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letorip · 17 days

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i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

384 notes · View notes

fbfh · 9 months

Text

tristin dugray relationship and intimacy hcs pt 2

wc: 1.1k

pairing: tristin x (implied fem) reader

genre: straight up smut with some mild feelings

warnings: brief mention of exhibitionism, debriefing with madison and louise, aftercare, cuddles, car sex, sex in a variety of places, cockwarming, nudes, brief mention of oral (m recieving)

song rec: mary - alex g (bc this is literally tristin's song. it's so fucking tristin coded.)

a/n: so good news I think my adhd medication is finally working lol

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU MORE TRISTIN SMUT BC I’M FOAMING AT THE FUCKING MOUTH

What’s fun about Tristin

Among many other things

Is his fixation with your hips

Seriously it was one of the first things this horny motherfucker noticed about you

Whenever you wear anything mildly form fitting he can’t take his goddamn eyes off your hips

Once you’re together it’s basically impossible for him to resist touching them

Sometimes it’s a playful squeeze

Or an affectionate rub

Other times it’s full on groping while he shoves his tongue into your mouth and makes you grind against his thigh

He could live like that for days and not get tired

Speaking of

Tristin has fucking stamina for DAYS

“Men can’t have multiple orgasms” tell that to him!!!!!!!!

He just… has a fixation with all of you honestly

Like there’s no part of you that he’s not going to eye the fuck up

You know the looks he’s always giving Rory????

That’s just the tip of the iceberg babe

Or should I say tip of the penis lol

Anyway

Tristin is vocal as FUCK

Like mans can’t shut up

Even when we’ve reached the previously mentioned dumbfucking point, he’s still going to be whining and grunting and panting nonstop

His moans have you gushing like niagara falls tbh

There is a zero percent chance he’s not going to give you the most affectionate aftercare every time too

So much praise and kisses and cuddles

Like he’ll genuinely get upset if you try to just bounce afterwards

Or worse

If he wakes up the next morning and you’re not there

Maybe he could handle casual hookups with other girls

But not with you

He will absolutely pull you back into bed and demand kisses and cuddles

I’m not gonna lie

He does have a little bit of an exhibitionist streak

Just a tiny itty bitty one

Mostly just from the urge to prove that you’re his when other guys keep flirting with you

If the circumstances were right and you were down, he would be happy to put on a show for them, show them how good he treats you

If you’re still friends with madison and louise/go to the same college as them they will BEG you for details and live vicariously through you

The line where they saw Tristin and Summer making out in front of Rory’s locker and one of them (I forget which one) was like “if you’re dating Tristin you have the right to make out anywhere and everywhere”

…

Yeah

They will literally grill details out of you

Whatever they can get

And the way they look at him after

The little sighs and head tilts and staring off into space thinking about what you told them, letting their imaginations go wild

It would make you jealous

If you didn’t know how much he likes you

But yeah there’s no one that can take you away from Tristin

He loves you

And he loves keeping things fresh and spicy and exciting

He absolutley fucks you in his car a lot

Like a lot lot

There’s at least a few pairs of your panties that you’ve lost somewhere in the fancy leather seats

He’ll also happily fuck you in your car

And every room and surface of your apartment

And your apartment hallway

And in an elevator once

And public bathrooms

And your bathroom

And pretty much anywhere he thinks yall can get away with

Seriously this boy is such a slut but he’s only a slut for you

You light him on fucking fire and he can’t cope

He needs you biblically,, like in a way that’s concerning to feminism.

You can tell how he feels just from the way he looks at you

And it’s obvious as shit to everyone else too

Like literally everyone

He eye fucks you a lot lot lot

GOD this boy can seduce you so fast

He moans so loud for you too

Tristin will really give you a good show

He wants to impress you

Wants you to need him

(cough cough praise kink)

He wants to breathe the same air as you

He wants to wrap you up so tight in his arms that it feels like you’re merging into one person

Tristin is the “cuddling isn’t enough I need to climb inside your skin” kinda clingy

Solution is cockwarming

Which you both love a lot

Once he realizes cockwarming is an option?????

It slowly increases in frequency

There’s a good chance you won’t be able to sleep without it at some point

Seriously he will hold you tight and rub your back and touch your soft skin and tell you all the lovey dovey things he feels about you

Most of it is lovey dovey

But don’t let that fool you

He is the CEO of both his family company AND dirty thoughts about you

Seriously he’s set off so easily by you

9 times out of 10 he’s probably fantasizing about you

Remembering your touch

How you feel around him

God he can’t wait to get his hands on you again

Let me tell you

Tristin is a motherfucking MENACE when it comes to sexting

He will have you blushing over the phone in ways you didn’t know you could blush

He’s so shameless about it too

If you send him nudes??????

He will literally die

And he’ll happily, happily return the favor

Once he realizes how you react when he sends you nudes?????

He never wants to stop

He literally loves getting you all feral and worked up over him

Don’t let Madison and Louise find out Tristin sends you nudes or else they will steal your phone and make a copy of your fingerprint with sticky tape and face powder just to access them /hj

Speaking of going feral

Tristin’s happy trail?????????

Are we gonna talk about it??????

Are we gonna talk about how you want to fucking bite him and deep throat him until you memorize every vein whenever you see his lil happy trail????

Because you will

You’ll definitely want to

Okay putting myself down now lol

I need his cock immediately

Constantly covered in hickeys and unable to walk and he loves it so much

He loves when you need him and he loves fucking you so good that you’re out of commission the next day

It’s what you deserve

You think he’s a menace now???

God help you when he gets baby fever

#tristin dugray #tristin dugray smut #tristin dugray x reader #tristin dugray headcanons #tristan dugray smut #tristan dugray x reader #tristan dugray #gilmore girls smut #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls #he is so biteable #i want to bite him

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thechaoticdruid · 4 months

Text

The urge to start pushing my Starlach agenda is growing....

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websterss · 23 days

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: If there's one thing Caleb is scared of it's the color red and the devil.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈��𝐆(𝐒): angst, some fluff, implications of smut, some making out

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,604

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! This was one fic I lost when I made a new blog and was reposting my works. It's not exactly the same but I stuck to the same plot as best as I could.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You had caught Luke's eye as soon as he stepped out onto the floor. Many people flaunting and going amidst their night caught his attention. He felt that he and the guys were a little underdressed for the fancy club, but it had been your appearance alone that had you catching their eyes like flies. They were drawn to you in particular. Luke most of all, couldn't sway where his sights were directed towards.

"Hey boys, I'll be right back." He made to move past Reggie, his hand on his chest in passing but was stopped when Willie intersected him. Luke looked down at the hand that Willie pressed against his chest. He scoffed in amusement. "Where's the fire?"

"N-Nowhere, but there could be. I wouldn't recommend it. Not her. Y/n isn't someone you just go up and talk to." Willie's face fell with fear.

"Oh yeah, why's that? Is she important or something?" Luke laughed, but Willie wasn't finding Luke's advances towards you hilarious. "She off-bounds?"

"Yea- Yeah, she is in fact," Willie said nervously. After taking notice of Willie's shift in tone when he spoke of you, Luke's eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

"What are you getting at, Willie? You seem protective." Luke questioned as he put two and two together. He was almost certain that Alex was Willie's crush, he didn't take him to swing both ways or had he simply misread him, that and the way he reacted just now…it seemed unprecedented. "I thought you liked Alex?" Luke crossed his arms.

"I do- It's not like that. Just- Just promise me you won't approach her. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you guys." Willie pleads.

Luke couldn't help but raise a brow, Willie was acting like she was some sort of monster. "A heartbreaker then, that's okay Willie. I've had my fair share of girls like her." He smiled boyishly. He reached up to slap Willie on his upper arm in reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen." Luke shrugged off Willie. Willie was being dramatic. The interest of doing something irrational intrigued him like a child who was told to not play with fire.

"Luke, I mean it. She's not even a regular. You won't see her that much. She's only ever here on business."

"Only ever here for business, huh?" Luke repeated curiously with an eyebrow up. "Then why can't I talk to her? What's gonna happen, Willie?" Luke wasn't one for following orders, that was not in his nature. He couldn't stand being told what not to do, it only made him crave what he wasn't meant to have or do even more. So, it was no mistake that Willie had made one just now. This little curiosity of Luke's was going to get the best of him. The way Willie made it sound like you did some kind of illicit activity intrigued him even more. "What, does she work for the mob or something?" He said half-jokingly with a brow lift. It was only natural to be enticed by a beautiful woman whom people were being tight-lipped about, it only made you seem more interesting and willing to know more about in his books.

"N-Nothing good." He muttered softly. "Why don't I show you guys to your table?"

"Yes, please!" Alex raised a finger, eager to move past Willie's sudden fear-stricken face.

"You guys go ahead. I'll be right back." Luke finally did move past Reggie and began making his way over to you.

"Luke, I wouldn't!" Willie exclaimed.

"I'm just gonna say hi." He turned to walk backwards as he faced him with a cheeky smile. Then turned as he approached the empty bar, beside you and the bartender giving you your drinks with shaky hands. That had him raising his brows with interest.

"Hi Marcus, long time no see." You flashed the man with a sweet smirk. Marcus's smile fell upon the realization you were sitting before the bar. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hands letting it fall to the ground with a smash. He winced at the sound of it breaking. He remained composed as your smile didn't let up. You were the mere image of innocence, you conjured up the identity of a teenage girl this time around. Last year you looked older, dressed up as a woman in a black dress, but this by far was his least favorite one on you, your childlike nature and appearance was scaring him shitless. Your soul was pure rotten, you by no means represented youth and innocence.

"Y/n." He dipped his head in greetings.

"I see Caleb still keeps you around." You tilted your head.

Because he knows I can keep you tranquil. He wanted to say but opted not to. "I'm the only one who can make a dirty cocktail." He lets out nervously.

"That you can, sweetie. Though I'm more in the mood for something sweet tonight, like you." You poke his sternum. Your sweet angelic laughter unsettles him, but he laughs along with you. Knowing Caleb would have his soul again if he made you angry.

"Perhaps a living soul?" He offered with a timid smile.

"Hell no, Lucifer knows I deal with too many of them back home as it is. Why on earth would I waste my time on one tonight? Though you do have a fair amount of them tonight..." You hum surveying the floor. You turned back to the bar. "How about a slushy, make it strong, and fruity." You order.

"So you're not here to collect a soul?"

"I have other matters to tend to Marcus. I've been getting screwed over you see. My bargain with your showman has not been followed down to the last letter, and I am not happy Marcus." You sigh. "I mean how stupid does Caleb peg me? Stealing souls from me." Your laughter darkens with every word that escapes you. "I am a woman of business, and I don't see my need to be tethered to one so insidious. You understand, Marcus?"

Marcus nods furiously. "Where's Willie? As of now, he's my new eyes and ears. Caleb still has his soul right? Of course, he does that's how he controls you all. If this gets out to Caleb sweetie, I'll be the one to devour that pure soul of yours." You raise a brow in question gesturing to his chest. Marcus nods and snaps his fingers. Your requested drink appearing before you. You raised the glass to your lips and let your shoulders drop. "This is why I love you, Marcus."

"Am I no longer your eyes and ears?"

"No." You could see Marcus's disappointment flash in his eyes. "You've been upgraded to my personal assistant."

Marcus felt honored. "Oh wow. Does this mean I don't have to be behind the bar anymore?"

"Only when we come to the club, but other than that..." You snap your fingers nonchalantly. Caleb's stupid stamp floated off of Marcus's wrist. The poor man looked as though he'd cry.

He did.

"Consider it a gift, sweetie. That's all you're gonna get...really." You shrug. You didn't like getting too sentimental with others. Marcus palmed his mouth. Covering it to muffle his cries. You looked around hopefully no one was watching the scene unfold before you. You shrink in your stool and take another sip of your drink. You took another gulp of your drink, enjoying the flavor it had, it was indeed what you had asked for.

"Marcus." You called his name softly when the tears finally stopped flowing. "Look at me." Marcus's head raised and eyes widened with fear once again. "Stop, please."

"S-Sorry. I'm good, I'm good." You nodded with him, your eyes widened with concern. "Thank you..." He muttered softly.

"Sure." You laughed out nervously wanting his hands off you. “Marcus.” You spoke sternly this time which brought him to pay attention and made him stop touching you. “How about another drink, yeah.” You shifted the mood, hoping to reassure him by taking his mind off of being freed by you. "Surprise me this time."

"Yes- Yes, right away." He composed himself as best he could and began to make your new drink.

Luke's gaze was fixated on the bartender's shaky hands, having caught the last of your conversation with him before he grew close. It was something that caught his attention to no end. A burning hole in his brain as he wondered why you had such an effect on people, good and bad. He wanted to know more about you. So he sat on the stool right beside you.

He turned towards you; his hands were resting on the counter, as he tapped along to the melody playing throughout the club. Luke's gaze met yours, raising a brow as he took notice that you were eyeing him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he hid that fact with an amused smirk.

"Nice shoes." His grin brightened. "I'm more of a vans guy myself but I think it's time I make a drastic brand change." Luke turned in the stool, next to the very pretty girl, who looked completely out of place. Your leather jacket and dark blue denim, not to mention your incredibly red shoes, didn't fit the club's dress code.

You peered over the glass in your hand. Your eyes narrowed curiously at the curly-haired stranger who unashamedly sat in the vacant seat next to yours. Surely he had to be pulling your hair. When you saw no falter in his charming smile, you played along. Hoping to amuse the poor lad unaware of the person you were, of your identity. Most would cower at the sight of you but his lack of knowledge told you all you needed to. He was clueless...and a pretty sight. You set your drink down and smirk, turning your full self towards him.

"Thanks. I had them dyed with the blood of the damned." You stuck your leg out, tilting your head in admiration of your shoes.

Your brows pinched closer together upon his laugh. You were confused by his reaction, what had been so funny? You were being your most sincere.

He snickered again, trying hard not to laugh, in fear of offending you. He let out another brief laugh, trying his best not to lose it. It was the way your words so casually rolled off your tongue that got him. He smirked. "Damned you say. Does that mean that you had to damn them yourself or were they already damned and you just decided to take advantage of the opportunity." He joked around, though curiosity filled his mind as he wondered what your answer would be. He sure wasn't expecting your sweet angelic tune that escaped you as a response. Your head fell back. Marcus stilled, looking at the new stranger who caused such a reaction from you and then at you. Was this a stroke you were having and he was completely unaware? He opted to join in, his fake laughs weren't noticed by you luckily.

He eyed Luke as though he put the moon in the sky. He got you to laugh. Completely unheard of.

Luke felt satisfied. His grin widened as he softly joined in on your bubbled display of joy. "I mean they do make killer shoes. I kind of want some now." He shrugged with half interest.

Marcus finally released a stifled laugh. The poor man was holding it in, not knowing where you two would take the conversation. "I can't say I've ever had the urge to wear shoes made of human blood," He spoke in an attempt to keep the energy at bay.

"Well," Luke started, "they're rather fashionable, right? I mean, I know leather clothing is still in style, you're perfectly on top of that trend already." He joked back casually. You felt something strange in your chest as he raked his eyes up and down your entirety. "All I'd be missing is the shoes..." He bit his lip.

"Yeah?" You looked back at him amused. "You want a pair?"

"Why not?" He entertained the idea.

"What is happening?" Marcus mouthed in shock.

What was happening indeed? Didn't he know who you were? His lack of fear was the most shocking part of this whole interaction. Surely he wasn't one of Caleb's newest edition of collected ghosts. Another soul he had taken, or made Willie lure him in to take it while he's blindsighted by the pretty picture Caleb paints for him. For once you wanted to lay your claim on a soul. To rub it in Caleb's face for stealing your portion of the bargain. You extended your hand out to him and asked him what any wise girl would do. You asked for his name.

"I'm Luke." He took your hand gently. Unaware of the marking you placed under his skin. Your bargains, your markings, were more subtle than Caleb's, where he wanted to show them off, you kept yours hidden behind a mere handshake. Along with the idea of never actually telling them you had done so.

"Pleasure." Your grip on his hand remained firm and tight as your eyes searched his own. You could already envision Caleb brewing with envy once he sees you and Luke engaging in a friendly, and dare you say romantic conversation. Luke didn't appear to know the full truth of what was going on. He appeared to be so blindly curious and unaware. So you went ahead and lit a spark to that curiosity as you pressed a finger to the back of his hand, caressing the length of it.

"Luke," you said slowly, testing it out. The name sounded nice; it rolled off your tongue perfectly. Luke, Luke, Luke. He would be your plaything for tonight, perhaps another time as well should you choose to extend that privilege. You felt a tinge of regret for marking a soul as pure as his, you could feel his warmth the second he sat down, but that was soon washed away with his charming grin; it made you want to make him break his moral barriers all the more. He seemed so different from the others, he was your next perfect leverage on Caleb. "I'm Y/n." You leaned forward, Luke's eyes falling in a daze at your sultry voice and doe eyes.

"Y/n..." He breathed out, mesmerized.

"Marcus I want a private space." You turned to the poor lad who was still stunned that this one guy alone was able to sweeten you down like honey. Get on your good side in the blink of an eye. "Now!"

Willie had paced back and forth, going over what he would say to Caleb as he waited for him at the bottom steps of his dressing room. When the man of the hour finally descended the steps Willied perked up.

"Oh hey um, Caleb." He smiled. "I brought those ghosts I met, um it's still cool they're here right?"

"Of course William! I even reserved a special table for them." Caleb shrugged him off nonchalantly.

"Woah! Uh alright, um thank you!" Willie reeled back, not expecting him to do something so nice.

"No, no, thank you!" Caleb sipped at his tea and watched as Willie made his way to leave but turned the wrong way.

"That way!" Willie laughed as he turned to go in the right direction this time.

"Hey William, while I have you here. Make sure to let me know when Y/n has arrived. I need a least half an hour to ready myself before her arrival."

"Oh, Y/n? She's already here." Willie shook his head confused, hadn't he known?

Certainly not, it appeared.

"What!" Caleb screeched, making Willie to flinch. The cup in his hands clattered onto the steps. Willie shrunk in on himself as Caleb berated him. "You useless monkey, why do I even keep you around? Oh my god, I'm not even dressed. Quick go make sure she gets everything she wants. Hopefully not my soul...Whatever she wants give it to her. A lifer's soul, it's hers. I don't care. I need to go look presentable. Go!" Willie straightened out as he walked away from Caleb's dressing room with haste. Caleb ordered staff to make sure you remained in a good mood. He was late, you had been earlier than expected and he was about to lose his shit.

When Caleb dispersed from the dancers and band, you had rolled your eyes as he made his entrance past the golden curtain.

He gulped nervously when his eyes danced back and forth between you sitting back on the sofa, and Luke kissing down your neck like a lovesick puppy. You hadn't stopped his attack on your skin. Caleb straightened out, clearly his throat to make his presence known.

"I don't like being kept waiting, Caleb, I have better things to do." Your voice broke in soft breaths as Luke found your sweet spot.

"Y/n, nice to have you back my sweet. We've missed your presence at the club and I-"

"Don't patronize me, ghost." You rolled your head back against the cushion.

"Ah, I see you've found our special guest of the night." He laughed nervously. "Have we bored you already, the night has only just begun." Caleb was thankful he didn't have to find you in a much more compromising situation. As he watched your hand run through Luke’s hair, a pang of emotion rose in him, jealousy? Anger? Regret? He felt his emotions bubble over as he watched Luke's lips meet your collarbones, his hands running down your back to your waist. Caleb bit his lip to keep an audible curse from escaping his lips.

You smirked, he was lucky that Luke wasn't getting too ahead of himself, but seeing how things were playing out at the moment it wouldn't take much for Luke to slip. Your attention turned back to him once Luke's lips had moved elsewhere on your body.

"Caleb, how stupid do you think I am?" Your question had caught him off guard.

He was speechless for a few moments before he regained his composure. He laughed a bit in your face. "Y/n, it's obvious," He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "He's a soul I promise to you in our deal. I got two more waiting on you out on the floor."

Luke's head dropped lower to your chest, his kisses stooping lower down your blouse. Caleb's eyes narrowed at the sight.

"Luke's already mine." You sigh in contentment. "I meant about the souls you’re taking for yourself, Caleb."

"What of them?" Caleb's face remained emotionless. He kept his arms crossed while your head was nuzzled into Luke's neck, you were barely holding on to the conversation while your chest had been preoccupied with Luke's hot breaths. His hands slide up and down your body.

"You can't even deny you've broken our bargain." You reminded him, your mind clouded with the sensation of his kisses. "You know what happens when people cross me, Caleb." You giggled as your breath hitched with every word spoken. You placed a hand over Luke's curls to stop him from continuing his kisses down your torso, his lips rested on your chest instead.

"Surely, we can work something out." He begins softly.

"I don't think so." You spoke plainly, your eyes finally focusing on Caleb. Your hands placed on the back of the sofa, you were feeling a bit confident and sassy, something Caleb hadn't seen for a good while, not with him at least. You sit up causing Luke to fall off you. You grip his chin gently and turn his face towards Caleb. You watch as the ghost shrinks back into the shell of the man that he is as Luke's gorgeous brown eyes flash red at him.

You staked your claim on him. "You touch the other two, and this all goes away." You gesture to the room, to the entirety of the club. "I’m going to need Willie's soul by the strike of midnight. Poor thing needs a break from you seeing as you can't do your job properly. He's mine until I say so. You understand, Caleb." You recline back into the cushion.

"Yes ma'am." He nods, feeling like a child being scolded.

"You can see yourself out now. It's like you said; the night is only getting started." Your angelic laugh is one for his nightmares. Not to mention your red eyes. You hold his gaze as you push down on Luke's curls, his body sinking to the carpet before you. "You might not want to stay around for this next part Caleb. Wouldn't want to traumatize you as it is." Caleb gasps and turns in place of the sound of your zipper being pulled.

Caleb's jaw went slack. His head tilted to the side. He tried hard to hide his surprise, but he wasn't sure what he should have said in this occurrence. "Right… I will be leaving. Enjoy yourselves." He uttered stiffly. Caleb retreated out of the room.

Luke's warm hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them slightly. His lips moved back up to your neck. His fingertips trailed lightly along your collarbone, his breath hot, you could feel his blood rushing. Once you were sure Caleb was out of earshot you pulled Luke up by the collar of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" Luke's dazed-out look had you feeling a smidge of guilt. "I thought we were having fun?" He breathed out a laugh as he tried to lean in to kiss you.

"It's not that kind of business, baby. Another time." You gripped his chin and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x fem!reader #jatp luke patterson imagine #jatp x reader #jatp imagines #my gif #writings by juls

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writemekpop · 3 months

Text

Bad Girl | Jung Jaehyun

Summary: Jung Jaehyun is the first guy you’ve ever met who isn’t attracted to you. You’re determined to seduce him.

Genre: Enemies to lovers AU

Word Count: 1.5k

As you walked into the first play rehearsal, you felt your heart stutter.

A painfully hot guy was standing by the cast-only coffee table. He was tall, statuesque, in a long black coat and glasses. His chest strained at the fabric of his white shirt, as if his stiff body couldn’t be contained.

"Hey, you must be Jung Jaehyun," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. Now, you just had to wait for him to start drooling - guys couldn't resist you.

"Afternoon," Jaehyun said. He barely glanced at you. Was he gay or something? "Thank goodness you're here, we're out of tea."

You blinked. "Sorry…I’m your co-lead? I play Margot Warner, your character's wife?"

He stretched out his hand to shake yours, stiffly. "Apologies - I thought you were the coffee girl."

Damn it, even his cold stare of indifference was sexy.

"Let’s start with the argument scene," the director said.

You and Jaehyun took centre stage. "Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" you breathed, looking into his eyes. "My touch?" You twined your fingers in his heavenly soft hair. "My kiss?"

Standing on your tiptoes, you squeezed a kiss to his lips. They were cool as marble.

Jaehyun stared into your eyes. Now, overcome with desire, his character was meant to tear the buttons off your shirt and pull you close, just as the lights dimmed.

But Jaehyun stepped away from you. "Time out!" He sighed. "I just cannot understand what my character sees in hers. Why does he suddenly give in?"

The director nodded. "He’s right. We need some chemistry here, guys! This is… PG-13 at best.”

Jaehyun looked at you. "Listen, you may have never seduced a man, but you are going to have to pretend. That is of course, what actors do."

You could just strangle him. Never seduced a man? Jaehyun thought he was so much better than you, with his stupid little theatre degree from Harvard.

You didn’t need a fancy degree to be a good actor. Plus, you could eat Harvard boys for breakfast - and you had. You’d tasted half the football team, in fact.

Four hours later, you still hadn’t got the scene.

The director looked like he'd had enough. "Sort out the chemistry by tomorrow, or I’m firing one of you. Which one do you think I should fire?"

"Him!" you said, at the same time as Jaehyun snapped, 'Her!"

You stormed up the stairs of the auditorium to get your bag from one the seats. Chemistry problem. Bullshit. That was like saying Albert Einstein had an intelligence problem.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jaehyun said.

A tiny shiver ran down your spine.

"Are you really going to give up on the scene that easily?" Jaehyun taunted. "I've seen chihuahas with longer attention spans."

"It’s tough acting against a brick wall," you shot back.

Jaehyun shuddered. "If I have to teach you how to act, I will. Come here."

You walked over to him.

"Margot is trying to seduce her husband. Your acting is too unidimensional!"

"Uni-what?" you said.

"Obvious! You're playing it too obvious," Jaehyun said. "I can see why that would be a problem for you. The whole Barbie thing usually does the trick with men, doesn't it? With your tight dresses and your… long legs. " He glanced at your body, and quickly looked away. But you’d noticed.

You smirked. "So you think I'm hot."

Jaehyun scoffed. "What I'm saying is, you need to play the role with your whole body. Subtle - yet hair-raising." He grabbed your script. "I'll try Margot. Watch and learn."

Jaehyun stepped towards you.

On the surface, nothing had changed. But Jaehyun was a different man. His face was flushed, his breaths shaky. His eyes kept flashing to your lips, like it took everything in him not to kiss you.

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing?" he said quietly, his black eyes searching yours. "My touch?" He twined his fingers in your hair, and you couldn't hide the sound of your breath catching.

Every inch of your skin was alive.

"My kiss?"

Jaehyun kissed you. His lips were so much gentler than you'd expected. You knew it was just acting, but Jaehyun seemed so into you it made him nervous. His whole body trembled with desire.

You pulled back, struggling to catch your breath. That kiss was hair-raising.

Something told you Jaehyun wasn't that good an actor.

Jaehyun pulled back, his face flushed, a pink cloud of lipstick rimming his mouth. He was biting his plump lips, almost as if he was fighting a smile. "Clear?"

You smiled. "You've forgotten the end of the scene."

An unreadable expression flashed over Jaehyun’s face.

“How did it end again?” he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours.

Your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s lips. “Margot and Lewis find the time to… reconnect.” Your fingers found the opening of Jaehyun’s shirt. “To get to know each other again.”

Jaehyun gulped. “I thought they hated each other.” You started unbuttoning Jaehyun’s shirt, one button at a time. He shivered under your touch. “Hate and love aren’t as different as you think,” you said.

You abandoned Jaehyun’s shirt on the seats. His body belonged in an art gallery, a sculptor’s impression of the perfect man. Only, Jaehyun was not still and cold anymore. His chest was rising and falling, his flesh hot.

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving in,” Jaehyun said. “I still abhor you.”

“And I still don’t give a damn what abhor means,” you said, smirking. Jaehyun hoisted your leg up against his hip. His lips met yours now, hungrily, no script to lead the way.

On the couch in Jaehyun's big New York apartment, you smirked down at him, stroking his chest. "How was that for seducing a man?"

"Excellent work," Jaehyun said in mock-seriousness, trying not to look ridiculous despite still panting. "Highly commendable."

“You know…” you said, nuzzling into his chest, “if you were so into me, why did you act like a jerk?” “I’m married,” he said.

You felt a pang of disappointment.

“Divorced, to be precise,” Jaehyun continued. “Eight years. She was my… my first.” He spoke into your hair now. “I didn’t know what to do with the way I felt about you. I know I’m just a fling to you, but-“ “You’re not,” you said, moving to meet his eyes. He was gnawing at his plump lip, and you smoothed your finger over it, stopping him. “The way I felt last night… let’s just say I don’t get that a lot.” Your voice dropped. “Or ever.” “Are you saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?” Jaehyun said, turning you around so he was hovering over you, wearing a smug smirk.

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to earn that title…” you said, fixing your fingers in his hair.

The next day, when you returned to rehearsal, something had changed. “You- um, you first,” Jaehyun said, gesturing to the coffee pot.

“No, really, you,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. You had no idea how to act professionally now. Should you touch Jaehyun? Smile at him? Ignore him completely?

You both broke out into laughter.

When it came to that scene, however, you and Jaehyun fought the urge to rush to the end.

"Does my gaze make you feel nothing - my touch - my kiss, blah blah blah..." you mumbled, then pulled Jaehyun towards you in a kiss that made you weak in the knees.

A lot of the director’s throat-clearing later, Jaehyun finally prised you off him, and you stood next to each other. The spotlights were a little blurry – or was that your eyes?

The director started a slow clap, his mouth ajar.

"Will these two set the house on fire? I think so!" He walked towards you, lowering his voice. "But really, how did you do it? What's the secret?"

You grinned at Jaehyun. "We were just acting. That is, of course, what actors do."

—

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norrisleclercf1 · 4 months

Text

Tennessee Whiskey

Pairing: Country Singer!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: PG-17

Words: 7.3K

Warnings: None really, just language, the dickhead known as Rhett

Requested: Yes/No

Songs: Save a Horse, Ride a cowboy by Big & Rich, Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton, Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts, She's Country by Jason Aldean, What Hurts the Most by Rascal Flatts, All-American Girl by Carrie Underwood, Jolene by Dolly Parton, Bless these Broken Roads by Rascal Flatts, Fancy by Reba McEntire, What Ifs by Kane Brown

Synopsis: You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You're as sweet as strawberry wine

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

Some country songs just write themselves

A/N: I want to thank @monzamash for giving me the idea of how they met but also @vintaqestar for fueling this even more. And also Chris Stapleton for me listening to song and giving me the inpsiration. @bibissparkles

"Welcome to Nashville," Lando smiles brightly at the older gentleman holding his hand.

Nashville, Tennessee. That's where Lando was currently, here for a Jack Daniel's event. He's never been to Nashville, but he is standing in the back room of a cramped yet packed bar. Jack was releasing a new bottle, a special one with McLaren on it. Fans and nonfans alike were here for the event.

He was also told that some country singers would be there. The base was thumping, and the thick smell of smoke and alcohol had his throat tightening. Oscar was leaning against a wall, probably not wise as Lando had touched it, and it was sticky. Yet, Oscar looked the most relaxed Lando had ever seen.

"You bunch sure know how to throw a party," Oscar voices, a little louder than usual. But with the southern drawl of some singer, a song about a tractor that is somehow sexy. "How is a tractor sexy?" Lando whispers, lips right against Oscar's ear. The Aussie turns and shrugs his shoulder. "I don't think they care, look." Oscar points to the crowd.

Oscar was right; Lando was watching people sing and do some type of synchronized dancing. "What are they doing?" The older gentleman, whose name Lando couldn't remember, something like Dan, laughed loudly. "It's called line dancing." Oscar and Lando share a look and just shrug their shoulders. "When do we go out?" Oscar asks, but Dan waves his hand.

"Ah hell, you ain't gonna go on stage, boys; you're behind the bar. We don't showboat out here. Unless you're like them," Dan, maybe Cash, points, and Lando looks over. He sucks in a breath seeing a woman holding a torched guitar. It was gorgeous, with dark wood, but through the low lights, it looked like fire was taken to give it this smokey look. "That's The Cadillac's. A new band, but damn, they think they're going to clean house at the CMA's." Dan yells, tipping his hat.

Lando stopped listening, though, unable to take his eyes off the woman with the guitar. With their hair pulled back and a black cowboy hat placed on their head. Oscar looks over at what has Lando's attention and chuckles. "Hey, who is that?" Oscar asks, pointing to who Lando is staring at. "Eh, oh, that's Y/n L/n, the lead singer. Sweet, sweet girl. Born and raised here in the south, want me to introduce you two?" "Yes," "No," Oscar and Lando answer simultaneously.

"Excuse Lando, he gets nervous meeting new people. We'd love to meet them." Oscar chuckles, and Dan smiles and pulls the two drivers over.

"Honestly, what even is a McLaren?" Your drummer, Cassie asks, fixing her belt buckle. She earned something from Barrel Racin and would cut anyone for touching it. "I think it's a type of car, Y/N?" You whip your head up at your bassist Judd asks, poking you. "What? Yeah, it's a car, but this is for Formula 1. I said yes to this cause it's Jackie's bar. We started here, guys; just be polite." You urge knowing that Cassie and Judd tended to get in some trouble.

"We'll be on our best behavior, ma'am." Judd tips his hat, and you just roll your eyes. "Kids!" You three turn, seeing Jackie barreling towards you with two young men dressed in Vols orange. "Y/n, this is Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri; they're the drivers for this fancy party." Jackie laughs and pats the one named Lando on the back. "Nice to meet ya'll," You stick out your hand.

Lando mumbles back a hello but doesn't shake your hand. "Oscar," You turn, and what you assume is the oldest of the two shakes your hand. "Y/n, nice to meet ya." Oscar smiles, but you turn back to Lando and give him a small smile. "Well, um, catch ya later." You clear your throat, and Lando looks up and nods.

"Yeah, gotta a crowd to sing to," Judd places his arm over your shoulders, and you can tell he is staring down at Lando. "And I gotta get these boys behind the bar," You wave off Jackie, smile at Lando, and nod your head at Oscar as you three take the stage.

Lando jumps a little at the roar that builds into the building, even on the street. This place was shaking alone with just the cheer of the crowd. "Here, and don't worry about making difficult orders, just the ones with the new whiskey. You two should be fine." Dan says, or Jackie, actually. "Thanks!" Oscar laughs as Lando can't pull his eyes off the stage.

"Hello, Nashville. Now, let's give a big warm welcome to our other half from across the pond. McLaren Formula 1 Team!" You scream; a bright light lands on Lando as people cheer, and Oscar has to nudge him to wave. "Alright, we're all here to drink but also dance, so let me introduce myself to you, lovely people. I'm Y/n, and we're The Cadillacs. We're gonna start off with a good one. So sing if you know it, dance, who cares." You laugh.

"I've known you since Brad and Angelina

We go back like Pontiac seats

If I got an aisle with a mess I gotta clean up

I know you'll be showin' up with bleach, hmm."

Lando smiles, hearing the opening lyrics, and people quickly move, grabbing someone to dance with as the sound of the violin and guitar complement one another.

All those names that we don't ever speak of

Got a couple nights that have slipped my mind

Proof and photographs have been deleted

If you ever needed an alibi

'Cause dirt on you is dirt on me

And we both know our hands ain't clean

If it all blows up and we end up on the news

If you go down, I'm going down too

"Hey, can I get a whiskey sour?" Someone yells, and Lando snaps his head away from you and to the woman before him, and he nods. Lando hums along, even going as far as to tap his foot to the beat.

It's a good thing we're each other's kinda crazy

Ain't no judgment or keepin' score

If you rob a bank, I'm your getaway Mercedes

God knows that's what friends are for

'Cause dirt on you is dirt on me

And we both know our hands ain't clean

If it all blows up and we end up on the news

If you go down, I'm going down too

If you go down, I'm going down too, yeah

"They're pretty good. The crowd loves them!" Oscar yells, handing off 3 beers, and the cowboys yell and head off, the crowd growing more with each passing minute. Like the music was drawing them in more than them. Which was probably true.

I keep all your secrets by the dozen

You know where my skeletons sleep

Hypothetically, if you ever kill your husband

Hand on the Bible, I'd be lyin' through my teeth

'Cause dirt on you is dirt on me

And we both know our hands ain't clean

If it all blows up and we end up on the news

If you go down, I'm going down too

Our bodies are buried, and they're in the same ditch

So even if I wanted to, I can't snitch

30 to life would go quicker with you, yeah

Smiling at the crowd, you can't help but pull your attention to the bar, seeing Lando bop his head and smile brightly. You feel this lightness in your chest when you see his smile; he is adorable. But he was also gorgeous in this unique way; you could stare at him for hours. Unsure why, you're glad he was enjoying your song, which was currently snug at number 1 in the charts.

So, if you go down, I'm going down too

If you go down, I'm going down too

You finish off the ending and sigh as the crowd roars, and you scan it and see Lando smiling and clapping loudly. You blush and look back at the crowd and then at Judd and Cassie. "Hey? One of the oldies?" You ask, knowing the crowd would love it. "Fuck yeah!" Judd laughs, knowing the next song is about your ex. A nasty piece of work.

"Alright, one more 'cause we've got some great talent here. Now, how about a song warning men what happens when you cheat on a good ole southern girl?" You laugh seeing men groan, but the woman jumping up and down. This was the song that catapulted your career.

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp

And she's probably gettin' frisky

Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink

'Cause she can't shoot whiskey

Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick

Showin' her how to shoot a combo

And he doesn't know

Lando's eyes snap up at you on the stage, hearing the dark rumble change in how you started to change and how you give yourself a deep southern drawl. Lando laughs as he watches you lean into the song, singing your heart out as you hit each note with emotions. Lando shudders, hating to be the guy this song was written about.

He doesn't know how it happened, but Lando ends up singing along with the crowd and starts to jump when Cassie hits the drums and joins in on the chorus. "Maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats!" Lando yells and watches the stage go dark. "Damn, the group got a new fan?" Lando blushes when Oscar nudges him, but he just looks away. Something about you was pulling him in.

"I sure hope so!" Lando jumps, hearing your accent right there. Damn, you looked good. Lando melted slightly with a light shine to your skin, hair a little messy, and cheeks wide from your smile. "Want some water?" Lando freezes, hating that's what he started with. You giggle and lean over the bar, not caring for the way your skin is sucked into it now. "How about a double shot of whiskey? Think ya could do that?" You ask, staring at Lando.

"Yeah," He breathes, and you giggle, jumping back down as you watch him move behind the bar and fix the drink. "Hey, how old are you?" Oscar turns and gives a lopsided grin. "I'm 22, Lando is 24." Your eyes grow wide, hearing that Lando is the oldest among them. "Really? For sure, I thought it was you." You laugh, Lando blushing even harder.

"Here," He slides the glass over, and you smile, taking a sip. "Damn, good whiskey." Lando chuckles and hands off some other drinks. "So, what is Formula 1?" Lando turns, and you swear you feel your chest flutter. He had gorgeous eyes that were the perfect blend of blue and green. "It's international racing," "So you travel the world? That's gotta be fun," You yell as people cheer for the next act.

"I guess! It's tiring after a while, but we meet cool people." Lando leans onto the counter, giving you a little smirk. "Am I one of those cool people?" You flirt. Lando chuckles and looks away with a blush. "Yeah," He breathes. "Yeah, you are." Taking another sip of your whiskey, you put it down and lean in. "Good, 'cause I think you're pretty cool too."

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"Damn, they sure know how to party." Oscar groans, rolling his neck as Lando helps you pack up. "It's the southern, just be happy football wasn't going on." Judd laughs, slapping the poor kid on the back. Oscar, much smaller than your bassist stumbles forward. "And we have to do this all over again Friday." Cassie sighs, pulling her jet black hair out of its braids.

"Hey, if you're not doing anything, um, would you like to join us for the week?" You ask, fiddling with your fingers. Lando looks up, Oscar being pulled away by Judd and Cassie like he was a little boy. "Um, I'd have to check my schedule." He mumbles, wondering what exactly McLaren would have him do until Friday.

"Oh, yeah, you're probably busy." You chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. "Nope, he's not busy. As long as you have him back by Friday night, you can keep him." Lando jumps, seeing Jon there all of a sudden. "Where'd you come from?" Lando squeaks, feeling bashful as if a parent just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. "The hotel and Miss. L/n, whatever you want to do with him, go crazy." Jon smiles and slaps his hands down on Lando's shoulders.

"Well," Lando can see your confidence inflate again and smiles, feeling himself grow comfortable. "How about showing this Brit the southern life? We're going back to my ranch upstate; how about it?" You ask, leaning against a speaker. Lando thinks it over, though he wants to say yes immediately. "Yes, I'd love to." Your smile grows so that even your cheeks puff out.

"Great, I might want to say your goodbyes now. There is no cell service in those parts. Real nice," Lando pulls out his phone and hands it to Jon. "No need for cell service when you've got no phone." Judd laughs and tips his hat. "I like you," Lando nods in agreement, and Jon makes a noise. "Just tell Zak, well, I don't know, but tell him I would get injured." "Yeah, we won't have a pretty boy here riding horses," Cassie calls, and Jon looks between you and Lando.

"Alright, just be careful." Jon waves Oscar over, who gives Lando a thumbs up and out of the bar. Lando chuckles and turns, balking when Judd is staring at him. "You stick out like a sore thumb." Judd muses, ruffling his dirty blonde hair. "Hey, Y/n, pretty boy here should change, don't you think? Or else those fans of him will totally notice him." You haul up your guitar and look him over.

Black joggers, a bright neon papaya sweatshirt, and black sneakers. "Do you own jeans?" Lando nods, but Cassie snorts. "Not skinny jeans, like wranglers or something?" She walks around him, checking him out. "Um, no?" "Well, we hit Broadway and get him a new fit." Judd muses, and you blush; Lando would look good in a cowboy hat.

"Come on," You finish loading everything up and watch the trunk pull off, leaving you four outside. Lando follows you, but you reach back and lace your fingers together. "Careful around here. Drunks and others won't hesitate to pickpocket ya. So, stay close." Lando doesn't even bother pulling his hand away, loving the weight of yours in his. "In here," Judd shoves you 3 into the door and laughs when you stumble into the store owner glaring but stop seeing who it is.

"Judy boy!" "What up, old man? Think you can do a makeover here for our boy!" Judd points behind him, and the owner looks him over. "Of course, bring him here." Lando doesn't know what happened, only that he's shoved into a room and returned wearing a black t-shirt, cowboy-cut jeans, and perfectly fitted black cowboy boots. "Now, the hat." Judd muses, and you giggle, sitting on a stool.

"Lookin good," Lando turns and stutters, seeing your hair free. Wow, he was awestruck by you, hat off, and he finally got an honest look at you. "Pretty," He whispers, and Cassie snorts but muffles it when Judd glares her. "Hey, Bud, add in some orange, will ya'? It's um, shit, forgot your name, pretty boy." Judd laughs, and Lando can't help but join in. "Lando," You and Lando say at the same time.

You look away when Bud starts to make the hat, and Lando can't help but turn to you. "What got you into singing?" You look up and smile, and Lando knows that smile. It was the smile of someone who remembered their first time falling in love. "My daddy, he was a farmer. I'm the oldest, so he'd wake me up, and we'd check the fields together. Every morning before school, no matter the rain, sun, or cold, it didn't matter. It was hard work, but he'd have this little radio. He'd turn it on, and we'd sing together. Some of the best memories I have are with that old bugger." You smile, looking down.

"Does he come to your shows?" You take a deep breath and clear your throat. "No, not anymore. He passed about 3 years ago." Lando curses himself, but he stops seeing your soft smile. "He's not in person, but I have him onstage with me for each show. The guitar I got?" Lando nods, knowing the one; it looked old but was a gorgeous piece. "He gave it to me, same as my hat." You jump off the stole and rock forward to lean on the counter.

"Almost done there, Bud? We gotta long drive home," You yell, and Bud just curses you, but you giggle and bump your shoulders into Lando's.

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

"Wakey, wakey," Lando groans, feeling something wet touch his face, and he pats it away. "Lando, come on, you gotta wake up." "Mhn go away Osc," Lando hears Oscar tsk and kicks him, rolling off the bed with a screech. "What the hell, mate!" Instead of Oscar, all 6'4 of Judd stood a very shirtless Judd. "Breakfast will be gone soon; it's better to go eat. Then we can go," Judd leaves the room, and Lando turns, seeing the large Bluetick Coonhound named Rusty staring at him.

"Don't drool on me, please," Rusty opens his mouth and barks loudly, with Lando chuckling, "Yeah, yeah, alright." Lando stands and moves, staring at the new clothes given to him. Sliding in jeans and a t-shirt, he threw on the baseball cap and walked out barefoot. "Good morning," you sing, and Lando sighs; he could get used to this.

"Judd said we're going somewhere?" You turn and smile. "We're going fishing." Lando makes a disgusted face that has Cassie spitting out her coffee. "Oh shit, if he makes that face again, I'll piss myself.' Cassie cackles, which has Judd chuckling as well. "Scared of a little fishie?" "They're disgusting." You shake your head as Lando shivers.

"Really? You at them just fine last night." Slapping your spatula down, you see Judd with a blank face. "Judd," You hiss, "Hey, don't pass out, pretty boy," You turn and gasp, seeing Lando whiter than white. "Lando, he's joking. We didn't fish last night. It's just a joke." You plead and help him sit down on a stool. "Promise? Promise that wasn't fish?" He asks, eyes wide, and you bite your bottom lip. "I promise that wasn't fish." You explain; great, now you'd have to lie about what Bass was for the rest of his life.

"Shit," Judd chokes into his mug, and you glare at him. "Go take the dog out," You hiss and watch as Judd takes Rusty out. "Don't you have something to do as well? You've already eaten." You point to Cassie, who looks up and groans. "But, I want more." She whines, and you huff, "It's for Lando and me. Now go." Cassie huffs and shoves on her boots and stalks off outside into the cool air.

"Was it really fish?" Lando asks, and you look down. The poor boy's lips were swollen from chewing on them, and his eyes were wide. "No, it wasn't fish. Judd was just fucking with you." You giggle, trying so hard to not laugh. "Good, 'cause last night was good, but if it was fish, ugh." Lando sticks out his tongue, and you turn back to ensure you didn't fire the bacon.

"Okay, well, how about getting me the orange juice. Coffee?" You ask, pointing at the pot, and he shakes his head. "Don't drink it; I'll take the juice, though." He opens the fridge and grabs it, pouring two glasses. "I'm glad you know how to cook, I suck at it." You snort on a laugh and flip the bacon. "I'll teach you how to make eggs." Your grandma would always tell you someone needed to know how to cook at least one thing. "I'll burn the house down." But you roll your eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"Now, grab me four eggs," You point to the cart. "Crack them open into that bowl and then scramble them." You instruct. Lando cracks them open but stops staring at them. "Do I shake them?" You laugh, plate the bacon, and turn the eye down. "No, take that fork and stir hard, but not too hard. You get them everywhere." You instruct and go to the oven and take out four fluffy biscuits.

Lando nods and stirs the eggs, and you watch, ensuring he doesn't make a mess. "Perfect," You wipe your hands and turn the eye of the stove back on. "Now, come here." Lando walks over, and you giggle. "With the eggs, Lando." "Right, knew that," He mumbles and grabs the bowl, and you place him in front of the stove. "Next step, pour the eggs in. Some spray the pan, but I just finished cookin bacon, and the grease will add extra flavor." "Jesus, this one meal will fuck up my diet." "Stop," You pinch his side, and he yelps, but you both start laughing.

"Okay, pour the eggs," Lando does as you say, and you grab a plastic spoon and hand it to him. "wait a minute. then take the spoon, pull the eggs off the ring of the pan, and start bunching them up, and then like you were stirring them, it'll break them up." You explain and watch as Lando does as you say. "Stop, that's perfect." You take the pan, add fresh eggs to the plate, and smile. "And there you go, you just made eggs." Lando smiles brightly and leans forward but stops and pulls back.

Clearing his throat, he smiles and grabs your plates. "Where, too?" He asks, and you point outside, cursing yourself for thinking he would kiss you. You two just met; why would he do that. Pushing the screen door open and hearing the comforting snap of it, you groan. "Woooo, that was painful," You turn and see Judd leaning on the counter.

"Fuck off, Judy," But it had no bite to it. "Hey, just sayin, but he was going to kiss you." Judd winks and walks off, heading somewhere deep into the cabin. Rolling your eyes, you grab your orange juice cups and see Lando sitting on the outside bar, watching the sunrise. "This is wish when I had my phone, to take pictures of this." You set the cups down, sliding into your own chair. "No, you don't. It's stuff like this you don't want your phone for. Just enjoy." You grumble and bite into your eggs, and Lando shrugs.

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

"I thought you meant fishing on a boat?" Lando groans, trudging through the woods. "Hell no, a bunch of tourists are here, and this is a secret little place Y/n and I found as kids. So be nice. We don't tell anyone about this place." Cassie yells back, and you giggle at Lando's long sigh. "Why'd you bring the guitar?" Lando asks you, seeing the soft cover hanging off your back. "Sometimes, being out here gives me good inspiration." Lando hums and sees Cassie and Judd stop.

"Finally," "Nuhuh, pretty boy. You and Y/n are going further up." Judd boops Lando's nose, who whimpers and hangs his head. "Aren't you supposed to be an athlete? Where's that stamina?" Judd teases. "I'm not built to dig around the southern woods, much less in these temps." "Stop your complaining and go," Judd shoves Lando, and you two walk further from there.

"They're fishing; we're just going to relax upriver. Or did you really think we'd make you fish?" Lando thinks it over and then sees you're not carrying fishing poles and that Cassie and Judd had most of them. "Oh, didn't even cross my mind, honestly." Smiling, you lead the way and stop seeing the clearing that has the river in front of it. "Hey, Whiskey, tell me we can stop now." Lando groans, and you turn, confused at who he is talking to. "What?" Lando looks up and stops. "Whiskey, it's your nickname. Since the first thing that got you and me talking was whiskey." You're glad your face is already flushed, or Lando would see the giant blush covering your entire face.

"Oh, uh, ahaha yeah, we can stop here." You place your guitar down, fluff out the blanket, and grab bug spray and sunscreen. "Come here. You'll cook like cornbread in a cast iron." Lando turns with confusion on his face that has you smiling. "You'll burn Lando. Come here so I can put sunscreen on you." You explain as he shrugs off his shirt. "Shit," You whisper, and his eyes cast up. "What? Something wrong?" As he spins around looking for something.

"Wha, oh no, nothing, here." You hand the sunscreen to him, looking away from him. Lando takes it and smiles as he sprays everything on you. Removing your top, he easily applies it to you as well.

You don't know how much time passes under the southern sun, but the soft breeze makes it bearable for you and Lando. "What are you writing?" His voice was smooth, like the wind was barely touching you. "A new song," You reply and scratch out some words. "Well, I figured that, Whiskey, but I meant, what exactly are you writing?" Lando rolls over onto his stomach, hands under his chin as he looks up at you through his lashes. "Oh, well, it's something new. I doubt the fans would like it." You comment, fixing the guitar settled on your knee.

"That I doubt. I don't usually listen to country, but if from the songs I've heard from you if this new song is anything like the ones I know, people will love it." Lando smiles, smile brighter than the damn sun. "Yeah, well, Rhett would disagree with you there." You snort, "Whose Rhett?" Lando sits up now, eyebrows bunched.

"My ex, he's a bull rider. Cassie's older brother," You add on, and Lando rolls his eyes. "Well, Rhett is a jackass." You giggle and look at him. "You don't even know him," "I know he clearly didn't support you. Your new song will be awesome. Play it for me." Lando scoots closer, and you lean back, unsure if you should. "It's different," You whisper.

"Different is good. It heals the soul sometimes. Now, play." Lando demands, eyes boring into yours. "Fine." You grumble and peel the guitar off your sweaty knee onto your lap. "It'd sound better with my electric guitar, okay, just don't judge." You warn, but Lando shakes his head no. "I'd never judge you, Whiskey."

Okay," You take a deep breath, strum the first couple of strings, and start singing the words.

Used to spend my nights out in a barroom

Liquor was the only love I'd known

But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom

And brought me back from bein' too far gone

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You're as sweet as strawberry wine

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

I've looked for love in all the same old places

Found the bottom of a bottle's always dry

But when you poured out your heart, I didn't waste it

'Cause there's nothin' like your love to get me high

And you're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You're as sweet as strawberry wine

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

When you finish, you sigh and look at Lando, who is staring at you. "Ugh, god, I knew it! This song sucks. Listen, there is supposed to be a guitar solo, and I probably won't even give it my record. Ugh!" You yell and flop back, squinting at the sun. "That was," you brace yourself for the lashing for how different it wasn't you or the image you were giving the world. It was different, and people would stop listening to you and the band.

"THE BEST SONG EVERY" "What!" You sit up as Lando launches himself at you, pushing you back down and hovering over you. You swallow hard, focusing on his chain dangling around his neck. "Whiskey, that was fabulous. You have to give your record label that song. And finish it; I want to hear all of it, promise me." He pleads, and you nod your head as he pulls off you; sitting up, you blink, trying to control the urge to devour his lips.

"Oi! Love birds, time to go in. Can smell the rain coming!" Lando hops up and nods as you just quietly pack up your guitar. Lando walks past, but Judd stops you. "Do I need to kick his ass?" He whispers, and you shake your head. "No," "Then what's wrong, Y/n?" "He believes in me," Judd lets his hand slip, and you walk off, leaving your friend smirking.

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"Ugh, I'm stuffed. Seriously, tell me what this is." Lando gives Cassie and Judd puppy eyes, but they just share a look and quickly snatch all the plates. "Nope," Lando deflates and groans, and goes over to the radio and turns it up slightly. The storm and music make a perfect blend. You four were out under the tin roof of the large porch. It was about 12 ft by 12ft and had a built-in fireplace.

It was where your grandpa would come and pick with his band, and now, where you sit and do the same thing. You swear, sometimes you can still hear that damn banjo or violin. You lean back in your rocking chair, the same one he sat in and taught you how to play, Lando coming up and sitting beside you.

"Friday is in 4 days," He whispers, and you clear your throat, hating the thought of Lando leaving. "I know, and it's probably best we get there early." You reply, tightening your hand on the beer bottle. "Teach me how to dance." You turn, shocked by the change of subject. "Judd told me you're taking me to some get-together and that there will be line dancing. So teach me." You blink at him and sigh, "I don't know how to." Lando chuckles and stands.

"Okay, then just dance with me." Lando holds his hand out to you, staring at you, gently lacing your fingers together. Lando tugs you up, and you quickly melt together as you don't listen to the music. Just the way his hand holds yours and the weight of his arm on your waist. "Screw it," You whisper and place your head on his shoulder, nose brushing his neck. "I have to leave for Begas after Friday's event." "Be quiet." Not wanting to hear about him leaving.

"Whiskey, I don't want to leave, but you know," "Lando, just dance with me." You whisper, effectively making the Brit snap his mouth closed.

"Judy," Cassie whispers and gently pokes Judd, who groans and opens his eyes. "What," He grumbles and yawns stretching. "Think it's about him?" Cassie whispers, and Judd turns his head and sees you and Lando dancing more to the pounding sound of rain and thunder.

"What's about him?" Judd reaches over, snatches Cassie's opened beer, and sips. "That song she's writing, the one she stopped. I bet it is; she's never really experienced love." Cassie whispers, and Judd rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I wonder whose fault it is." Cassie flinches, knowing her brother Rhett really fucked you up, something she regrets every day.

"He's different." Judd looks over and watches as Lando kisses your forehead softly and closes his eyes, leaning more into you. "I sure hope so; I'd hate to bury him in the backyard."

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

"It's loud in here!" Lando yells, which has you and your friends laugh. "Seriously? You had us buy a race and listen to real F1 cars, and you say this is loud?" You yell in his ear, Lando's arm tightening into your side. "Yeah, well, we get earbuds!" Lando screams, fixing his cowboy hat. A black one with an orange string tied around it. Other than that, it looked average. Judd had picked out Lando's outfit, reminding you why you loved your best friend so much.

Lando was wearing a white button-down with a couple of buttons undone to show off his various necklaces and had black jeans paired with it; they hugged his thighs and ass so perfectly that even Cassie stared. He wore the cowboy boots you bought for him, and you giggled; he looked a little silly with the hat, but he loved the hat and refused to go without it.

"Now, can we dance?" He points to the line dance. It was to the song Country Girl by Luke Bryan, and you laugh, shaking your head no. "Hell no, I'll trip." Lando chuckles as Judd ushers you to your booth and makes you and Lando sit inside. "Okay, but just once, dance like that! Promise?" You just nod in agreement even though you were dreading the thought.

It was 2 hours of Lando begging and getting 2 dances in with Judd and Cassie that you stood, and his eyes lit up. "I'm getting us another round." Lando deflats but nods and kisses your cheek. Jolene by Dolly Parton comes on, and you run to the bar smiling and breathless. "Hey, can I get 2 beers and a double shot of JD?" The bartender turns and nods their head.

"Still drinking like a man huh?" That voice, that voice still had your body freeze up. Fuck, what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Texas for a competition. "What? Not going to turn around?" You shudder and turn, coming face to face with your ex, Rhett. "Rhett," Breathing out his name felt like fire on your tongue. "If it isn't my sweet baby, missed me?" He asks and leans against the bar. "Fuck off," You turn to leave, not even caring for the drinks anymore.

"Now, now, sweets. Come here. Still trying to act like that tough girl when we both know you're still that little girl inside." He hisses, tightening his grip on you. "Let me go. I'm here with someone." "Really? You aren't wearing his hat."

Judd looks over, wondering where you could take so long and tense. "Fuck, Cassie, goddammit. Your brother is here." Cassie's eyes pull away from the blonde girl beside her, and she groans. "Dammit," Cassie groans and pulls away from the girl and stands. "Whose that?" Lando asks, hearing not the best. "That would be my dickwaffle of a brother, Rhett. Y/n's ex." Lando feels anger course through his blood. "Yeah, well, you know that 2nd song we sang at the party?" Judd asks, taking off his hat and fixing his rings. "Yeah, the one about the cheating?" Lando asks, "That was about Rhett," Judd adds, and Lando moves quickly to your side.

You feel a presence beside you and suddenly feel the heavy weight of a hat on your head. "Now, she's wearing my hat. Now let go of my girl, right now." You turn, seeing Lando and sag into his side as Rhett drips his hand. "Really? This little boy? Oh, how your taste has fallen," Rhett gets in your face, but Lando effortlessly shoves Rhett back and pushes you behind his back.

"The only little boy I see here is you, you shriveled 2-inch dick. Get the fuck out of here," Lando seethes, and you have to smother your laughter as Judd steps up behind you and Lando easily towering over you both. Rhett blanches, knowing Judd would easily slaughter him. "Whatever, enjoy my leftovers." "I do, and I eat her out every night." Lando spits without thinking twice. You blush and move, hugging his back as you hide your face. Lando moves, covering your hands with his one large hand.

"Mr.Norris, I think you've earned yourself a dance." You whisper, causing Lando to spin around and smile. "Really? Well, let me do the honors, darlin'." You laugh at his fake accent. "So bad," You laugh as he tugs you into his arms, leading you to the dance floor. "Stay there!" You yell and run up to the DJ booth. Lance watches as you lean over, and he's never been happier about you wearing tight jeans and a loose top. You looked damn good.

Running back over, you keep Lando's hat on your head and see everyone clearing out, and the people who enjoy line dancing come back out. "Aight, this one is for our special guest, Miss. Y/n L/n herself," A roar surrounds you two as you turn and wave and turn to Lando. "Judd taught me this one when we were teens, so just don't judge. "This song is for you," You hear the familiar DumDeDeDum, DeDeDumDeDeDum, DeDaaDaaaaa DumDeDeDum, DeDeDumDeDeDum, DeDaaDaaDaaDaaDaaaa feels your ears and Lando whips his head to you.

"Are you serious? You know this song!" And Lando gets a cheeky smirk on his face. "Remind me to introduce you to Daniel one day." Rolling your eyes, the heavy guitar beat hits, and you tell Lando to follow your movement. Stepping forward and then back, Lando moves with you.

Well, I walk into the room

Passing out hundred dollar bills

And it kills and it thrills like the horns on my Silverado grill

And I buy the bar a double round of crown

And everybody's getting down

An' this town ain't never gonna be the same

With the lyrics, you laugh and step side and then jump and turn, shuffling your feet forward like a horse walking. Lando laughs, head back as he does it as well.

'Cause I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

'Cause the girls they are so pretty

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Getting to the chorus was always your favorite part. Hearing the line, you take off the hat, as does every other female, and some guys swing the hat around and stop. Lando laughs but you stop him, "Only those that ride do that part." Lando's eyes widened, and you smirked, glad you could catch him off guard. "I think I've got it now." He yells.

Well I don't give a dang about nothing

I'm singing and Bling-Blinging

While the girls are drinking

Long necks down!

And I wouldn't trade ol' Leroy

Or my Chevrolet for your Escalade

Or your freak parade

I'm the only John Wayne left in this town

And I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

'Cause the girls they are so pretty

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

You and Lando dance as his arms wrap around you, and you two do the moves in sync as he catches on quickly. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" You two scream, and you swing the hat and pull him close, Lando leaning in to kiss you, but you pull back, kick up your right heel, and go back to the moves.

I'm a thourough-bred that's what she said

In the back of my truck bed

As I was gettin' buzzed on suds

Out on some back country road

We where flying high Fine as wine

Having ourselves a big and rich time

And I was going, just about as far as she'd let me go

But her evaluation of my cowboy reputation

Had me begging for salvation all night long

So I took her out giggin frogs

Introduced her to my old bird dog

And sang her every Wilie Nelson song I could think of

And we made love

"Does that mean I'm your thoroughbred?" Lando jokes, but his voice reaches a deeper tune, and you turn, smirking. "Why? Wanna be?" You ask, making the moves backward as Lando pulls you in.

And we made love

And I saddled up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

'Cause the girls they are so pretty

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

What? What?

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Everybody says

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Lando leans in, and so do you; this time, there are no interruptions as Lando captures your lips, and you melt into him. You never understood some country songs about love, having thought you might experience it with a true southern boy like Rhett. But who would've thought you'd feel it was some Brit. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy," Lando whispers, pulling away, and you giggle. "Earn that belt buckle first, big boy, and then we'll see." Lando bursts out laughing, a high-pitched, gasping one that makes you laugh hard as the beat fades.

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

Lando stands in the bar, the same one just a week ago, and you two stand in your same spots, but this time you don't wear your daddy's hat; instead, you're wearing Lando's and possibly the white dress shirt from last night. "Is that your shirt?" Oscar asks, and Lando turns and shrugs but knowing damn well it was.

"It sucks we won't be able to see them again?" Lando tunes it out. You and he talked about it last night. And you both knew that this could work; besides, he was your country song, and you his Whiskey; you two weren't goin nowhere. "Yeah right; JD was so damn happy with their show they invited them to their private booth for Vegas," Jackie yells, and Lando smirks and moves through the darkness.

You yelp when cold hands touch your skin, and you turn, smirking when you see those sea-green eyes you love so much. "So Vegas, uh?" He asks, and you sigh rolling your eyes. "Yeah, Judd wants to go." "Really not to see me?" "Okay, maybe you too." You tease, and Lando nods and leans in, kissing you gently before pulling.

"So, how about it's only fair you spend a week in my world now?" You think it over, wrap your arms around his shoulders and nod. "Only fair," "Yeah, only fair." You muse and hear gagging beside you and turn, glaring at Cassie, who is wearing round pink-tinted glasses. "You two make me sick. Bad enough, we heard you all last night; now we gotta see this?" Cassie groans while Judd cackles.

"Leave the kids alone, grandma. They're in love." "What'd you just call me?" Judd yelps as Cassie smacks him hard with her drumstick. Turning back, you face Lando. "Tell me your coworkers aren't like this?" Lando laughs nervously and shrugs. "We're totally fucked," Lando and you giggle as you hear Jackie yell loudly, introducing you 3, bringing back a sense of deja vu.

But you knew the cute Brit behind the bar was coming home with you this time. "Go kill it, Whiskey." Running onto the stage, you smile into the bright spotlight. "Alright, we're starting off with something new. It's called Tennessee Whiskey,"

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