wasn’t cold—it was tired. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You usually don’t shut up,” you said without thinking.

That made him turn, his brows raised. You couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh or cry. “Yeah. Well, I figured for once maybe I should listen.”

You stared at each other for a beat, your heart thudding.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” you said quietly. “About us not being friends. About you being too much.”

Jake looked down at his hands. “Maybe I am too much. For you.”

You wanted to scream. No. You’re the only person who ever made the silence bearable.

Instead, you whispered, “You’re the only person who’s ever talked to me like I mattered.”

That shut him up.

For a second, the noise of the hallway faded, and it was just the two of you standing there in your bubble of tension and quiet truths.

Jake opened his mouth, eyes softening. “Then why’d you push me away?”

You swallowed. “Because I didn’t know what to do with it. With you. I don’t talk much. You talk all the time. You’re chaos. I’m… not.”

His lips twitched slightly, like he wanted to smile.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you added.

“I know,” he said finally, voice low. “I just… it sucked. Hearing all that stuff. And then it felt like maybe you believed it too.”

“I didn’t,” you said, more firmly than you’d meant. “Not even for a second.”

Jake nodded slowly.

“Tutoring?” you asked quietly.

He finally looked you in the eye again. “Your place?”

You gave the faintest smile. “Only if you promise not to talk the whole time.”

Jake grinned—soft, crooked, and full of something you’d missed more than you realized. “No promises.”

And just like that, the noise came back. But this time, it didn’t feel so loud.

Later that afternoon, he showed up at your front door with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a convenience store bag in the other.

“For the record,” he said the moment you opened the door, “I brought snacks so you wouldn’t yell at me for distracting you.”

You arched a brow, stepping aside wordlessly to let him in.

“Not even a ‘hi, Jake’? No ‘wow, thanks for the snacks’? Cold,” he mumbled dramatically, kicking off his shoes.

You just closed the door and led the way to the dining table, where your books were already spread out. He dropped his stuff with a thud and pulled out a chair, already talking again.

“I was thinking on the way here—what if I’m just destined to be mediocre at math? Like, what if I peaked in multiplication tables? That would explain so much—”

“Jake,” you said, voice calm but firm.

He paused mid-rant, blinking at you. “Yeah?”

You pointed to his workbook. “Start.”

He grinned, dramatically sighing like it physically hurt him. “You wound me.”

But he opened the workbook anyway, pen tapping the side of the page as he glanced over the first question. “Okay but—wait, quick thing before we start. Do you think people who cry at movies are emotionally evolved or just dramatic?”

You stared at him, unblinking.

Jake snorted. “Okay, okay! I’m starting. Look—numbers, wow, amazing.”

Despite yourself, a laugh bubbled in your throat, and you tried to stifle it with your hand. He glanced up just in time to catch it.

“Was that a giggle?” he asked, eyes lighting up. “Did I make the stoic, unbothered Y/N laugh?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “You’re so annoying.”

Jake beamed. “But you’re laughing. That’s like… progress.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus again, but your gaze kept drifting back to him. The way his mouth moved when he talked. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too hard. His voice, animated and bright and always a little too loud—but weirdly comforting now.

You didn’t even realize you were staring again until he suddenly stopped talking.

“What?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You blinked. “Nothing.”

“You were doing the thing,” he said, leaning forward a little. “The staring thing.”

“I don’t stare.”

“You absolutely do.”

You gave a half-shrug. “You’re just… loud.”

Jake smiled softly, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you this time.

“Maybe you don’t talk a lot,” he said, “but you don’t really have to. I think I like hearing myself enough for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes again—but this time, you were smiling.

And for a little while, the session continued like that. Him talking, you listening. You correcting his work, him getting distracted, and you pretending to be annoyed even though your heart felt warm in a way you hadn’t expected.

He made the noise bearable.

And somewhere in the middle of all the chaos, you started to look forward to the sound.

The next session, he brought bubble tea.

He held it up like a peace offering when you opened the door, eyes gleaming. “Figured I’d bribe you into liking me more.”

You stared at him, unamused, then slowly reached out and took the cup from his hand. He grinned like that alone was a victory.

As usual, Jake made himself at home—kicked off his shoes, dropped his backpack somewhere it didn’t belong, talked the entire way into the dining room.

“I swear, my brother was trying to fight me over the last slice of pizza yesterday. Like, full-on WWE-level drama. I don’t know what they’re putting in Gen Alpha juice boxes but that kid’s wild. He hit me with a Nerf bat. Twice. In the face.”

You sat down quietly, sipping your drink, watching him like always.

Jake opened his book but didn’t even glance at it. “Also, you ever think about how weird elbows are? Like, who designed them? Mine make this gross clicking sound every time I—”

You leaned over the table and kissed him again.

He let out a muffled “Mmph?” mid-sentence, startled but smiling the second you pulled back.

“You’re doing it again,” he said breathlessly, eyes bright.

“You’re talking again,” you murmured.

“Talking is literally the best part of me.”

You gave him a look, like exactly, but said nothing.

Jake stared at you for a second, then smirked. “Are you trying to train me like a dog? Every time I yap too much, you just reward me with a kiss?”

You didn’t answer. Just took a slow sip of your drink, eyes not leaving his.

He was quiet for maybe five whole seconds.

“That’s kind of cute,” he whispered.

Another kiss. Quick. Sharp. Shut-him-up-style.

Jake leaned back in his chair, completely dazed. “Wow. You are dangerously powerful. I’m in love and terrified.”

You hid your smile behind the cup.

Tutoring didn’t improve much after that—not academically, at least. But the sessions got warmer. Softer. Still noisy on his end, still quiet on yours.

And Jake, for all his dramatic rambling, never once complained about the silence between your kisses.

Because for once, he finally understood what your silence meant.

Next session, it was raining.

He showed up with wet hair, hoodie clinging slightly to his arms, and a plastic bag held over his head like it’d done anything to help. “This storm’s got main character energy,” he announced as you opened the door.

You stepped aside wordlessly, handing him a towel without needing to be asked.

He grinned—just a little—as he ran the towel over his hair. “See? We’re already a domestic couple.”

You said nothing, but your eyes lingered on him longer than usual. He caught it, of course he did, but didn’t tease you this time.

Instead, he was quiet. For Jake, anyway.

Once you were both seated at the table, pens and notebooks laid out (barely touched), he fiddled with the cap of his pen, not looking at you.

“So, uh…” he started, voice uncharacteristically careful. “What are we?”

Your fingers paused on the corner of your notebook.

Jake kept his eyes down. “Like… I know we’re not just tutoring buddies. And we’ve kissed, like—okay, a lot. And I like you. A lot.” He gave a tiny breath of a laugh. “I think you figured that out by now.”

You were silent.

Too silent.

The rain tapped softly against the windows as the weight of your quiet stretched out, thick and suffocating. You weren’t looking at him. You weren’t even blinking.

Jake’s fingers stopped fidgeting. Slowly, he raised his eyes to yours, searching.

“…Do you not want to define it?” he asked, voice gentler this time. “Or is it just nothing to you?”

Your throat tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Not yet. Not like this.

He waited.

But the silence stayed.

After a moment, Jake leaned back in his chair, looking off to the side. “Got it,” he mumbled. “Loud and clear.”

He didn’t sound mad. Just… dimmer.

Like someone had turned down the brightness on his entire personality. His usual bounce was gone, replaced with something smaller, more careful. He didn’t make another joke. He didn’t even reach for his pen again.

And for once, you hated the silence.

Because this time, it wasn’t peaceful.

It was him pulling away—and you weren’t sure how to stop it.

The next session came faster than you expected.

You half-expected him not to show up at all. But there he was—Jake, in all his loud, chaotic glory, walking into your house with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and a voice turned up to distract himself more than you.

He dropped his bag a little harder than usual, flopped into the chair dramatically, and before you could even say hi (not that you were going to), he started.

“I mean, I wasn’t expecting a love confession or anything,” he said, hands gesturing wildly. “But I dunno, maybe a head nod? A blink? Something? Like, am I crazy for thinking we were more than just academic allies?”

You stared at him, deadpan.

Jake leaned forward on his elbows, looking at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “Do you even like me? Or is this, like, your idea of emotional enrichment? I talk, you kiss me when I get too annoying, and boom—we’re healed?”

Your eyes narrowed, lips twitching just slightly.

He didn’t stop.

“Because like, don’t get me wrong, I love the kissing. Really, I could major in it if that were a thing, but emotionally? I’m spiraling a little. It’s like I’m falling and you’re just—standing there, watching, silently judging my form. 10/10 for style, 2/10 for clarity.”

You stood up slowly, walked over to where he sat, and leaned down.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “don’t just—”

You kissed him.

Harder than usual. Not just to shut him up—though it definitely worked—but to tell him all the things you couldn’t say. All the things your mouth refused to form into words.

Jake froze for a second, lips caught in surprise, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should pull you closer or question his entire reality.

When you pulled back, breath slightly shaky, he blinked up at you.

“…What,” he breathed. “Was that a yes? Or, like, a tactical distraction?”

You didn’t say anything. Just tilted your head slightly, like you figure it out.

Jake opened his mouth to speak again.

You kissed him.

Again.

When you pulled away this time, he was flushed and staring at you like he couldn’t tell if you were a dream or a walking glitch in the matrix.

“You’re so confusing,” he whispered, completely dazed.

And you… you just smiled a little. Not much. Just enough to make him forget what he was mad about.

He stayed longer than usual that evening.

Not that you said anything about it—of course you didn’t. But you didn’t tell him to leave either. And Jake, being Jake, filled the silence with whatever words his brain could string together.

Which was… a lot.

“I’m just saying,” he started while nibbling on a cookie from your kitchen, “communication is like… super important in relationships. Even weird academic, kiss-heavy ones like ours. You can’t just keep silencing me with your mouth—okay wait, that came out wrong—”

You sighed, snatched the cookie bag from him, and tossed it to the far end of the table.

He blinked. “Was that flirting? Or are you mad again? Genuinely asking for clarity, because you’re really hard to read and I already overthink everything—”

You kissed him again. Short. Sharp. A little impatient.

He made a noise halfway between a gasp and a sigh. “That’s not an answer!”

You didn’t move.

Jake narrowed his eyes at you, lips slightly swollen, hair a bit messy from your earlier grab. “Y’know, I think you’re emotionally allergic to speaking.”

You shrugged.

He groaned and slumped against the chair dramatically. “This is psychological warfare.”

But he was smiling. Wide. That kind of smile that didn’t need words because it said I’m still here and you’re worth the chaos.

You sat back down, opening your notebook finally, pen in hand.

Jake leaned across the table, resting his chin in his palm. “Do you… ever think you’ll say something? Like, actual words? Or is this just our thing now? You look mysterious and beautiful and I lose brain cells?”

You looked up. Stared at him with that unreadable face again.

Jake blinked, already bracing.

Then, softly—barely above a whisper—you said, “Maybe.”

His entire body froze.

“…Maybe?!” he repeated, eyes wide. “Hold on—was that your voice? Did I hallucinate?”

You turned the page in your notebook, pretending to read.

Jake gasped, clutching his chest like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “You can speak! Oh my god. This is bigger than anything. I need to document this moment—where’s my phone? Sunoo’s never gonna believe me—”

You reached over, curled your fingers in the front of his hoodie, and pulled him into another kiss. A longer one this time.

He melted instantly, mid-rant, like all the words he had lined up just floated out of his brain.

When you pulled away, you were still quiet. Still unreadable.

Jake looked at you, breathless and stunned.

“Okay,” he whispered. “If silence is what it takes to keep kissing you, I’ll shut up for a whole minute. Maybe two. For you, anything.”

You arched a brow like yeah right.

And still, you smiled. Just a little. Just enough.

The next tutoring session felt different. For once, it wasn’t filled with Jake’s usual endless chatter. The silence between you two was a little more comfortable—more like a shared understanding rather than an awkward void.

Jake kept glancing at you every now and then, probably expecting you to snap at him for not talking enough. But you didn’t. You were too focused on the homework in front of you, your pencil moving across the paper with precision, writing down notes and equations you knew like the back of your hand.

Jake sighed dramatically, breaking the silence. “You know, I’m not used to being quiet. You’ve got me second-guessing every word I say now. It’s kinda weird. But also… kinda nice? Like, I can’t even explain it.”

You glanced up at him for a moment, not responding, just letting your eyes flicker to his face.

He paused for a second, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “So, um… I guess I should ask, since we’re kind of like, whatever we are… do you want me to stop talking so much? I mean, I can try. I guess.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just turned a page in your notebook, eyes flicking back down to the problems.

Jake groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “You do what you want.”

He gave you a look, his expression softened. “So you are paying attention.”

You didn’t acknowledge it, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you wrote down more notes.

Jake tilted his head, watching you in silence now. “You’re really hard to read, you know that?”

You kept working.

He continued talking, this time quieter, more to himself than you. “I mean, I get it. You don’t want to put labels on things. You don’t like talking about feelings. But, Y/N, I think—”

He stopped himself when you finally looked up, your eyes meeting his. The words stuck in his throat for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile, albeit awkwardly.

“You’re not gonna kiss me to shut me up this time?” he teased, his tone softer than usual.

You gave him a look—half-annoyed, half-amused—and then, in a rare moment of patience, you reached forward and placed your hand gently over his, stopping him mid-gesture.

“Sometimes, you just need to learn to be quiet,” you said quietly.

Jake blinked, his expression unreadable for a second, before it softened into something close to affection. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to fill the space with words. He just sat there, hand under yours, eyes on you.

The quiet between you was different now. No longer awkward, no longer forced. It felt natural.

The next few minutes passed like that—Jake occasionally glancing at you, but no words. The moment was easy, almost comfortable.

And then, just when you thought the silence would stretch on forever, he nudged you with his elbow, breaking it.

“You know,” he said, almost as if it was an afterthought, “I think we actually got some work done today. You’re kinda scary when you’re focused. I kinda like it.”

You didn’t smile. You didn’t even respond with words.

Instead, you just squeezed his hand once and then went back to your homework, letting the quiet settle between you again.

It was different now—comfortable, easy.

You didn’t need words to fill the space. And somehow, neither did Jake.

The next day, Jake showed up at your door a little earlier than usual. His usual mess of wet hair and wide grin was accompanied by something new in his hands: a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped clumsily in brown paper.

“Uh,” he said, holding the flowers out like they were a fragile secret he didn’t quite know how to present. “These are for you. I, uh, figured flowers might make up for some of my… non-stop talking.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but not fully moved yet. “What’s this for, Jake?”

He scratched the back of his neck, still holding the bouquet awkwardly. “Well, I’ve been thinking. About everything, actually. I keep talking and talking, and I think I finally get it. I’ve been a little… loud, huh?” He glanced at you sheepishly, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, I wanted to ask… um, if maybe you’d consider making things official. Like, us. Together. As in, you and me. Girlfriend and boyfriend?”

You blinked. Twice.

He looked at you with that same soft, nervous expression, not expecting an immediate answer, but his eyes were searching yours for something. Anything.

“I know it’s not how you like to do things,” he continued, his voice quieter now, “but I think… I think I’d like to try. And not just because I can’t stop talking or kissing you. But because I actually—” He cut himself off, then took a breath, making sure he didn’t ramble. “Because I really like you. And I want to do more than just be the guy who yaps at you about random stuff. I wanna be the guy who’s… well, with you. Like, for real.”

The silence in your hallway stretched for a long moment as you processed his words. It wasn’t the usual chaotic energy he’d bring. This felt different. Real. Vulnerable.

Jake stood there, holding the flowers like they might fall out of his hands at any second, his fingers twitching nervously. He was waiting for you to say something.

“Jake,” you said quietly, taking a small step toward him. You glanced down at the flowers. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He smiled, a little crooked but sincere. “Yeah, well, I wanted to. I know I don’t always get things right, but… I think we’ve got something worth trying. So, what do you think? Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but you kept your face calm. You were still figuring everything out, still adjusting to how things between you two had shifted. But Jake… Jake had done it. He had been messy, and loud, and chaotic—and somehow, it had all brought him here.

And maybe, just maybe, you liked it.

Without a word, you took the flowers from his hands and leaned in to kiss him, soft and fleeting. He didn’t kiss you back at first, too stunned, and when you pulled away, you smiled.

“I guess so.”

Jake’s eyes widened, and for a second, he seemed utterly speechless. “Wait, really?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly in surprise.

You nodded. “Yeah. We’ll see how this goes.”

Jake’s face broke into an uncontainable grin, his excitement flooding back like a wave. “This is happening! Oh my god, this is actually happening!” He pulled you into a tight hug, laughing under his breath.

“I’m really glad you finally shut me up,” he said into your hair, voice warm and genuine.

You didn’t say anything, just enjoyed the moment—the quiet that finally felt right between you two.

As you both neared the school gates, you were still trying to process everything. The morning had been strange enough already—Jake showing up uninvited to walk with you, his constant chatter, and now this?

Suddenly, Jake stopped walking. You didn’t even have time to react before he grabbed your hand, pulling it up slightly as he turned toward the school.

“Alright,” he said, his grin wide and mischievous. “I think it’s time I let everyone know.”

Before you could even pull your hand away, he raised it in the air, a little too proudly. His voice rang out, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

“Hey, everyone! Just so you know…” He paused dramatically, then declared with a grin, “I’m officially taken—and not just by anyone! I’m taken by this amazing person right here!”

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to make some big, embarrassing announcement in front of everyone. Your face flushed crimson, and you instinctively took a step back, hiding behind him.

“Jake!” you hissed under your breath, trying to yank your hand from his grasp.

But Jake didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he turned around with that damn grin still plastered on his face, oblivious to the mortification he was causing you.

“Yeah, that’s right, Y/N’s my girlfriend now,” he continued, completely ignoring the stares from students passing by. “Everyone needs to know that!”

You peeked around his back, eyes wide, feeling your embarrassment reach a new level. The attention was unbearable. Some people were whispering and pointing, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Jake, can we please go inside before everyone—” You tried to pull away, but his grip on your hand was firm, and he wasn’t budging.

Turning to face you, Jake seemed a little puzzled, as if he hadn’t fully grasped why you were so upset. “What’s the problem? I’m proud of us. Why are you hiding behind me?”

You rolled your eyes, your face burning with frustration. “Because you’re embarrassing me, Jake!”

At that, Jake’s grin faltered just a bit. He let out a little chuckle, realizing you weren’t as excited about the announcement as he was. But instead of letting go of your hand, he gently pulled you back out from behind him, his tone softer.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a sheepish smile, “I’ll stop with the public declarations. But… you are my girlfriend, and I’m not hiding that. Not even from the world.”

You sighed in frustration but didn’t pull your hand away. You were still mad, still embarrassed, but there was something about the sincerity in his voice that made it hard to stay angry for long.

“I can’t believe you,” you muttered under your breath as you both started walking toward the school entrance, still holding hands. But despite your annoyance, a small part of you couldn’t help but appreciate the way he just… didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion.

Jake, however, was back to his usual upbeat self, talking a mile a minute, probably making up for lost time. And while you tried to ignore him, you could feel the warmth of his hand in yours, and even though you were pissed off, you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

“Hey,” he said, glancing over at you. “I know that was a little much, but… you still like me, right?”

You looked at him, trying to keep your annoyance, but the corners of your lips twitched upward despite yourself. “You’re lucky I do.”

Jake grinned, not realizing how much you were still holding back. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

As you walked into school together, you stayed a little behind him, still feeling embarrassed but secretly relieved that, despite all the chaos he brought, you were starting to get used to it.

masterlist | req open

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charliedawn · 26 days ago

Note

Slashers with a goth reader? Pls include Bo, Arthur, and Pennywise I beg😭😝🖤 and drink water!

Bo Sinclair

“Aw, hell, ya walkin’ to a funeral?” he’d smirk, watching you strut through Ambrose in a floor-length black coat and heavy boots. But oh, he’s watching. Closely. You are in black lace, your silver jewelry, your sharp tongue? He eats it up.

Secretly thinks you’re so hot, but won’t admit it until you catch him staring and call him out. “You wearin’ a corset to kill me or what, darlin’?”

If any tourist so much as mocks your look though, he goes full wrath-mode. You’re his beautiful little bat, and he won’t let anyone make fun of you—besides him.

Jason Voorhees

Jason doesn’t understand fashion, but you in black lace and boots? He’s stunned. You look like something out of a dream he didn’t know he had.

He especially loves how confident you are. He notices every detail—the little silver bat necklace, your dark nail polish, the ripped stockings. You look like Halloween every day, and that calms him.

If you sit by the lake in your black clothes and softly hum something haunting, he’ll sit with you for hours. Just…content. You soothe his rage. He won’t say it, but you’re beautiful to him. Like a graveyard in moonlight.

Norman Bates

Norman finds your goth look strange…but also deeply intriguing. He’s drawn to your aesthetic the same way someone is drawn to a haunting painting—curious, reverent, cautious. He thinks you’re like a character out of a gothic romance novel, all mystery and dark elegance.

At first, he’s worried you’re too “morbid.” But when he sees how you treat him kindly despite your edgy exterior, he decides the way you look doesn’t really matter to him. He nervously offers you a flower and says, “It reminded me of…well, something you might like.”

It’s a dead black rose.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent adores your goth aesthetic. He thinks you’re art.

He sketches you constantly. Every fold of your clothing, every choker, every twist of your hair—it’s all going into his notebook. You find his studio littered with gothic statues inspired by your look.

He won’t say it aloud, but you can feel the admiration in every careful touch, every time he straightens your collar before a photo. He especially loves the contrast of his waxy, silent world with your dark energy.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms thrives on dramatics, so your gothic look delights him.

“You look like a bride for the dead,” he coos, hiding behind doorways and peeking out like a shy Victorian ghost. He wants you to read him poetry, especially sad ones.

He gets jealous if anyone else compliments your look.

“She’s mine. My beautiful little widow.”

He makes you black-and-white drawings and leaves them under your pillow.

Freddy Krueger

He’s instantly into it.

Fishnets, velvet, combat boots—he’s drooling. Not just because you look amazing, but because you look like trouble, and Freddy loves trouble like he loves dreamblood and bad puns.

You walk in all moody and mysterious, and he gives you that big toothy grin:

“You look like a walking Tim Burton wet dream—and baby, I wanna direct the sequel.”

He’ll flirt constantly, call you “Gloom Girl,” “My Little Hex,” or “Wednesday,” and demand you teach him about your music. (He pretends to hate The Cure, but you catch him humming “Lullaby” while sharpening his glove.)

When you talk about loving cemeteries or reading Edgar Allan Poe, he doesn’t make fun of it—he leans in. He gets it. Deep down, Freddy is all rot and ruined beauty too. He likes that someone else likes that kinda stuff too.

Michael Myers

One day, when you look at Michael and ask, “Do I scare you?”, his head tilts.

Then slowly, deliberately, he lifts his notebook and scribbles: No. You calm the part of me that scares everyone else.

Arthur Fleck

At first, Arthur doesn’t know how to categorize you. You show up in his life dressed in all black, lace gloves, long coats, maybe a parasol on sunny days.

“Are you…in a play or something?” he asks with genuine curiosity, squinting at your eyeliner and jewelry. When you smile and say, “No, I just like it,” he smiles. He doesn’t tease you. He admires you.

And of course he spirals just a little with obsession. You’re not just a person to him; you’re a symbol. Something hauntingly beautiful in a world that’s always been so ugly to him. He starts getting jealous, though, when others compliment your look. When someone in public sneers or laughs, Arthur gets tense—starts giggling in that eerie, unstable way that means someone might get hurt.

But when it’s just you two?

He’s gentle. His fingers tremble as he touches the lace on your sleeve. He lights a cigarette just to watch the way the smoke curls around your silhouette. “You look like a funeral I’d love to attend.”

Chucky

“Okay, Wednesday Addams, you trying to kill me or what?” At first, he teases the hell out of you. “What’s with the Dracula cosplay? You got a bat named Gerald or somethin’?”

But underneath the sass, Chucky is into it. He’s never met someone who could wear leather and lace, quote Nietzsche and then flip someone off in the same breath. You’re dark, deadly, and a total smartass—his kryptonite. He brags about your look constantly, shows you off like a trophy. If anyone side-eyes you? He’s got a knife out in seconds.

“Mess with my girl, and I’ll carve eyeliner wings on your lungs.”

Penny

Penny absolutely loses his mind when he sees you in black mesh, eyeliner, stomping boots, and skull jewelry. He’s obsessed.

He doesn’t fully get goth culture, but he adores everything about you. He thinks you’re the coolest thing he’s ever seen and will mimic your style instantly. Expect him to come back with smudged eyeliner, a black shirt with “GLOOMY BABY” written on it, and a hundred questions:

“Is this spooky enough? What’s a ‘post-punk funeral-core’ and can I be in it?”

He calls you his “little bat” or “spooky human” and wants to do everything goth with you—graveyard picnics, dark poetry readings, listening to Bauhaus while decorating a coffin-shaped bookshelf.

Pennywise

He grumbles the moment you walk in, boots thudding, black lipstick perfect, eyeliner sharp enough to kill. He crosses his arms, scowling, leaning against the doorway of the rec room like a disapproving dad.

But his eyes? They follow every move.

You sit beside him, and he scoffs dramatically.“You dress like death. You act like death. You listen to that screeching human music—what was it? Siouxsie and the Ghastlies?” He waves a hand. “I’ve devoured kingdoms with more color than your closet.”

He likes it, just isn’t used to giving compliments.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #slashers #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #jason voorhees x reader #arthur fleck x reader #chucky x reader #norman bates x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #michael myers x reader

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hereforuconnwbb · 2 months ago

Text

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 3

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 5.2k

warning: language

firstly i js wanted to say that yall NEED to check out @pazzispizookies series !! its genuinely soooo so so good and deserves all the love 🫶🏽

heres chap 3 for yall !!! i tried to follow ur guys suggestions so i hope its alr 😭 idk if its good but um yur hopefully u guys like it 🤞🏽

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

“Yo, let’s go,” Aubrey called, tugging her hoodie on as she stepped into the hallway of their dorm. “Class isn’t gonna wait for your little daydream.”

Paige looked up from her phone, blinking like she’d been caught red-handed. “I’m coming,” she said, stuffing the phone in her pocket even though she hadn’t actually been doing anything on it. Just… staring at the home screen.

Aubrey eyed her suspiciously but said nothing.

The morning was crisp as they stepped outside, the sun still low enough to cast long shadows across campus. They walked side by side, feet crunching over gravel and dead leaves, the quiet broken only by the occasional chirp of birds or the distant hum of early lectures starting.

“So,” Aubrey said casually, kicking at a small rock on the path. “You gonna tell me how yesterday went?”

Paige frowned. “Yesterday?”

Aubrey gave her a look. “Don’t play dumb. Azzi. Tutoring. Ringing any bells?”

“Oh,” Paige said quickly. “That.”

“Yes, that. You had a whole session with your little brainiac crush and didn’t text me once after. I was starting to think you died mid-equation or something.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small grin that tugged at her lips. “It was fine.”

Aubrey laughed. “Fine? That’s the best you’ve got? C’mon, spill. You were losing your shit about it before you left. I need a play-by-play.”

Paige let out a breath, hands shoved deep in her pockets. “Okay. It actually wasn’t terrible. She’s really good at explaining stuff. Like, not just smart-smart, well she is, but actually patient. Broke things down in a way that made sense. We ran through some practice questions, and I didn’t feel like a complete idiot for once.”

Aubrey gave her a small nudge with her elbow. “Proud of you, mathlete.”

“I’m serious,” Paige said. “It was… kinda nice. I got one of the problems right without help, and she seemed genuinely impressed.”

Aubrey grinned. “You sound like you just got a gold star.”

Paige ignored the teasing. “She even said I was improving.”

“Well damn,” Aubrey said, mockingly putting a hand over her heart. “Growth.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, eyes on the path. “But yeah, it wasn’t awkward. Which I was worried about.”

“So you two talked?”

“A bit,” Paige admitted. “Nothing crazy. I asked her when she wanted to meet again for our next session and she said tomorrow works but I forgot when, so… um yeah that’s the plan.”

Aubrey smirked. “Look at you already booking the sequel.”

Paige groaned. “It’s tutoring, not a date.”

“Sure,” Aubrey said, clearly unconvinced.

Paige shook her head but didn’t argue. Not out loud, at least.

Aubrey gave her a side glance. “So… did you find out anything interesting about her? Or were y’all just buried in notebooks the whole time?”

Paige hesitated. “Actually… she told me she used to play basketball.”

That made Aubrey blink. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Paige nodded. “Said she played in high school but stopped after losing love and motivation for the game. Didn’t go into too much detail, but she mentioned it when we took a little mental break. She gets what it’s like to balance stuff.”

“Damn. That’s kinda wild,” Aubrey said. “No wonder she seems like she’scool under pressure. Probably used to high-stakes shit.”

Paige smiled a little at that. “Yeah. It was unexpected, though. I don’t know why, but I didn’t picture her as the athlete type.”

“Well,” Aubrey said, throwing an arm loosely over Paige’s shoulder as they kept walking, “you also didn’t picture her being pretty until she was sitting three feet from you helping you solve for equations.”

Paige groaned again, louder this time. “Can we not do this right now?”

Aubrey just laughed. “Hey, I'm not even judging. I’m just saying, it’s cute. You like her brain and her face. Classic.”

“I barely know her,” Paige muttered.

“And yet you were smiling like an idiot just now thinking about her.”

Paige elbowed her. “Shut up.”

They kept walking, but Aubrey glanced over, her voice quieter. “You really do like her, huh?”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She just shrugged, eyes on the concrete.

“I dunno,” she finally said. “She’s cool. She’s smart. And she… I don’t know. She’s just different. In a good way. She’s not weird about me being on the team or whatever. Doesn’t treat me like I’m some—”

“Celebrity?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. I had a moment with some fans yesterday and she just stood back and watched. Didn’t look annoyed or anything. Just… kinda curious.”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “Curious how?”

Paige’s cheeks flushed slightly. “She said I surprised her. Said I wasn’t like she expected.”

Aubrey looked smug now. “Oh? And how exactly did she expect you to be?”

“Apparently like a stuck-up diva,” Paige said dryly. “Big-time athlete energy.”

Aubrey burst out laughing. “Oh my. She thought you were gonna be one of those ‘don’t-look-me-in-the-eye’ types?”

Paige grinned reluctantly. “Something like that.”

“Well,” Aubrey said, nudging her. “At least she thinks you’re better than you look.”

“Oh well, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. Sounds like you’re making a decent impression.”

Paige exhaled slowly. “I don’t think she sees me like that, though.”

Aubrey was quiet for a moment. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. She’s nice. And I think we’re getting along. But she’s… I don’t know. Neutral. In a good way. Like, focused. She’s not flirty or anything.”

“Well, you’ve known her what? 2 days?”

“Exactly,” Paige said. “It’s not like I’m trying to rush anything.”

Aubrey bumped her shoulder. “Still. Don’t count yourself out. You’re a catch.”

Paige gave her a look. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

They reached the building just as the first bell rang in the distance. Paige reached for the door, then paused.

“Thanks, though,” she said. “For listening.”

Aubrey smiled. “Anytime. You better keep me posted after your next session.”

Paige opened the door and held it for her. “No promises.”

“You mean yes, then.”

“Shut up.”

They both stepped inside, laughter echoing down the hallway.

—----------------------

“I’m still waiting,” Caroline said, sliding into her seat next to Azzi with the casual confidence of someone who knew she’d get answers eventually.

Azzi blinked, startled out of her thoughts as she adjusted her hoodie sleeve and sat up straighter. “For what?”

Caroline gave her a look. “Don’t play dumb. The session. You and Paige. Yesterday. How’d it go?”

Azzi hesitated, eyes flicking toward the front of the room where the professor was still getting the slides set up. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Caroline scoffed. “Cmon, you know I’m not accepting a dry little ‘fine’ when you were tutoring Paige Bueckers. The girl who usually ghosts help like it’s contagious? She showed up for tutoring. With you. Spill.”

Azzi smiled a little despite herself, glancing down at her open notebook, though she hadn’t written anything yet. “I mean, she showed up. On time. Sat across from me and listened.”

Caroline raised a brow. “And?”

“And she was… not what I expected.”

Caroline leaned in, grinning now. “How so?”

Azzi let out a small breath and tried to find the words. “She wasn’t super talkative. Kind of quiet, actually. But like, in a sweet way. She didn’t pretend to understand everything like I thought she would. She was just… really present. Asked questions, paid attention.”

“Hmm,” Caroline said, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that tracks.”

Azzi tilted her head. “How so?”

“That’s what I meant the other day,” Caroline said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Paige usually has this… front. All confident and cocky and loud. But around certain people, she’s different. Calmer. Like she’s letting her guard down a bit.”

Azzi blinked, thinking back. “She definitely wasn’t cocky. I mean, she joked a little at the start, but mostly she was just focused. Or, at least she tried to be.”

“Tried?” Caroline asked.

Azzi hesitated again. “There were a few moments where… I caught her staring.”

Caroline’s brows shot up. “Staring?”

“Not like—” Azzi shook her head quickly. “Not in a weird way. Just… I’d be explaining something, and I’d pause to check if she was following, and she’d already be looking at me. Kinda like she forgot she was supposed to be paying attention to the material.”

Caroline smirked. “Okayyyy.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “It’s probably nothing. Maybe she was zoning out. People do that all the time.”

“Paige doesn’t zone out when someone’s talking to her face,” Caroline said. “Unless that person’s, you know… distracting.”

Azzi gave her a dry look. “You’re impossible.”

Caroline held up her hands. “I’m just saying. Besides, you don’t seem bothered.”

“I wasn’t,” Azzi said honestly, twirling her pen between her fingers. “It was just… surprising. She’s sweet. More than I expected.”

There was a brief pause before Caroline asked, “Did she seem nervous?”

Azzi thought about it. “A little. But I couldn’t tell if it was about the subject or just… the situation.”

Caroline grinned. “Probably both.”

Azzi smiled faintly, but her mind was already slipping back to that part when Jace had walked up near the end of their session.

“Oh,” she added suddenly. “And there was this moment Jace came by.”

Caroline groaned immediately. “Ugh. That idiot. Let me guess. Trying to ‘schedule’ another session?”

Azzi snorted. “Yeah. I tutor him too.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “He’s the worst. If he’s not hitting on someone, he’s talking about himself.”

“Well…” Azzi shrugged. “He’s not that bad… Well, so far.”

Caroline looked at her like she was delusional. “Az, he once asked me if I thought he could ‘go pro in looks alone.’ That wasn’t a joke. Be for real.”

Azzi laughed under her breath. “Fair.”

“What happened when he came over?”

Azzi hesitated. “Paige got kind of… stiff? I don’t know. At first I thought she just didn’t like him, oh well I mean she doesn't but then when he asked about our next session, she got a little defensive.”

Caroline blinked. “Defensive how?”

“She was just short with him. Told me he’s a ‘walking ego’ and a ‘player’ and that I should be careful.”

Caroline sat back slowly, eyebrows high. “Oooooo. Ok, Miss Protective Energy.”

Azzi glanced down, thoughtful. “I don’t think she meant it to come off so strong. She apologized after, kind of awkwardly. Said it came out weird.”

“But you noticed it,” Caroline said, nudging her lightly.

“I did,” Azzi admitted. “It just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting her to care that much.”

“She probably doesn’t even know why she cares that much yet,” Caroline murmured, like she was mostly talking to herself.

Azzi didn’t respond. She wasn’t about to overanalyze someone she’d only just started getting to know. She wasn’t crushing on Paige, and Paige hadn’t exactly been flirting—at least not directly. It was all so new and tentative. Still in that weird space between strangers and something else.

But she could admit this much to herself, Paige Bueckers was sweet. A little awkward. And maybe, just maybe, there was something about the way she looked at Azzi that didn’t feel entirely academic.

Azzi tapped her pen against her notebook and finally wrote a heading at the top of the page as the lecture began. It didn’t mean anything. Not yet.

It was just tutoring.

—----------------------

The library was warm and quiet, sunlight slicing through the tall windows and falling across the long tables. Azzi sat curled in a small booth tucked near the back, one leg folded underneath her and a textbook open in front of her, though she hadn’t read the same paragraph three times already.

Caroline plopped down across from her, chin in her hand, no book or laptop in sight.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” Azzi said, glancing up.

“Yeah, well, I’m not about to let you sit here alone while Jace ‘Mr. I Bench More Than I Read’ McCallister slides in with his axe smell and stupid smirk,” Caroline replied. “I’m providing moral support.”

Azzi laughed softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Caroline perked up and leaned forward, eyes narrowing toward the open space on the other side of the library. “Hey. Look who’s here.”

Azzi followed her gaze and immediately spotted Paige—sitting at a big round table with KK, Ice, and Aubrey, all of them surrounded by a few classmates. Paige was laughing about something, one leg stretched out, gesturing wildly with her hands while she told a story. Her voice carried that familiar rasp lifting over the quiet library hum.

“Is she always like that?” Azzi asked, watching as Paige bumped shoulders with Ice and tossed her head back laughing.

“That,” Caroline said, pointing with her eyes, “is what I meant. That’s Paige in her default mode. Loud, confident, knows she’s hot shit and plays into it.”

Azzi frowned slightly, watching her. “She wasn’t like that with me.”

“Exactly,” Caroline said, voice low but knowing. “Two days ago, when you met her? She could barely make eye contact. Yesterday from what you told me? Nervous. Kinda flustered. Sat still and actually listened. That version?” She nodded toward the table “That's classic Paige.”

Azzi blinked, studying the difference. “It’s like… two different people.”

“Not two different people,” Caroline corrected. “Just two sides of her. One’s the mask. The other comes out around people who get under her skin.”

Azzi hummed quietly and looked down at her book. She didn’t know what it meant, or if it even meant anything. But it was noticeable. Paige was easy and loud over there, commanding the space. With Azzi, she’d been soft. Still funny, but careful. A little unsure.

“You think she does that around anyone else?” Azzi asked quietly.

“Nope,” Caroline said instantly. “Not like that.”

Before Azzi could respond, a sudden weight dropped next to her in the booth, and an all-too-familiar voice chimed in, entirely too close to her ear.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, star student.”

Azzi nearly jumped, turning to see Jace sliding in like he owned the damn seat, pressing up against her like there weren’t several feet of empty space. His stupid, cocky smile was already in place. Worse, his arm flopped casually around the back of the booth, his hand barely brushing her shoulder.

“Geez, Jace,” Azzi muttered, inching slightly away, but there was nowhere to go.

Caroline, across the booth, didn’t even try to hide her disgust.

“Could you not?” she said flatly, eyes locking onto Jace like she was ready to start swinging. “Get your nasty ass arm off her.”

Jace blinked, grinning, clearly thinking it was a joke.

Caroline didn’t smile. “I’m not fucking around, either. You smell like a Hollister clearance bin and desperation.”

Azzi smothered a laugh behind her hand as Jace chuckled awkwardly and finally removed his arm.

“Alright, damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t know I needed permission to sit.”

“You don’t,” Caroline said, standing. “You just need manners. Something you clearly skipped in whatever athlete orientation you fumbled through.”

She grabbed her water bottle and gave Azzi a look. “Text me when you’re done. Don’t let him breathe on you too long. Might lower your IQ.”

“Thanks for the support,” Azzi said with a small smile as Caroline walked off.

Jace looked after her and scoffed. “What’s her problem?”

Azzi turned back to her notebook and flipped to a fresh page. “You, mostly.”

He laughed again like he wasn’t offended, leaning back as he stretched his legs under the table. “You ready to work?”

Azzi didn’t respond, instead just clicked her pen and looked at him with a tired expression.

“Let’s just start with this bit.”

—----------------------

The session had been going for maybe 20 minutes, but it felt like an hour.

Azzi kept her eyes on her notebook, trying to focus on equations and numbers, but it was hard when Jace kept leaning in like she was whispering secrets instead of solving problems.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered, squinting at the paper in front of him. “You sure this is right? I swear you’re making this up.”

Azzi didn’t look up. “It’s literally the textbook example.”

Jace huffed. “Yeah, but you didn’t even check a calculator. You just… knew it.” He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice like it was some compliment. “Kinda hot how smart you are.”

Azzi’s grip on her pen tightened. She forced a polite smile. “It’s basic algebra.”

“Mmm,” he said, still too close. “You make it look good.”

She shifted, sliding her notebook slightly to the left to put more space between them. “Let’s move on to the next one.”

Meanwhile, across the library, Paige had just caught sight of them.

She froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Jace lean closer again, like Azzi had said something hilarious. She didn’t even realize she’d stopped talking until Ice nudged her leg under the table.

“You good?” Ice asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, what?” Paige blinked, tearing her eyes away.

KK turned around and followed her gaze instantly. “Ugh,” she muttered. “Is that Jace over there?”

Aubrey leaned across the table. “Yeah. With Azzi.” Her voice dipped slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Paige said quickly. Too quickly.

KK snorted. “He’s so gross.”

“Right?” Ice added. “Why does he talk like he’s in a bad teen romcom?”

“I’m pretty sure he actually told someone last week that he’s ‘a beast at math’ and then failed a pop quiz,” Aubrey said, rolling her eyes.

Paige tried to look unbothered, but her jaw was tight.

“Seriously though,” Aubrey said, softer now. “You look like you’re gonna launch a textbook across the room.”

Paige forced a laugh. “I’m not jealous, ok? She’s just tutoring him.”

“No one said anything about being jealous,” Aubrey replied with a sly smile. “But now that you brought it up…”

“I said I’m not,” Paige muttered, shifting in her seat.

KK leaned in, grinning. “It’s giving jealousy in denial. Just saying.”

“Guys,” Paige groaned.

“She’s tutoring him and he’s being a creep,” Ice said plainly. “I’d be annoyed too.”

“I’m not annoyed,” Paige insisted, but her eyes drifted back to the table again just in time to see Jace make some exaggerated arm stretch that “accidentally” brushed Azzi’s shoulder again.

Paige’s nostrils flared. “I hate him.”

“Ah,” KK said with a grin. “There it is.”

Meanwhile, back at Azzi’s table, the vibe had not improved.

Jace leaned back, arms spread across the booth like he was chilling in a hot tub. “So like, what do you even do for fun when you’re not crunching numbers?”

Azzi didn’t look up. “Read. Study. Watch movies.”

“You should come to one of my parties sometime,” he said, flashing a grin. “Bet you’d loosen up after a drink or two.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “I don’t drink.”

Jace chuckled like she was joking. “Cmon, you’re not that much of a nerd, are you?”

Azzi’s mouth opened slightly, ready to respond, but she was interrupted by a familiar voice approaching from behind.

“Thank god I came back.”

Caroline dropped into the booth beside Jace, her face a picture of calm disdain. “My class got canceled. But it looks like I’m just in time to keep you from spontaneously combusting from secondhand stupidity.”

Jace blinked at her. “You’re back? Damn, I was just getting into a rhythm.”

Caroline smiled sweetly. “Yeah, and that rhythm’s offbeat and annoying.”

Azzi coughed to hide her laugh.

Jace looked between them, confused but still trying. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to it. What’s this one?” He tapped a question Azzi had written down. “Why the hell are there letters in this?”

“It’s variables,” Azzi said. “You’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, but it’s like—when do you even use this in real life?”

Caroline didn’t miss a beat. “Hopefully never. Especially if you’re behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.”

He shot her a look. “You’re hilarious.”

“I know,” she smiled. “And not failing algebra.”

Azzi couldn’t help it, she snorted, finally meeting Caroline’s eyes for a second, grateful.

Jace leaned over again, and Caroline immediately pointed a pen at him like a weapon. “Back up. She’s trying to teach you, not catch your whatever axe spray fumes.”

“Geez,” Jace muttered, finally leaning away, sulking a bit.

Paige, still watching from the other side of the library, cracked a small grin as she saw Caroline push Jace’s textbook closer to him and reposition the notebook so Azzi didn’t have to keep shifting away. She didn’t even care if it looked obvious anymore. She was watching with her chin on her hand, eyes fixed on the little booth in the back like it was playing out in slow motion.

“She’s fine,” Aubrey said gently. “She’s got backup now.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, sitting up again. “I know.”

But her knee was still bouncing under the table.

And even though she kept telling herself it was just tutoring… that didn’t stop the annoying little heat crawling up her spine whenever Jace smiled at Azzi like she was some prize to win.

—----------------------

The bounce in Paige’s knee hadn’t stopped. She tried to stay chill, to tune back into whatever Ice was rambling about across the table, but her attention was magnetized to the back of the library like it had its own damn gravity. And Jace’s face? It made her want to commit minor crimes.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered suddenly, pushing back from her seat.

Aubrey looked up. “Where you going?”

“Bathroom,” Paige said, already moving.

The hallway to the restrooms wasn’t far, unfortunately for her blood pressure tt curved past the quiet study booths in the back, which meant she had to walk right by Azzi, Caroline, and Captain Walking Red Flag. She kept her gaze forward the whole way in, ignoring the flare of irritation in her chest when Jace laughed too loudly at something Azzi clearly hadn’t found funny.

Inside the bathroom, Paige splashed cold water on her face. You’re chill. You’re fine. You’re not mad. You’re not jealous. She stared at herself in the mirror and muttered, “You’re just normal. Totally normal.”

By the time she stepped out, she had composed herself or so she thought.

Caroline spotted her first. “Hey, Bueckers.”

Azzi’s head popped up, her face lighting up just a little. “Hi.”

Paige smiled—real, maybe a little shy, but real. “Hey,” she said back, eyes flicking to Azzi, then Caroline… and very pointedly skipping over Jace entirely.

That silence didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well hello to you too, Bueckers,” Jace drawled, leaning on the edge of the booth like he thought he was in a GQ shoot. “Don’t strain yourself or anything.”

Without missing a beat, Caroline deadpanned, “Shut the fuck up, Jace.”

Azzi tried, but failed to hide her smile behind her water bottle.

Paige smirked. “Didn’t even see you there,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Guess you really are forgettable.”

Jace’s grin faltered. Caroline snorted.

Paige turned slightly toward Azzi, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Uh, are we still good for our session tomorrow?”

Azzi nodded, already pulling out her planner. “Yeah, definitely.”

“What time works for you? I’m not too sure if we worked on one yesterday.” Paige asked, and if her voice cracked the tiniest bit, she hoped no one noticed. “I’ve got practice in the afternoon, so I’ll be wiped by like, 3.”

Azzi smiled thoughtfully, pen tapping her page. “Want to do it early in the evening? Cause I know you have a game the following day. So like, 7?”

“Yeah,” Paige nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Azzi hesitated a second, then added, “If you’re okay with it… we could do it at my dorm this time? Cause you know… It'll be too late for the library.”

“Sure,” Paige said, a little too fast. Then she caught herself and coughed lightly. “I mean, yeah. That sounds chill.”

Jace perked up again. “Damn, why didn’t I get the dorm invite? Could’ve made it a fun time.”

Caroline and Paige without even glancing at each other both said at the exact same time

“Because no one wants to catch secondhand brain rot.”

There was a pause.

And then they both cracked.

Paige wheezed. Caroline slapped the table and leaned back laughing. They reached over and dapped each other up like it was the easiest alley-oop in the world.

Azzi looked between them, eyes wide with amusement, and then glanced at Caroline who was now giving her that look. The one she gave earlier, the one that screamed: See what I meant? She’s different around you.

Azzi raised an eyebrow slightly, and Paige, still chuckling, looked back and forth between them.

“What?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Nothing,” Caroline said, drawing out the word with a grin.

Azzi just shrugged innocently. “Nothing,” she echoed, but her lips twitched.

Paige squinted. “You guys are pre’ weird.”

Before either of them could respond, Jace scoffed from the corner. “Yo, Bueckers, you done with your stand-up set or…?”

Paige didn’t even blink.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you were still here. You blend in so well with all the other mistakes.”

Caroline howled.

Even Azzi had to press her lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

Jace blinked, clearly flustered now. “Damn, you got jokes, huh?”

Paige gave him a deadpan look. “Nah, I’ve got patience. And it’s running out.”

Caroline slammed her hand on the table, cackling now. “She’s killing you, bro. Stop talking before she ends your bloodline.”

“Yall wild,” Jace muttered, clearly retreating now.

Paige just smirked. “See you tomorrow, Azzi,” she said, her voice softening a little as she glanced at her.

Azzi nodded, still half-smiling. “See you.”

“Bye, Caroline,” Paige added, already walking away.

Caroline shot finger guns in response. “Keep roasting creeps, Bueckers.”

And as Paige made her way back around the corner, the bounce in her step had returned but this time, it wasn’t frustration keeping her moving.

It was satisfaction. And maybe just a tiny bit of butterflies.

As soon as Paige rounded the corner and slid back into her seat, Aubrey’s eyebrows shot up. She had her arms crossed, chin resting on her fist like she was watching a live episode of Library Drama: Bueckers Edition.

“So…” Aubrey dragged the word out, voice way too casual. “What the hell was that?”

Paige blinked, all fake innocence. “What was what?”

“That little stand-up routine you just dropped back there,” Aubrey said, eyes narrowing. “The way you and Caroline just mind-melded into synchronized murder mode? You were cackling, bro. Like, full-body shaking. I thought someone was dying.”

KK looked up from her phone across the table. “Wait, what happened?”

“Yeah,” Ice chimed in, scooting her chair in closer. “You disappeared and came back grinning like the Grinch. Spill it.”

Paige tried to play it cool, slouching in her chair. “Nothing. Jace was just being Jace.”

“Ohhhh,” Ice said knowingly, dragging out the word like she already knew where this was headed. “Was he tryna talking to her?”

Paige didn’t respond fast enough. That was all the confirmation they needed.

Aubrey leaned forward, grinning. “So he was flirting again?”

“More like… delusional,” Paige muttered, picking at a tear in the knee of her jeans. “Said some dumb shit. Caroline shut him down first. I just followed her lead.”

“Followed her lead, my ass,” KK snorted. “Caroline’s probably still wheezing. What’d you say?”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk. “I told him he blends in with other mistakes.”

“OH MY GOD YOU LEGEND BUECKERS,” Ice shouted, slapping the table so hard the girl at the next table flinched so hard. “You did not!”

“I did,” Paige said proudly. “And before that? Caroline and I said the exact same insult at the exact same time.”

KK whistled. “You tag-teamed his ass.”

“Azzi looked like she was trying not to laugh,” Aubrey added with a sly glance. “Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

Paige’s expression tightened, but she played it off. “I mean, it was funny.”

Aubrey smirked. “It was you.”

Meanwhile, back at the booth in the far corner of the library, Jace was still planted at the edge of the table like he hadn’t just gotten cooked in front of half the library. But his smile was more forced now, his swagger cracked around the edges.

Caroline glanced at Azzi, who had gone quiet, eyes locked on her notes but clearly not seeing a damn thing.

“Can we go over that thing from earlier again?” Jace asked, sliding his chair an inch closer. “The part about… um, the coefficients?”

Azzi blinked and looked up. “We covered that ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t paying attention,” he said with a grin that he probably thought was charming.

Caroline groaned audibly. “You’re not supposed to admit that.”

Azzi forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay… so you take the coefficient—”

Jace wasn’t listening. He was watching her mouth, leaning in just a little too close.

Caroline noticed immediately. “You good, Az?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She tried to refocus, pointing at a formula. “So here, this number is distributed—”

“Damn, you must tutor a lot of people,” Jace interrupted, his voice lower now. “Bet you’ve got a line.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“Like, I get it,” he said, smirking. “Smart, cute, helpful. That’s a whole fantasy package.”

Azzi sat back slightly, her expression turning colder. “We’re studying. I’m tutoring you”

“I know,” Jace said, hands up like he was innocent. “I’m just saying, you’re probably breaking hearts all over campus.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, dude?”

“What?” he said, like he hadn’t just turned a tutoring session into a bad pickup attempt. “I’m just being friendly.”

Azzi looked down at her notebook, then slowly closed it.

Jace blinked. “Wait, are we done?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said, her voice sharp but polite. “We’ve covered what we needed to, and you’re clearly not here to learn.”

Caroline crossed her arms with a smirk. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

Jace sat back, scoffing like he was the one being wronged. “Damn. You girls are cold.”

“No,” Azzi said, standing and sliding her bag onto her shoulder. “We’re just not here for you.”

Jace opened his mouth to say something else, but Caroline stood up too, cutting him off just by sheer vibe.

“You should probably go,” she said. “Before you embarrass yourself any harder.”

Jace muttered something under his breath, but grabbed his bag and stalked off, ego limping behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Azzi exhaled like she’d been holding it in.

“Fucking finally,” Caroline muttered. “I was 2 seconds away from pouring my water on him.”

Azzi laughed—tired, but real. “He just wouldn’t let up.”

“I know,” Caroline said, glancing toward the front of the table where Paige was at with Aubrey, KK and Ice. “And someone was definitely not chill about it.”

Azzi followed her gaze and frowned a little. “Paige?”

“Mhmmmm,” Caroline hummed. “You didn’t notice?”

Azzi looked away, lips pursed, thinking. “She was funny.”

“She’s always funny,” Caroline said. “But not always like that.”

Azzi didn’t say anything to that. She just zipped up her bag and shook her head, her expression unreadable.

Caroline didn’t push. But as they walked out of the library together, she tucked a knowing smirk into her back pocket for later.

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

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