#best friends forever [witnessed Something]

[ipfy-dot-tif]

most normal batch of girls in their early 20s

osgood belongs to @spooksier​ :3

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat.��“Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

[indecisivemuch]

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 

You deserved better. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

——————————

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[unheavenlyvision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

next.

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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

This is going to be part of a Baby Fever Angst series with the other drivers. So, multiple drivers are going to have an smau like this.

Max’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

I do have Part 2s planned if people want them but also happy to leave it like this :)

[frost-queen]

Tempting fate (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

The night was out. Chilled but rather comforting on the skin. You were outside, waiting as your sister had already taken the carriage in a haste. Not a few moments ago she had a little encounter with Colin Bridgerton. One that you witnessed from afar. You could tell by your sister’s expression that she was displeased. Distressed to say the least. Once again had Colin Bridgerton said something to upset your sister. It was getting out of hand and you hated him for it. Hating how he toggled with your sister’s feelings.

They had been friends for a while now, but your sister desired more. He was the only good gentleman that gave her attention during the balls. Even if it was just a little. It wasn’t his first slip, but this time you clearly had enough of him. Now that your sister had run off with the carriage, you were left to return home on your own. Waiting for the carriage to return to the estate of this night’s ball would take awfully long.

Rubbing your arms gently, you hesitantly decided what to do. Go or stay? Slightly turning your head you noticed in the corner of your eye a figure approach. Once you fully got a glimpse of him, you rolled your eyes with annoyance. – “Y/n.” – Colin said approaching you. – “Good night Mr. Bridgerton.” – you answered coldly turning your posture away from him. – “Do you not need a chaperone?” – he asked making you stop in your way. With a deep sigh, trying to temper your annoyance down, you turned back to him.

“Certainly not from you.” – you answered with a forced smile. He stared confused at you. Trying to process the meaning of your words. He slightly came closer to you. – “Did…did I say something to offend you?” – he questioned. You scoffed making him furrow his brows dumbfound. Colin and you hadn’t been the closest, yet he considered himself acquainted with you through your sister. – “To my sister you did!” – you bit back finding his act of stupidity tiring.

“Pen?” – Colin. – “I…I don’t understand.” – he answered. – “Why do you minimize my sister?” – you asked him boldly. Colin was taken back by your reply, looking surprised at you. – “Minimize… no, Y/n… I…I wrote to your sister everyday this summer with little reply.” – he said with a charming smile. You smiled in return as Colin flourished from seeing you smile. Yet your smile had other intensions. – “Oh, yes I know all about the letters you wrote her. Letting her know about all your adventures. I am well aware of that Colin!” – you pressured on.

Colin chuckled nervously. – “Are… are you going to make me say it out loud?” – he responded feeling a bit foolish. You quirked your eyebrow up unintrigued.  – “I missed her.” – he told you. You busted out in a laugh. – “You miss her?” – you positioned yourself stronger, fiercer to go up against your sister’s good friend. – “You miss her, but you would never court her is that correct?”

“Y/n I…” – Colin started finally losing a bit of his  boyish foolishness towards you. – “I overheard you!” – you called out. – “At my mama’s ball last season… telling everyone you would never ever court Penelope Featherington.” – You felt yourself get a bit emotional, defending your sister against her best friend. Against the one she loved. Some voices approached as it drew Colin’s attention briefly away from you. – “Bridgerton.” – one of them greeted as they passed. Colin bowed his head to them before leaning a bit closer to you. Lowering his voice he spoke – “Perhaps we should go where there’s somewhere private?” – he suggested.

“Because I embarrass you?” – you said loud enough for anyone walking around to hear. – “My sister can change her entire wardrobe and gain confidence but that would never take away that she is the laughingstock of the ton.” – you outed in anger. – “My sister doesn’t deserve a cruel man like yourself in her life.” – you picked up the hem of your dress. – “Good night Sir!” -  you saluted coldly at him before taking off in the night. Colin watched you leave with a certain guilt eating at him.

Two days later you were with your sisters and mama at a garden event. Your sisters sitting down in a chair underneath a tent, waving themselves some cool. Your mother was chatting with some of the other mother’s. You had no idea where Penelope was. You on the other hand were playing battledores and shuttlecock’s with some of the other season’s participants.

You stood on one side with a girl you were quite familiar with. On the other side were two gentleman. The shuttlecock went high up in the air as the boys knocked it to each other. You were waiting for the shuttlecock to come your way to hit it to her and then back to the boys without it touching the ground.

Somehow your attention got drawn away from the heavens. Seeing Colin Bridgerton clearly look for someone not far from you. – “Miss Y/n!” – one of the men called out as the shuttlecock went your way. Your attention was back as you calculated the moment your battledore hit the shuttlecock. The shuttlecock went up in the air as you thought back of annoying Colin.

The shuttlecock came down once more as you needed to pass it to your companion. Yet you let the shuttlecock come lower, batting it away with your battledore towards Colin. You watched as it hit him in the head. The shuttlecock fell in his hand as he looked down at it confusingly. Rubbing his sore head with the other one. The girl at your side pointed firmly at Colin to go and fetch it. You sighed loud going over to him. The moment Colin noticed you approach, he dropped to a bow. – “My shuttlecock.” – you said offering your hand for him to lay it in.

 “You hit me.” – Colin responded. – “Must have slipped.” – you responded sarcastic. Colin was all but amused. – “Now my shuttlecock.” – you insisted upon. Colin was about to give it to you till he changed his mind last moment. He had taken a deep breath, moving the shuttlecock behind his back. – “I’ll give it back if you allow me to apologise first.” – he started throwing a charming smile at you. – “You should apologise to my sister.” – you made clear not wanting an apology from him.

Colin tensed his jaw, as he had hoped for another outcome. – “I…Y/n.” – he sighed out. – “I don’t require your useless apology. My sister needs to be apologized to.” – you told him clearly. Colin sighed loud getting worked up by your attitude towards him. – “Fine! If you don’t accept my apology, you might not even deserve it.” – he snapped back. – “I don’t even want it!” – you fired back. – “Fine!” – he finished. – “Fine!” – you repeated loud.

“Good luck getting this back than!” – he showed you the shuttlecock again. You slapped your hand at it as Colin had pulled it away in time. – “Give it back!” – you called out to him, getting some attention from bystanders. – “You don’t deserve this.” – he mocked, taunting you by showing you the shuttlecock just out of reach. You groaned annoyed as he moved it behind his back. You knocked into him full force to reach for it behind his back. A bit too forceful perhaps?

Colin stumbled backwards as you fell with him. With a loud oof fell you on him. Now having the full attention of those around you. You were very much aware of the staring eyes. You pushed yourself hard off him. He felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. – “Eat it!” – you cursed at him storming off. Colin sat up, swallowing nervously at the sudden attention. Getting up, he saw Penelope look his way. He shamefully turned his head away, getting up and taking his leave.

**

Lights were flickering in the warmth of the room. Music filled the room. Dancers were taking in the centre of the room. You stood by the side with your two other sisters and mama. Your gaze went across the room. When your eyes fell upon Colin, you glared at him. He glared back at you, turning his head proudly away. You stubbornly looked away as well. Looking down, you fidgeted on your dress. Somehow it pained you to see him act so coldly towards you.

You didn’t intend on doing so but the more time you spend with Colin, arguing and bickering, the more you felt drawn to him. You shouldn’t be falling for him, but yet you were. Some novels say that you grow more attracted to those things you hate the most with frequency. This might be the case for Mr. Bridgerton and you. Mama nudged you hard making you lift your chin back up. She gestured to you, to smile so you could attract more eligible men.

Not being in the mood for her interfering, you took off. Blending through the crowd to escape her. Pushing yourself through the crowd. Coming to a brief stop, you came face to face with your sister Penelope. Your eyes widened briefly before you rushed off to the hallway to avoid her. Penelope blended with the crowd, lowering her head when she saw Colin near. He was clearly in pursuit of someone.

Almost panting he disappeared through the same door you had left moments ago. It made Penelope think doubtfully. You exhaled loud setting your hands on the desk from the room you had run off to. Clutching your heart, you felt it beat faster. Faster then it normally did. Was this Colin’s doing? Shaking your head you didn’t want to think about him. It was wrong to think of his that way. Your sister was madly in love with him. You couldn’t… not for the sake of her. – “Y/n.” – you jumped back startled at the hearing of your voice.

Colin had entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. You rounded the desk, creating more distance between you and him. – “Shouldn’t you dance with my sister.” – you sarcastically suggested to him. He exhaled soft, practically done with your flight modus. Done with how you kept pushing yourself away and shoving your sister to the front. – “Y/n.” – Colin started as you didn’t want to hear it. – “You keep doing it Colin. You keep minimizing my sister.” – you told him.

“Ignoring every hint she throws at you, and you too blind to see it. I hate how you ridicule my sister’s feelings towards you. She is not some object.” – you ranted out as Colin came nearer, going round the desk to reach you. – “You tell her you miss her, but you won’t court her. Why?” – you asked desperate. – “I can’t court her.” – he answered standing face to face with you.

“Why?” – you repeated wanting to have a clear answer. Colin felt himself be swept up by the heated moment. – “I just can’t.” – he responded loudly feeling his hands tremble to get a hold on you. – “Answer me. Clearly!” – you called out getting up in his face. – “Because I want you!” – Colin shouted back, practically panting from the tension released inside of him. Your eyes widened.

Colin grabbed for your face. The hell with being a gentleman. The hell with your reputation and his. In this moment he just wanted you. He forced himself forwards, pressing his lips on yours. Your gaze widened more at his touch. His lips gently brushing against yours as you fell under his spell. Giving in to the sensation as it was beyond this world.

Butterflies flattering around inside till they suddenly dropped with realisation. Guilt. You pushed Colin off, breaking off the kiss. Colin blinked confused at you breaking it off. Stunned you held your hand before your mouth. As if something was stolen from your lips. A kiss perhaps? – “My sister…” – you whispered out knowing just how much she loved him. – “Y/n…” – Colin said wanting to approach you.

“No!” – you called out clear, taking a step back. – “I…I can’t do this…” – you told him running around the desk. Throwing the door open and taking your leave. Colin went around the desk as well, standing in the door opening. One last attempt to call out to you, but you were out of reach.

Exhaling deep, he lowered his head, heart broken at the loss of touch. He never courted Penelope but he found himself falling for you. Her sister. The sister that yelled at him. That wasn’t afraid to speak back even when some might find it out of turn. He liked how sincere you were, but also caring and free. A bright personality when one got to know you, truly know you.

Penelope bit the sour apple down. A single tear fell down her cheek, yet her face stood bitter. Bitter with hatred for what she had just seen. Her own sister fleeing a room with Colin Bridgerton showing himself in the door opening. It was clear to anyone that you had been in there privately with him.

Penelope made her way to the carriage. Rushing to get home. In the carriage she pulled out a piece of parchment from her reticule. The carriage hobbled yet she maintained balance. Taking out a pencil, she set it down on the parchment.

Dearest gentile reader…

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  [read part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

[writtenwhalien]

jump then fall (into you) | part 3

banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖

pairing ↠ jungkook x reader

genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut

word count ↠ 52k (pt 3. 14k)

18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.

summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

note. asdkjlfdsgh it's the final part, i hope you're enjoying! 🥰 don't forget to interact please xo

part 3 (final)

“Black or red?” Sophia held the two dresses against herself in turn, eyes scrunched as she considered each carefully. 

“I vote red.”

“No, black.”

Elisa and Shay, two of Sophia’s closest friends looked at each other in disapproval after both giving their choice. 

“Wait, what are you wearing again, Y/N?” No answer prompts her to turn around. “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You look up, slightly confused. “Sorry, dress, yes, I like both but I think the black will go with the Harry Winston your dad just got you.” The answer rolls off your tongue and you’re grateful that you already had this conversation with Thalia a few weeks back before you’d left for the cruise. 

She narrows her eyes at you and you can’t blame her. You’ve been zoning out on her all day.

“Sorry,” you wince, giving her a smile. 

“Something on your mind?” Sophia asks, having witnessed this earlier too. 

“Not really,” you answer. “Just tired.” It’s not true but you don’t particularly fancy sharing your current dilemmas with the girls despite how great they are at advice. Besides, it’s less than two days till the wedding and you’re not trying to make your problems everyone else’s problems. 

Sophia just gives you that look before carrying on as though nothing happened. “What dress are you wearing again? Wasn’t it the same red as this?”

You nod. Your dress for Thalia’s dinner tonight is a simple wine red dress with a tie up back. 

“Alright, I’m going for the black one then.” Sophia throws the red one on the bed and hangs the black one up on her mirror. 

“Now heels,” she says excitedly. The girls follow her into her closet and you get up too but not to follow. 

“I’m gonna go get some water,” you tell them, sticking your head into the door of the closet. 

“Can you get me some too?” Sophia asks, eyes scaling the shelves for the perfect heels. 

“Sure.” 

You walk away from the girls and towards the closest back staircase which would take you directly to the kitchen. It’s on the opposite side of the house, past many of the bedrooms on the third floor, one of which belongs to Alias. A part of you hopes to hear voices in the room, one voice in particular, but you’re only met with silence as you pass. 

Deflating a little, you go downstairs to the kitchen. As you approach, you hear voices, Thalia and Alex. They’re standing by the fridge, talking softly to each other as Thalia takes a few drinks from the shelves and Alex places them on a tray behind them on the island. 

Alex looks up and smiles when he sees you. “Hey, Y/N.” 

Thalia turns around, placing the last of the bottles on the tray. “Finally managed to escape Sophia?” 

You laugh, approaching the fridge. “Not yet. I’m just here for some water.” 

“She’s still choosing her outfits?” Alex asks, brows raised.

“Yep.”

“But she took forever when she was buying them, why is she still choosing?”

Thalia laughs. “She’s your sister, surely you know better than that by now. She’s got at least three new buys for one event, then she’s got to choose between them and don’t forget about the jewellery, shoes and hair choices that go with them.”

Alex puts his arm around Thalia’s waist. “I think you’re just as bad though.”

“Well why not?” Thalia answers smugly. “It’s just self love.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

You don’t cringe as they smile at each other all smitten, but surprisingly feel a small pang of pain in your chest. Looking away, you take three bottles of water from the fridge. 

“Are you going back up there?” Alex asks. 

You nod. “She’s almost done.”

Just as Alex nods, another voice enters the conversation.

“Need any help guys?” Jungkook pauses in the doorway the moment he sees you, meanwhile Alex and Thalia exchange sly glances. 

“Actually, yes.” Thalia puts down the drinks she’s holding. “Bring the drinks please,” she says, pulling Alex by the hand. “As bride and groom we don’t want to risk any injuries from all the heavy lifting,” she adds, with an air of humour and absurdity which her fiance shares and they don’t wait another second before disappearing from the kitchen. Just like that, you’re left alone with Jungkook.

He looks at you from across the island. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, feeling your lips purse awkwardly.

For a moment, neither of you move and the air is ripe with hesitation. A hundred thoughts cross your mind but not one leaves your mouth. If Jungkook’s mirrored expression is anything to go off of, he’s feeling the same.

Eventually, it’s Sophia’s voice coming from somewhere in the house that snaps you out of it. “Y/N, we’re doing hair now!” she calls, followed by a faint giggle from the girls.

“I’ll just…” you dumbly don’t finish your sentence, instead opting to just point towards the staircase as you turn around and head back towards them.

“Your water.”

Turning around, you see Jungkook is pointing at the three bottles Thalia was taking out for you, left on the corner of the island.

“Oh, right.” You feel your cheeks warming up as you take the bottles, that was silly of you.

Jungkook steps around the island. “Need a hand? I can take them for you.”

“No, I’m good,” you answer, noticing the way he stops immediately in his tracks. 

When you look at him, his lips are pursed and he just nods, looking down. You realise he was probably just looking for an excuse to talk and you just shot it down. 

Stupidly, you hesitate, and just when Jungkook looks up at you, one of the chefs walks in, greeting you both as she places down a big basket of freshly picked tomatoes right on the island.

Without another word, Jungkook starts placing the drinks on the tray and you turn and retreat back upstairs.

That was so stupid, you think, trudging your way up. Since when has it ever been this awkward between you both? Sure, the last time you spoke wasn’t a good conversation but this is the first time you guys haven’t been able to get past it and it’s becoming almost agonising.

“Worst headache ever.” Alias just manages to raise his head from the table to have a sip of his coffee. 

“Take some anadin,” you say, just about managing to sip on your own iced coffee. 

“Here.” Elisa puts a blister pack in front of him and Alias groans as he swallows two together. 

The whole room around you is a similar scene. Kelce and a few of the other guys are knocked out on the lounge, while you, Alias, Thalia and a few of the other guys are holding strong and knocking back some coffee to help with the hangover. Last night got a little crazy for both parties involved. As expected, Sophia called in the strippers and when the last stripper finally lost his clothes, it was straight tequila shots for the rest of the evening and even Thalia got wasted. 

“This is exactly why I don’t drink,” she moans, resting her head on your shoulder.

You laugh, remembering just how many shots she took last night. It’s true that she barely drinks as much as she did, but when Thalia gets drunk, she gets drunk. 

“A hen night only happens once.” You remind her of her words and she groans in regret. 

“Maybe we should all go dry for a month,” Alias says. 

“Oh come on,” Dillon says, taking the Anadin and nudging Alias. “Give it a few hours and you’ll be ready for another round tonight.” 

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Whatever.”

Thalia laughs from beside you. It’s true, he’ll definitely be knocking back the rounds again tonight. After years of friendship, you know that all it’ll take is a coffee, a balanced meal, a cold shower and two to three hours for the anadin to kick in and Alias will be right as rain for tonight. The same goes for yourself and ideally you’d like to be your best tonight. 

This evening is the rehearsal dinner before the big day tomorrow. The house is full of excitement and jittering nerves from some but for the most part it’s just the excitement. 

“My sunshines,” comes Alex’s voice from around the corner before he appears. Honestly, all the excitement could be coming solely from him, you haven’t seen him so happy and carefree like you’re experiencing now. 

A wide smile plastered across his face, his eyes meet his finances as soon as he comes into view. They share a lingering glance, one full of adoration and content. Since arriving at the house, it was the job of the bride and groom parties to try to keep the bride and groom apart as is the Cirillo family tradition, but it hasn’t been going so great. For starters, the bride and groom parties should’ve been separate since arriving at the house and although none of you have been hanging out together much, you probably shouldn’t all be mingling together right now. No one’s really keeping check though, and Alex and Thalia seem to be doing well to keep to themselves. 

“You’re all finally awake,” Alex continues just as Jungkook joins him from around the corner. 

He catches your gaze just as Alias replies. 

“You actually drank the most last night, why are you so cheerful?” Alias asks in disbelief. 

“Maybe because he’s getting married tomorrow,” Elisa laughs. 

“Oh, yeah.”

“And I know how to hold my liquor, big brother.”

“And who taught you, little brother?” Alias sasses back. 

You’re not paying much attention, still looking at Jungkook. 

He smiles at you, a timid smile and he looks away before you can even smile back. 

Forcing yourself to look away, you rejoin the conversation that follows but Jungkook takes a seat on the futon on the far end of the room where your back is turned to him.

The next half hour passes in conversation about the plans for tonight; what everyone’s wearing and the weather for tomorrow. With it being summer, the sun is really sun-ing and it’s been perfect. A bit unbearable at times but it’s nothing a portable fan and some shade couldn’t help. 

Soon, the clock turns closer to 2pm and you know you ought to start getting ready, as does everyone else since dinner is at 7 sharp tonight. The room starts to empty and you decide to head up too. This way, you can squeeze in a nice nap and have enough time to get ready too. 

As you get up from the table, you notice that Jungkook is no longer in the room but you don’t think about it. Maybe after the wedding, you’ll get a chance to speak to him about everything that’s happened between you guys but for now at least, you decide to focus your efforts on Alex and Thalia. 

Sophia is still conked out when you get upstairs to her room but you wake her up knowing she’ll want time to freshen up before she needs to start getting ready. Groggily, she sits up in bed and frowns when she sees you back in your pyjamas. 

“I’m taking a nap,” you say, answering her question prematurely. “Wake me up in an hour please.”

“Sure,” she croaks, reaching for her stanley. 

As she sips on the water slowly, still sitting up in a sleepy haze, you get comfortable beside her and ask Alexa to play some white noise to help drown out everything else. As always, it works like a charm and you’re fast asleep after only a few moments. 

“Wine.” Mrs Cirillo glances around, eyes narrowing as she looks at the tables. “We need wine.”

“Are you sure, mom?” Sophia asks, looking around. “There’s plenty to serve already.”

“Sweetheart, have you forgotten what guests we’re serving? There’s lots of family coming too.”

“Oh, right,” Sophia nods. “It’s been a slow day, mom.”

Mr Cirillo isn’t paying attention though, still looking around and she counts something under her breath before releasing a sigh with a frown. “I definitely ordered wine too, where is it?” She pulls out her phone. “Have either of you seen Charlie?”

“Charlie?” you ask. 

“He’s the guy in charge of the catering,” Sophia answers for you before answering her mom. “Last I saw he was in the kitchen checking on the canapés, and mom I saw some crates when I was coming down earlier, maybe they’re still there?”

“Would you mind checking, darling? And please ask someone to bring them over if they are?” Mrs Cirillo says, still scrolling through her phone and looking concerned. 

You’re sure there’s still 101 other things she’s worried about right now since guests are supposed to be arriving any moment and the wine is just one of those problems. It probably would have been easier if this was a more traditional rehearsal dinner but considering the majority of the guests are from out-of-town, the families thought it discourteous not to invite them tonight.

“We can bring them,” you offer, getting up from your seat. 

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Yes girls, if you could please it would be amazing.” She looks around once more but you can only see the house guests scattered around and no catering or even decor staff in sight. “Actually, find Alias” she says, looking back with a nod. “He can do it, I’m sure he’s in the kitchen stuffing his face anyway.”

“Sure, mom,” Sophia says, getting up with you. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you girls,” she answers, attention returning to her phone as you both walk back towards the path that goes around the house to the front. 

“I’m calling Alias,” Sophia says, pulling her phone out of her purse. “That doofus is around her somewhere.”

“I think the kitchen probably is our best shot but let’s find the wine first.”

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him though, he should be here already.”

“I’m sure he is,” you laugh, “he was down here two hours ago helping with everything.”

“Still, he knows how stressed mom gets.”

Just as you come around the corner towards the driveway, you spot Alias, sleeves rolled up and helping some of the caterers already. 

“Yep, he does,” you answer as you and Sophia come to a pause. 

Sophia just shrugs. “It’s the least that’s expected of him.”

“Fair enough,” you shrug too. 

You know if Alias was getting married, Alex certainly would’ve been front and centre making sure everything was prepared and perfect for his brother's big day and Alias doing the same is, as Sophia put it, the least that’s expected of him.

Taking a crate of wine from one of the caterers unloading the van, Alias turns and smiles when he sees you both approaching. “Hey, Y/N, and hello princess,” he greets his sister as you both approach. “You finally decided to help.”

“It takes time to look this good,” Sophia says with a tut. 

“This is supposed to be good?” Alias teases his little sister. 

She simply rolls her eyes, taking a crate herself and you take one too being extra careful with the fairly heavy load. “Just take that inside. The guests are supposed to be here and mom is gonna freak if the wine isn’t sorted.”

“Yeah, caterers were running late but I’ve got some of the guys helping out here and there.”

Right on cue, Jungkook comes strolling out of the house and just like Alias, his sleeves are rolled up too. Why is he so damn good looking? You must really miss him because seeing him now has you feeling a desperate longing to at least just speak to him. 

He gives a small smile as he comes out but he could just as easily be looking at Sophia or Alias who are both standing right in front of you. 

“Good,” Sophia nods before glancing back at you. She purses her lips and looks back at Alias. “Come on then,” she says, brows raised. I’ll go check on the kitchen if they were all late.”

Without a word, Alias follows and suddenly it’s just you and Jungkook standing still in between the rush of a few panicked catering staff. 

Now you’re certain he’s looking right at you and just like that, you can hear your heart beating in your chest. It’s that cursed Jungkook Effect again but this time it feels worse.

“Hey,” he steps forward, smiling hesitantly.

“Hi,” you answer. Consciously, you try to smile but your nerves seem to be running high. Gosh, you hate this. Jungkook is your best friend, it shouldn’t feel like this. 

Jungkook steps forward again, walking until all that separates you is the crate you’re holding. You don’t miss the way his gaze skims your figure, looking back at your face by the time he’s in front of you. “Let me take that?” He asks it as a question but takes the heavy wooden box from you anyway, it’s one effortless motion and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. 

He’s looking at you carefully, searching for any clues he can use to dissect how you’re feeling. It makes you self-conscious even though you know Jungkook never has a bad word to say about you, but still, you have so much more to lose now and you’re already at a loss. 

“Thanks,” you smile, unable to look away from him despite how you’re feeling. You really have missed him and the past few days have proven to you just how much. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything – a thousand unspoken words pass your mind and you feel your pulse rising, ushering you to say something but what? You wouldn’t know where to start, even though you know you want to say something. Anything.

“You look beautiful.” Jungkook’s gaze remains rooted on you as he says it, soft and sure.

Releasing a small breath – perhaps one of relief – you smile. “Thank you.” And just like that, your pulse slows down, your nerves subside and you’re calm. 

Focused entirely on you, Jungkook notices the change and reciprocates. His lips curl into a smile, not so big but enough for it to reach his eyes but it’s familiar to you and it’s unexpectedly comforting.“You’re welcome,” he says.

The train of thought in your mind slows down and something about the way Jungkook is looking at you now tells you everything is going to be okay. This must be why, you think, feeling all your worries melt away – it’s no surprise that you’re in love with him, with the way he’s looking at you now, you wonder if he’s always looked at you with this much care and adoration.

For the first time, you see Alex’s point and now you think, was he right?

As though he can read your thoughts, Jungkook’s expression changes and he says your name, pausing with bated breath.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk?”

Suddenly, you’re flustered. “Well, yes, I–now?”

“Um…” Jungkook turns around, looking at the hurried staff and back at the house. “Later,” he says, looking back at you. “After dinner?”

You nod. “Sure.”

“Okay.” He nods too, smiling. “I should probably take this inside now,” he says, still not looking away from you. “But I’ll see you later.”

Again, you nod, and this time you can’t help but laugh, feeling so relieved that things feel more normal than before. His smile grows when he hears you laugh, and he nods once more before turning away and walking back into the house.

“Thank you all for coming tonight and please enjoy the rest of the evening!”

A loud echo of cheers and conversation follows after Mr Cirillo closes off the final speech, with you and your friends included, all raising your glasses before taking a sip of your champagne.

“I can’t believe my baby brother’s getting married,” Alias says, having already emptied his glass. A flute of champagne is a mere two sips to him at most. 

“Feeling sentimental big brother?” Sophia asks, smiling.

“You know what? I think I am,” he says, turning to her with a smile. “You better not be next, I’m not ready for you, okay?”

She laughs. “I’m not even dating anyone.”

“Good, keep it that way.” He looks ahead again but puts his arm around his little sister and kisses her forehead. 

Neither of them say a word but Sophia lets him pull her in, a grimacing smile on her face. As siblings, the Cirillo’s are rarely physically affectionate with each other, especially these two, so it warms your heart to see it. 

“Seems you're not the only one feeling sentimental.” Sophia points at their mom who is hugging Thalia and wiping away a few tears as Alex laughs, no doubt teasing his mom. 

“Alright, they're not married yet so no tears tonight guys…” Alias looks at you guys and you all agree. 

You look around the table and at Jungkook who sits a few seats away from you on the round table, noticing how he seems so much brighter than before. He looks your way too and you exchange smiles, still timid but no longer anxious.

Just then, ABBA plays loud on the speakers and Alias is ushering everyone up and to the dance floor. 

“Okay, hang on,” you laugh as he drags you out. “I need to pee!”

You feel a little bit tipsy having had a few to drink now but Alias holds you and pulls you onto the dance floor. Sophia and Jungkook are right there behind you, as well as Kelce, Shay, Elisa and some of the others. Sophia takes your hand as the pre chorus starts and you all belt out the lines in unison.

There’s not a soul out there, no one to hear my prayers! Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?!

You get carried away with the chorus, dancing and spinning along as you always do, and just when the chorus plays, Alias takes a hold of you as you dance, swaying you together left and right while you laugh gleefully. Laughing with you, he then not so subtly twirls you in the direction of Jungkook and with a little push, you end up bumping into his chest.

He looks down at you, smiling wide. Still mid-sentence of the song, you laugh and he joins you as you finish the chorus. As the music slows into the next verse, Your friends are still singing and dancing but now, you can only focus on the feeling of Jungkook holding you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your arm. 

You know it must be the lights around you but the way his eyes twinkle have you feeling weak in the knees. With a smile still gracing his lips, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears and that’s all it takes for you to feel shy. It would feel silly if the context were different but then his gaze drops to your lips for a second and you suddenly feel butterflies in your tummy as he locks eyes with you again. 

The moment is brief and from next to you, your friends start to shout out the lines again and Jungkook and you join in. You feel his hand let go of your arm and as you step to the side, one stays on your lower back but only for a moment.

Sophia catches your eye immediately and grins knowingly before she nods in the direction of the house. You know what she means and as the song comes to an end and the next one starts, you excuse yourself. 

“Hey!” Alias calls over the loud music. ”This is your favourite, where are you going?!” 

“It’s not mine, it’s my dads,” you laugh.

“Ah, yeah.” Alias, nods, undoubtedly remembering your dad’s 45th birthday party. “Let me find him,” he grins, walking off in the opposite direction.

Jungkook is looking your way as he dances with Dillon and Shay, and you smile before following Sophia as she tugs your hand again.

Many people have had more than a few glasses of wine so you have to excuse yourself as lots of guests bump into you, no doubt enjoying the evening as much as you are.

“What was that?!” Sophia asks excitedly as you both walk up towards the house.

“I don't even know,” you say. Still giddy from all the excitement. 

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“Not yet. He said he would after the party, so I guess I'll just wait for him to come to me.”

“Well, he totally looked like he was gonna kiss you.”

“Sophia!”

“What?” She laughs. “We all know he wants to.”

“Actually we don’t,” you say, somewhat soberly. 

It’s true, he said he wants to talk to you but he didn’t say what about. It feels easy to be hopeful that he's going to say what you want him to say and Sophia isn’t wrong – he did look like he wanted to kiss you back there, but still, there’s something stopping you from feeling hopeful.

“Oh, come on, this is the moment we've all been waiting for,” she says excitedly, squeezing your arm.

“Maybe,” you laugh, trying your best to push it to the back of your mind. “But let’s just focus on tonight and make sure you drink some water please.”

‘Oh yeah,” she nods, “can’t be looking glum for tomorrow!” 

“No, you can’t.”

She sighs, stopping outside the main bathroom on the ground floor, one of many in the grand estate. “Okay, go, I’m gonna go upstairs.”

“Okay.”

After a moment, you’re drying your hands and stepping out of the bathroom. Sophia’s still not here so you walk towards the staircase just around the corner. Just as you do, she comes down, adjusting her dress as she walks. 

“You look lovely,” you reassure her.

“Thanks, boo,” she says, jumping down the last two steps now that she's exchanged her heels for flats.

“Ooh, wait.” You hold her still as you fix her hair parting for her, carefully moving it back to where she initially styled it… 

“She’s not here tonight but she’ll be here tomorrow, of course.” Two quiet voices grow louder as they probably walk in the direction of the loo.

“I wonder if they’ll announce themselves as a couple. Jungkook has always seemed to be the more private type.”

Hearing Jungkook’s name makes you pause and Sophia frowns at you but her question is answered as the conversation outside is continued, and she too, goes still as she listens.

“Well, yes, Jungkook is private, but Valentina? She would announce it to everyone if she could.”

What?

“Ah, yes, it’ll probably be all over their social media pages, whatever it is they’re using today.”

“Instagram I believe. In fact, she’s probably already published something. With the way they were kissing for all the world to see as she took him up to her room.”

Your heart drops.

“Oh, I heard, Josepehine said she walked past them as they went into her room and she had no shame, even laughing in front of her as pulled his tie off.”

Now you start to feel sick and the anxiety comes rushing in.

“Kids these days, so different from us.”

“I remember I had to hide it from my parents for months!”

“And they still caught you, ha!”

Together, whoever they are laugh and their voices grow more distant as they pass by.

Sophia’s expression has dropped and she whispers your name.

You stare at her blankly, still processing what you’ve just heard. 

“Hey,” Sophia says hushedly, taking your arms, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.” She looks around the corner before looking back at you. “It was just Mrs Morgan and her friend, they’re stupid and love to gossip about anything.”

You can tell she’s trying her best to make you feel better but it won’t work.

“You know what they’re like, they get a tiny hint at anything and they run with it, it’s not true–”

“It is.” Your voice sounds hopeless, even to you.

Sophia pauses, confusion written all over her face. “What?”

“I’m sure of it.” You look up at her, the memory coming back to you. 

You were at the party and Alias told you Jungkook was downstairs at the lounge where you'd seen Valentina kissing some guy in the elevator. When Alias told you Jungkook was last at the lounge around the same time, you thought of the possibility then but stopped yourself because how could it be? You could almost laugh at yourself now you’ve heard it from someone else – it must've been true because Jungkook didn't show up once that night, nor did Valentina after you saw her.

Relaying the memory of the night to Sophia in somewhat of a haze thanks to the drinks you’ve had, she simply stares at you for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“No, that doesn't mean anything, Y/N.” She says it so surely and you want to believe her.

“But it would make sense.”

“No, well yes, but even then, actually no,” she says, conflicted, before taking your hands again. “Look, it can't make sense because there is no way Jungkook slept with Val, he’s in love with you.”

You wish you could believe it, especially because you want to. She’s right that it makes no sense and that's considering Jungkook’s character alone – he wouldn’t do that, not to himself and not to you. But right now, tonight of all nights, you don’t want to think about it.

“Let’s get a drink,” you mumble, taking her hand and walking back towards the party.

She follows but her concern remains. “I’ll go talk to him, I know it’s not true–”

“No, not tonight,” you say, shaking your head. “Let’s just focus on the wedding, okay?”

She hesitates before giving in. “Okay, fine.” 

It’s a quiet walk back to the garden but Sophia takes you through the house towards the kitchen to get you a drink and then to the path that leads to the poolhouse, avoiding the party. You can still see everything as you walk and you catch a sight of Jungkoook and Alias dancing together. There’s a happy smile on Jungkook’s face that makes you feel a deep sense of longing and just like that, everything hurts again.

Tearing your eyes away from the scene, you keep walking and stop with Sophia by the sunbeds. You sit down, putting your purse next to you as you take a big sip of your drink and she sits in front of you, watching you. “I don’t want to believe it,” you say quietly, after a moment.

“Then don’t. I know I don’t.”

You look at her and see she means it. Tears well unbidden in your eyes and you have to take a deep breath and look up at the night sky to compose yourself. You absolutely refuse to cry any more – it’s stupid and annoying that things keep going in circles like this.

“Oh, Y/N, babe. “ Sophia pulls out some tissue from her purse to give to you and you use them to carefully get rid of the tears.

With another deep breath, you look back at her. “I’m fine, this is all just stupid.”

Just as she’s about to comfort you again, two giggling voices come out of the pool house and you look up to see Alex and Thalia, holding arms and cooing each other as smitten as ever as they walk out.

“Heeey!” Alex calls happily as he sees you both but he halts almost immediately, noticing that you’re not okay. “Hey,” he says again, now with much worry and confusion in his voice as he comes and sits next to you.

Thalia shares the same expression as her fiance and she sits on your other side. “What happened?”

You feel stupid and annoyed at yourself now. The last thing you want is to worry the bride and groom the night before their big day but you also know that they won’t let up now that they’ve seen you. Wordlessly, you look at Sophia and she tells them in a short summary what you just heard.

“I don’t believe it,” Alex says as surely as his sister did.

Thalia takes your hand. “Neither do I. Do you?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

They all stay quiet for a moment and all you can hear is the music closeby, with your favourite song now playing. You wonder if Jungkook is looking for you, having always known you love to dance when it comes on.

Then Alex gets up. “I’m gonna ask him.”

You get up straight away. “No, please don’t.” You look back at Thalia too. “It’s the night before your wedding, I don’t want to think about it, we can deal with it after.” You look back at Alex. “Please.”

He sighs and Thalia squeezes your hand. “Of course,” she says, reassuring you as you sit back down. In doing so, you miss the look that Alex gives Sophia and the silent exchange that the two siblings share as she nods her head in the direction of the party.

“Alright, but I’ll get you another drink,” he says.

Mindlessly, you nod, too distracted to realise that your glass is still half full. As he walks off, Sophia moves next to you too.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Thalia asks, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Not really,” you say. “I don’t think I should even be upset over it, it’s completely one-sided and he never said anything for me to believe otherwise.”

Thalia is about to say something and you’re sure she’s about to use the same argument that Sophia gave earlier – he’s in love with you so he wouldn’t sleep with someone else – but she stops herself and you’re kinda grateful for it. You don’t need to hear that he loves you when he hasn’t even said it to himself. 

The look on his face when you danced together returns to your mind and you feel your chest tighten. You really thought that was the look of someone in love but you must’ve been wrong.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Sophia says, “but don’t be until you know what actually happened.”

Quietly, you sigh.

“She’s right,” Thalia agrees. “I know what you heard makes sense to you but it’s not something Jungkook would do.”

“I know,” you exhale, confused and now tired. “But how could I know for sure? He’s barely been talking to me since that night with Lawrence.”

“True,” Sophia nods. “That’s kind of silly of him.”

“Right?” you say, feeling a multitude of emotions now. “And even then, I did try to make things okay but he wasn’t listening to me.”

“You mean when he kept saying you should go out with Lawrence?”

“Yeah, like, why would he not just listen to me?!” you ask, now adding irritated and exasperated to your exhaustive list of emotions.

“True,” Sophia agrees. “Honestly, guys are just dumb.”

“They are,” Thalia agrees. “And truthfully,” she adds, glancing at you. “They’re even more dumb when they’re in love.”

You look at her as Sophia just hums in approval. “Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Thanks guys but I’m just not gonna think about it until after tomorrow.” You smile at them.

Although they can see right through you, they don’t press it further.

“You still wanna dance?” Sophia asks, a playful lilt to her voice as she nudges you.

You’re about to say no but the last thing you wanna do is be the reason your friends don’t have fun tonight. Sophia is the groom’s sister but she’s also your best friend and you know if you choose to retire she would join you so you don’t have to be alone, and Thalia would worry about you all night too.

“Sure,” you nod with a bigger smile. “But another drink first,” you say, downing what’s left in your glass now that the blissful effects of your previous drinks seem to have worn off.

Sophia laughs, getting up. “Of course.” 

Together, you walk back up the path, Sophia changing the subject to what Thalia was doing with Alex in the pool house.

“We didn’t do anything,” she laughs. “We just wanted some alone time.”

“You’re about to marry the guy, that’s the rest of your life with him.”

Thalia smiles. “Still couldn’t be enough.”

Sophia laughs. “Okay, I don’t know whether to be cringed out because that was actually cute.”

“It is cute. I’ve put it in my vows too actually,” Thalia says, proud.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” you tell her. “I’ll probably cry too.”

“Not more than my brother,” Sophia says. “Alex almost cried seeing you today, Thalia.”

“He told me, but honestly I think I’ll be crying myself, I just hope I don’t ruin my makeup.”

“Who did you book for it?” you ask.

The conversation shifts to makeup artists and hair stylists as you all take a few more drinks and together make your way over to the dessert table. You don’t have much of an appetite so you’re about to reapply some lip gloss only to realise you left your purse on the sunbed.

“You want some, Y/N?” Thalia holds out a plate for you but you decline.

“I’m alright, I’m just gonna go get my purse, guys, I left it on the sunbed.”

Sophia looks back at you as she takes a macaron. “Want me to come with?”

“No, all good, I’ll be back in a minute,” you say, already walking off in the opposite direction, past the crowd surrounding the desserts table and onto the path that leads away from the party.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

Alex’s voice is the first thing Jungkook hears before he even turns around.

“Hey,” he smiles, holding out the drink he’d just picked up for himself, only to frown when he sees his friend's expression.

“Please.”

Jungkook has only seen Alex annoyed a handful of times over their decade long friendship and right now, Alex looks pretty close to being annoyed. “What are you talking about?” he asks, concerned.

Alex glances around. There’s no one nearby who could overhear since they’re standing at a drinks table close to the house with only servers around, but Jungkook moves himself anyway.

Putting his glass down, he walks away from the table and Alex walks with him. After a few yards when there’s definitely no one in earshot, Alex stops.

“On the cruise,” he starts, looking straight at his friend. “Did you sleep with Valentina?”

Jungkook looks startled and equally offended. “What? Of course not!” he answers immediately, now with increasing concern.

Alex shares the same concern, evident in his tone. “Then why do people think you did?!”

“I don’t know! Where is this coming from?!”

“Some of the other guests were talking about it.”

“Which guests? How would they know anything and why would they lie?!”

“I don’t know,” Alex sighs, shaking his head. “They must be confused.”

“How did you hear it? Who said it? I can talk to them,” Jungkoook says, already looking around at the people scattered across the expanse of the garden.  

Alex pauses, biting his lip. “Sophia overheard them.”

Jungkook goes still. That means… “And… has Y/N…?”

Alex nods, lips pursed before Jungkook even finishes his sentence. “They were together.”

Jungkook stares at his friend completely confused as a hundred thoughts race through his mind – all of them stop at you. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Did she believe it?”

“I’m not sure, but she said she saw Valentina in the lounge, kissing someone going into the elevator. She couldn't see their face and then a few hours later, she was looking for you and some of the guys told her you were in the lounge… the same time–”

“The same time she saw Valentina,” Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling deflated. “I keep fucking up,” he says quietly after a moment. “I should’ve just told her the truth.”

“Which is?” Alex asks, despite already knowing the answer.

Jungkook finds a small smile on his lips even given the direness of the situation. “I love her.” He says it once and then smiles a bit wider.

Alex finds himself suddenly grinning. “I knew it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Was I that obvious?”

“To everyone but her, my friend.” Alex looks at Jungkook, brows raised.

Just like that, Jungkook knows what he needs to do. “Help me find her.”

You’re grateful you’re only wearing kitten heels as you walk along the path but it would’ve been a better idea to change into flats like Sophia did, especially since tomorrow you’ll be in high heels for the better portion of the day. 

“Y/N!” 

Someone calls your name and you pause, turning around.

It’s Jungkook. He’s jogging to catch up with you from the rest of the party. He must be coming to talk to you now that the night is coming to an end soon. Given how fast he is, it’s only a few short seconds before he’s in front of you, breathing a bit faster but not out of breath thanks to his perfect stamina.

You don’t know how you should be feeling right now. A part of you is angry at him for everything that has happened – you didn’t ask to start a fake relationship with him only for him to be the one to tell the truth about it because he thought you should be talking to Lawrence instead. And sure, you agreed to the fake relationship, but you’re not the reason for everything that came after and even though Jungkook had good intentions, he did disregard your feelings when you told him multiple times that you don’t like Lawrence romantically at all anymore. Sure, he couldn’t know it was because you have feelings for him instead, but that doesn't mean it was justified.

Another part of you just wants to have things go back to how they were because you really do miss your best friend and there’s nothing more you want than to have him back.

Then there’s the part of you that wonders if he really slept with Valentina. You could believe it, it all adds up and despite how unreliable the source is, you did see Valentina with someone, who now when you think about it, looked very much like Jungkook. The thought of it makes your stomach churn.

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna talk right now,” you mutter, turning away. 

“Wait, I really–”

“What?” you say, turning abruptly and stopping Jungkook from reaching for you. Immediately, you recoil, feeling bad. “Sorry.” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, now hesitating.

The look on his face makes you feel even worse than before and you swallow hard. You’re still mad at him so without another word, you turn and walk away, and this time, Jungkook doesn’t stop you. With every step you take a deep breath and calm yourself down, and then–

“Do you honestly believe it?”

You stop in your tracks. Slowly, you turn around. “What?”

He watches you carefully. “Do you really believe it? That I–,” he pauses, sighing. “That I slept with Valentina?” 

You notice that he sounds hurt that it’s something he even has to ask you, and still, hearing it from him hurts far more. “What else am I supposed to believe?” you ask, feeling your walls crumbling but your tone remains rather defensive. “You never said anything otherwise.”

After your many years of friendship, Jungkook knows you and he knows that right now, you’re mad at him but you just need an answer. He knows you have every right to be annoyed at him because he hasn’t been honest with you about anything and it’s because of him that all of this happened in the first place.

“I’m telling you now,” he says, taking a step forward. “It’s not true.” He sees your expression flicker but nothing more. “Nothing happened, I literally spoke with her for five minutes that night before she went back to her room with some other guy.”

Relief — that’s the first thing you feel as you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Okay?” You shrug, suddenly not sure what to say or do now he’s revealed the truth – you didn’t think this far ahead, having only thought of the worst. “Good for you,” you carry on, crossing your arms. “I don’t care anyway.”

“Yes you do,” Jungkook says, plain as day.

You flare, albeit lightly. 

Traces of a smile appear on his face and he carries on. “You do care,” he says, stepping forward slowly, this time without stopping. “And I’m sorry you had to hear it how you did, I know I’d feel shit if I heard the same thing about you.”

What? You’re trying to figure it out – does he know?

Jungkook sighs, smile growing and he stops close to you. You almost step back but stop yourself. He looks down at you with a familiar adoration in his expression.

Softly, he says your name. “You’ve been my best friend for years now, how long has it been since I’ve even looked at anyone else, yet alone slept with them?”

Saying nothing, you shake your head with a small shrug. A long time.

“Heck, I don’t even know myself,” Jungkook laughs softly. “All I know is that for me, my attention was always somewhere else.” 

Your head tilts, brows creasing just slightly. “What are you saying?” you ask, feeling your heart rate speed up as you wait for the answer you want more than anything to hear.

Jungkook’s eyes roam your face for a second, the smile still carved on his lips and he exhales. “I’m in love with you.” You feel his fingers curl around your palms as he takes your hands. “I’m in love with you and I have been for a long time, longer than I even know.”

You say nothing, lips parted as though you want to but nothing comes out as no complete thoughts form in your head. You just feel your heart hammering in your chest and a fuzzy wave of warmth rushes ripples through you.

“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he says, “I just had to tell you, and again, I'm sorry.”

You’re grateful that you’re standing close enough to the dance floor because if it weren't for the music playing you're sure he would be able to hear how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“Y/N!” Another voice calls your name from close by. It’s your mom. 

Jungkook turns around, letting go of your hands and she waves when she sees you, smiling as she approaches. “Darling, come take a photo with your father and I,” she grins, completely unaware she’s interrupting anything. “Jungkook, you look dashing,” she smiles at him as she takes your hand. “Nice to see you two have made up from whatever you were arguing about too,” she says, looking at you in question but she doesn't wait for a response from him. Her giddiness tells you she’s had more than her usual liquor intake.

Still reeling from what Jungkook just told you, you just nod and follow wordlessly as she pulls you towards your dad.

“Ah, there she is, my beautiful daughter,” he beams, “come here.”

You wish you could be more present as your parents share a sweet moment of appreciation for you, but you just smile and nod, hugging and kissing them in return as you all take a bunch of selfies together. Your smile is genuine enough though, Jungkook’s confession replaying over and over in your head as it becomes more real.

He loves me.

“Mom, dad,” you say, interrupting them both as they play around with some filters. 

“Yes, honey,” they respond in unison, still slightly distracted.

“Um… Jungkook told me he loves me.”

Both your parents' heads snap up together and you see the biggest smile on your moms face and a look of pure surprise on your dads.

“That kid finally did it,” you hear him say quietly to himself as his expression changes to a smile.

“He did?” your mom cries excitedly, squeezing your arm. “What did you say?”

“Well, you called me then to come here–”

“What?” your dad interrupts, disappointed. “Oh, honey, we’re sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can find him now, but dad…” you frown, thinking about what he just said to himself. “Did you know?”

Your dad shrugs with a smirk. “I had a feeling. A strong one.” He nods in your moms direction and she smiles proudly. “Your mom did too.”

You can't help but laugh. “Everyone apart from me it seems.”

“Well go find him now then,” your mom ushers.”Want me to help you?”

“It’s okay.” Getting up, you kiss both of their cheeks before turning away to go and find Jungkook.

Many of the guests have returned to their hotels or homes now and it’s much easier to find someone from across the garden. As you get closer to the house, you see Thalia and Sophia sitting on the veranda and they grin when they see you coming.

“So,” Thalia says as they sit on the seats in front of you. “Jungkook found you?”

You look at her and Sophia, unable to contain your happiness. “He said loves me,” you say out loud.

They look surprised for a split second before squealing in excitement.

“He finally told you?” 

“This is so exciting”

“Mhm,” you nod, laughing. You’re sure they must’ve already heard it from Jungkook first, given their expressions when you approached, but you appreciate their excitement nonetheless.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t.” I should have. “My mom came.” 

“Oh.” Their expressions have dropped ever so slightly and you feel it.

“I should have, right?”

“Well, maybe something but your mom came so it's fine,” Sophia says. “Find him now.”

You’re just about to spring into action when THalia stops you.

“The guys have all gone upstairs, Jungkook too,” she says, frowning apologetically. “We’re not supposed to see any of them until the ceremony tomorrow.”

“That's a family tradition,” Sophia says, waving her hand. “But we have an exception here.” 

You wish more than anything to see Jungkook now but you also don't want to disrespect their family – you know the kids won't mind but perhaps Mr and Mrs Cirillo, and Thalia’s parents.

“No, it's fine,” you say, smiling reassuringly. “It's just one day, and at least I know the truth now.”

“Fair enough,” they agree.

“Wow, we might have another wedding again next year now,” Sophia grins, winking at you.

You laugh, feeling a wave of joy as you lean back into the cushions and tell the girls exactly how your conversation with Jungkook went. 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Laughter and cheer erupts around you as Alex ever so sweetly kisses his bride, cheeks cupped in his hands. It’s a lingering kiss, a sweet one and it has your heart about to burst with joy. 

Across from you, Jungkook is laughing too, cheering for his best friend and he catches your eye for the nth time now and grins, making you smile even wider.

As the bride and groom depart for their photographs, Sophia drags you to the bar and you both get a drink while recapping the events of the morning and then she gets summoned away for the family photos which must mean that the groomsmen are done with their pictures too.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Of course you will,” she laughs, knowingly. “Does this mean you're finally gonna tell him you love him too?”

“I think so,” you grin. “As long as I don't chicken out.”

“You better not, otherwise I’ll tell him for you.”

“Don't worry. I don't think I will.”

“Well definitely not, I know you're so gonna get laid tonight.”

“Hey” you laugh. “I mean it would be nice but I don't care either way.”

“That's sweet, she says, “but please, don't be coy. After all this waiting it would be an injustice to not get laid.”

Suppressing a laugh, you nod. “Okay, noted.”

As you approach the quiet gardens, you spot some of the other groomsmen, Alias included, but not Jungkook. Alias sees you and answers your question before you can even ask it. “He went to look for you.”

Ah,” you nod. “Thanks.”

Saying a temporary goodbye, you walk in the opposite direction away from the gardens and back towards the venue. It's so beautiful here with tall oak trees spread across the lush and perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the elegant mansion. You’re momentarily distracted by the views that you don't notice jungkook as he walks out from around the mansion, smiling as he approaches. 

When you do spot him, he’s stopped in the path ahead of the fountain, holding his own bouquet of flowers in front of his chest. Smiling, you approach him slowly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, unable to fight back his smile.

You stop in front of him, as close as he was to you yesterday and gaze at him.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Again. You look beautiful everyday,” he adds with a shake of his head.

“Thank you. You look pretty handsome today too.”

“Thanks.” He looks down shyly, lowering the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Looking down at the bouquet, it’s full and in bloom of all your favourite flowers and you know that’s not a coincidence. “They’re lovely.” Taking them from him, you admire them a little longer before looking back up. 

“I'm glad you like them. He takes them back from you and places them on the bench beside you. 

You’re confused for a second but when he turns back, he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you into him, head burying into your neck. Muscle memory serves you well as you melt into his embrace, his scent engulfing you as your arms wrap around his neck as his chest presses flush against you.

He hums softly and you reckon you could stay here forever. Now you wonder, how did you never realise you were in love with him? Why did it take all of this unnecessary awkwardness and distance for you to know why you’ve always been so unavailable to others? Jungkook has always been the one person whose company you've craved when no matter what the occasion and the only one who really feels like home.

“I missed you,” you murmur, fingers gently moving across his neck as you move.

He keeps you close, arms tight around you. “I know, me too.” His eyes dip to your lips.

“Let's never do that again.”

“Agreed,” he nods, smiling with a wince. “Even though I know it was really my fault.”

“Oh, 100%” you say, feeling the space between you grow smaller and smaller. “All your fault.”

Now, you're looking at his lips.

Jungkook notices and he moves his hand up, slowly sweeping your neck until he’s cupping your cheek in his broad palm, the other arm still holding you tight. He smiles ever so slightly, and when you look up, you can see he’s waiting for something for you. So you nod, and that's all he needs.

He closes the space between you, lips meeting yours in a gentle brush once. Lips parted, you pull away briefly, moving your hand up to cradle his jaw before leaning in again for a more deliberate kiss. He hums, softly, and returns for more, one by one getting longer and more keen. The seconds melt away into minutes and you don't quite know how long you were standing here for, you only know that it feels perfect.

“I love you,” Jungkook murmurs, pecking your lips once more, then your nose and forehead.

You squeeze your arms around his waist. “Say it again.”

He chuckles, sweeping your hair back to kiss your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs low into your ear, hot breath warming your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much, princess.”

Biting your lip, you find yourself suddenly feeling something you haven't felt in a long time, except recently that night in bed with him on the cruise – a feverish desire for more.

Holding his face in front of you, you kiss his lips. “I love you too.” 

He blinks, endearingly. “I was waiting for that.”

You sigh with an air of amused disappointment. “Why couldn't we have just realised sooner? It would have made our lives so much easier.”

“I think I always knew actually.” He takes your hand and you sit down at the bench. “At least for a long time, I knew there was something.”

“Really?”

He hums, putting his arm around you and you lean into him. “I just didn't really let myself think about it much though, I didn’t wanna change things in case you didn't feel the same, which Ii don't think you did.” he thinks out loud, honestly.

For a moment, you're quiet. “I did.”

He looks at you.

“I don't know from when, but I think I just didn't realise.” Playing with the ring on his finger, you smile. “I probably should have just listened to Alex from the start.”

“Alex?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “He’d been telling me for months that you were into me, I just didn't see it.”

“Ah,'' Jungkook nods, pink tingeing his cheeks as he looks down.

“But now we’re good,” you say, cocking your head and smiling.

“Now we’re good,” he repeats, sealing his sentence with a kiss.

The evening reception goes on late into the night, later than you expect it to. It’s 8pm by the time all the guests turn up and within the next two hours, you've gone through all the emotions thanks to a round of heartfelt speeches from all the family and friends. Alias and Sophia’s speech made you tear up the most and you didn't even dare look in a mirror knowing your makeup is probably already so far beyond repair but luckily Sophia has magic hands and has a technique to apply concealer over powder, so not all was lost.

Except now you can feel yourself tearing up again as Alex and Thalia have their first dance, gazing lovingly at each other while Etta James’ At Last plays in the background with a live band. 

“They’re so perfect together,” you murmur, leaning your head back against Jungkook’s shoulder as you watch them from a raised platform close to the band.

He wraps his arms a little tighter around your waist. “Are we perfect together?”

“Of course,” you grin, looking up at him.

He wrinkles his nose, about to lean in to kiss you when someone coughs quietly next to you. Turning around, you see Valentina with a drink in her hand, coughing again as though she was just choking.

“Are you okay?” You take her drink from her.

“Fine,” she says, waving a hand as she clears her throat and straightens up. “I was actually coming over here to congratulate you since you’ve evidently made up now and have finally realised you’re both stupid in love with each other.” 

Jungkook and you smile sheepishly.

“Then I heard you talking and gosh…” Valentina winces, although her eyes twinkle with amusement as she looks back and forth between you. “You really are disgustingly cute together.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “Thanks, Val.”

You feel Jungkook caress the small of your back. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” She swiftly retrieves her drink from you. . “I’m glad you worked it out. See you later, guys.” She struts off, as perfect as she always is and disappears into the crowd.

The band closes off the song and everyone applauds, cheering for the happy couple.Then, the familiar melody of Elvis Presley Can't Help Falling In Love starts to play.

“Wanna dance?”

Scanning the crowd, you consider it. Mrs Cirillo is going around, inviting people to the dance floor, pulling some too. 

“I feel kinda shy.”

“What?” Jungkook steps next to you, taking your hand. “Why?”

“I don't know,” you laugh. “It’s fine, lets go.”

“You sure?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “We don't have to.”

“No, I want to,” you reassure him.

Just then, someone approaches from behind Jungkook. “Just who I wanted to see.” Mrs Cirillo is beaming as she approaches you. “I knew you two would fall in love eventually.” She takes your hands and pulls you to the centre of the dance floor. “I just don’t know why it took you so long,” she says before kissing your cheek, then Jungkook’s. “Bless you both,” she grins, before she’s off again.

“I guess we have no choice now.” You step closer to Jungkook and he pulls you in by the waist as your arms hang loosely over his neck. Neither of you say anything as the song plays, the words speaking volumes for you instead – as cheesy as it may seem.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

Fittingly, Jungkook breaks out into a cheesy smile and you both laugh. He pulls you in and together, you share your first dance as a couple. “So,” Jungkook clears his throat, “just to clarify, in case it wasn’t clear, you’re my girlfriend now.”

You feign surprise. “I am?”

Jungkook pouts his lips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “Don’t be mean.”

Giggling, you kiss his cheek.”Ask me nicely.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but plays along with a smirk. “Princess, would you please do me the honour of being my girlfriend? So I can love you and spoil you forever?”

With a smug grin, you nod. “Of course.”

“Just don’t be that annoying couple who do everything together,” Alias’s voice comes from behind you. Turning around, you see Alex, Thalia and Sophia having gathered too, all wearing knowing smiles. 

“Weren’t they always that annoying couple?” Alex says, brows arching as he smiles as smug as when he first saw you and Jungkook walking into the hall together holding hands. Being the groom on his wedding day, he never got to say anything to you then, but you knew he knew as he nudged Thalia and gestured to your direction. She looked like she was about to cry when she saw you together, though you suppose she was already feeling emotional from the ceremony prior. Still, it was heartwarming to see your friends so happy for you.

“That’s true,” Thalia agrees. 

“At least this time they won’t be sulking around and pining over each other,” Sophia banters.

Alias cringes in jest. “No, instead they’ll be wearing matching pyjamas, or worse yet, slippers.”

He’s definitely referring to the matching sweaters you got for Jungkook and yourself last year – and that was before you were a couple.

“Can’t forget the His and Hers mugs,” Jungkook amuses them as they all groan playfully.

Entertained, you join in. “Oh and the keychains,” you add. “Jewellery too.”

“I’ve already ordered matching charm bracelets,” Jungkook winks.

“Alright, we’ve heard enough,” Sophia laughs.

Alias clicks his tongue. “I definitely know what you two are getting for Christmas this year.”

“But–” Sophia wags her finger between you both, “–just give us a heads up if there’s any proposals on the horizon, I can’t do another wedding cruise single.”

Alias raises a finger. “I second that.”

Jungkook takes the lead as he responds. “Will do, but don’t take too long.” He has a mischievous glint in his eye and squeezes your hand. ‘I know I’m not.”

The fact that you’re not surprised by his answer is what actually surprises you. Smiling, dazed, you simply close your eyes as he pecks your cheek.

Meanwhile, Thalia squeals, excited, as Alex pats Jungkook’s arm, laughing as he encourages him. 

His brother on the other hand, groans, though there’s a heavy tone of cheerfulness in his voice as he pretends to complain, “they’ve already started.” 

Sophia blinks, “I wish I could be grossed out but damn it, I’m not.”

If it weren't for you being on cloud nine right now, you might actually feel sorry for making your friends put up with all of this cringeness, but as it so happens, you're revelling in it. “You might wanna get used to it, guys.” You pull Jungkook in closer, returning to a slow dance as the next song plays. After exchanging a few more playful words, Jungkook and you are left alone again, dancing to the music. 

“You meant that?” you ask.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. If you’re sure you want it too.”

Gaze locked on him, you nod. “How could I not?”

As Jungkook's smile lights up, he places a soft kiss on your lips, so soft that it barely feels like it happened. Hand on the back of his neck, you push down and keep him three for another. He obliges, letting you kiss him freely for all the world to see and quite frankly, you probably forget about your surroundings a bit too soon.

“Mm, wait.” You pull back, taking a deep breath. “Let’s pause,” you say, continuing to dance along with everyone else.

Jungkook’s eyes go round. “Why? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… um…” You press your fingers into your palm, exhaling as you look down. “I’ll want more if we keep going.” You feel slightly embarrassed as you mumble out your response but Jungkook’s immediate reply makes you look up, surprised.

“Me too.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling in his lower lip with his teeth as he comes to a slow stop and looks at you.

“What?”

“Let's get a drink,” he says, not even waiting for you to respond. There are more people dancing now so he weaves you through them, over to the mostly empty tables. Then towards the double doors leading into the rest of the mansion.

Huffing, you try your best to keep up. “I thought we were getting a drink.”

“No, I just said that.” He continues leading you as he walks through the corridors you hadn’t previously seen.

“Where are you going, Koo?”

“I went past it somewhere,” he says, talking more to himself as he keeps walking past a few doors, peering in each one as he does.

“Where?”

“Ah.” He stops, pulling you through a door. He lets go of your hand as he goes to close the door behind him.

Looking around the dimly lit room with only a small window on the far right, you narrow your eyes in confusion. There’s tall racks with coats and hats and other items, lined up along the walls and two others in the centre of the room. A single desk and chair is in one corner, multiple tags arranged in a box amongst a few other neatly placed items of stationary. “A cloak room?” you ask, dubiously, turning around. “Why are we–”

Jungkook kisses you – hard. Hands circling your waist, he’s stepping forward until you're backed up into a wall. One hand finds your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek sweetly while he tugs on your lower lip between his teeth. 

“Oh,” you sigh out loud, now realising. “Cloak room,” you say, dumbly.

“Uh-huh,” he purrs, lips moving to your jaw. “Couldn’t help myself.”

His hot breath sends shivers down your spine, hips arching against the wall. “That-that’s totally okay.”

“You sure?” His tongue swipes just under your jaw, close to your ear, oh so delicately.

“Absolutely.” Grabbing his face, you kiss him hard again, taking pleasure in every second that passes with his lips on yours. 

Opening wider, his tongue darts across yours, the salacious act leaving you desperate for more. You deepen the kiss, fingers curling in his hair as your hips involuntarily push forward again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates, pressing hard against you so you can physically feel just how bad he wants this. His bulge gets you right where it feels good and you falter, knees going weak as one gives way.

Jungkook holds you tight, laughing softly, “That good, huh?” 

“Duh.”

He kneels down, taking your ankle and lifting your heel to his thigh. “You're so pretty,” he says, more to himself than you. He takes your shoes off, right one first, then the left. With your foot still resting on his thigh, he looks up at you, hand slowly caressing your skin as he moves towards your inner thigh.

Even without the heels, you still feel your knees going weak but it feels so good. He watches your lips part, breaths picking up as you try your best to stay patient. “Please do something, Koo.”

“Patience, princess,” he teases and you whine, prompting him to laugh. “Okay.” Acquiescing, he turns his head, placing a rousing kiss on your skin. “So soft,” he murmurs, between kisses. “So perfect.” You want him so bad. “All mine.” With every touch of his lips, his mouth inches closer to where you want him, slowly but surely. Goosebumps prickling your skin, you release short soft breaths and will yourself to be patient.

Jungkook hums, nipping you with light force. “Feel good?” His tone tells you he’s tortured by his own pace as much as you are.

“Yes.”

He looks up, eyes glazed over with a hunger for more. “Tell me what you want.” His fingers brush your sex, barely. 

“Touch me, please.” 

He brushes you again, fingers working their way over your damp underwear. “Like this?” He revels in your soft whimpers.

“More.”

In one swift motion, he pulls your underwear down and reveals everything. You don’t feel shy in the slightest, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. “So pretty.” Fingers sliding over your wet lips, he exhales before he smacks you lightly. “And all mine.”

You whine, moving your hips again to remind him of your needs and he doesn’t make you wait this time. Collecting your slick on his fingers as he moves them back and forth, he then uses his thumb to stroke your clit, the contact making your knees buckle again.

Jungkoook grabs your left leg and places it over your shoulder as he repositions himself for better access. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste so good as well.”

“Why don't you find out?”

“Mm, I will,” Jungkook chuckles, sliding one finger inside you. “Not just yet.”

“Oh.” Your hand falls to his shoulder, digging in hard.

He stretches you,  watching as you react. Once he’s sure you're good, he adds a second finger, stroking exactly where it feels good.

“Please don’t stop.”

He grips your thigh, holding you up well. “I won’t.” Leaning in, his mouth makes contact with your clit and you mewl under his touch. He’s slow with it first, sucking and circling lightly and you want more. Under the soft silk of your dress, your nipples harden and you reach for one, toying with yourself. Seeing this, Jungkook groans. “That's it baby, touch yourself more.”

Obeying, you pull the straps off your shoulder and let the top of your dress fall, gathering around your waist where you hold it out of Jungkook’s way. His soft moan as you touch yourself tells you he’s enjoying it and as his fingers grip you harder, he starts to flick your clit.

“Oh, that’s it.” It's all you need to feel yourself reaching an orgasm, teetering on the edge as he adjusts his pace. “Please, I’m so close.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I wanna hear you.” He fingers you harder as his tongue works overtime to get you to come and it works — in a rippling wave, your orgasm washes over you and all you can do is moan as pleasure courses through you. Jungkook keeps you up, slowing down once the peak has passed. He withdraws his fingers and you make sure to steady your legs as he stands. “You're so hot,” he says, looking at you in complete adoration and lust.

Feeling flushed, you manage to smile. “Thanks. Now my turn, please?”

Jungkook chuckles, stepping forward. “I don't think I can be that patient, princess.” As he presses against you, you can feel him a lot more than you could before.

“Oh.”

He tilts his head, hand brushing your chin as he pulls your lips to his. You can taste yourself as he kisses you, tongue stroking yours in tandem motion while he uses his other hand to caress your breasts, moulding the soft flesh before pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. It rallies up arousal for more but your first priority is him. 

“Why are your clothes still on?” You question out loud, having just now realised.

Jungkook suppresses a chuckle, lips quirking into a smile as you make quick work of his tie and shirt.

Your hands roam the expanse of his broad, muscular chest. “Much better.” You only take a moment to appreciate the tattooed eye candy before pulling him back in for another sensual kiss, driven by your desire to make him feel good now, Fingers deftly undo his zipper and within seconds, your hand is slipping past his boxers and gripping his length. The girth alone has your pussy throbbing again. Jungkook releases a low sigh, his kisses becoming more insistent as you pull his cock out of his pants and play with him. 

With a slow swipe of your thumb over his head, Jungkook moans, teeth tugging on your lips and you drag your hand up and down his length, faster each time.

“Let me have a taste, please.”

“Fuck,” he sighs. Looking at your pleading face, he agrees.

You drop to your knees in an instant, letting your dress fall entirely as you go. Without wasting any time, your mouth is on his cock, tongue swirling his red, leaking tip before you move your head. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, voice strained as he looks down at your naked form below him.

Focused on his cock and eager to please, you just hum in response and keep going while he gently moves your hair back, gripping it behind you and you have to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to ease yourself to the sound of his soft grunts and groans. As they get louder, you grip his thighs and take him as deep as you can. Despite trying not to choke, you cough a little and Jungkook moves back, pulling himself out of your mouth. 

“You good?”

“Great,” you nod, trying to go back in.

Jungkook chuckles, pulling you up before you can get there. “I can’t wait any longer.” His pupils are blown out with carnal desire but his tone is otherwise gentle and affectionate. “Can I please fuck you?”

“You don't have to ask me twice.”

He pulls a condom out of his pocket, tearing the wrapper with his teeth.

Seeing this, your brow arches. “How do you have that?”

Jungkook pauses, looking slightly embarrassed. “Alias,” he says, more in a hushed whisper.

Pursing your lips together, you refrain from laughing. “Alias?”

Jungkook nods, placing the condom on while he explains. “He gave it to me just when we got here before you guys did. He said, and I quote, if there was ever a good time to declare my love for you in its physical form, it's a wedding.”

Shaking your head, you laugh again. “He would know.”

“Oh I know,” Jungkook nods. Alias has a bit of a reputation for being a womaniser on steroids when it comes to weddings.

“I’m glad he gave it though,” you shrug, pulling Jungkook closer. 

“Me too.” His lips find yours again, starting off sweet and slow. Hands circling your waist, he lifts you and your legs wrap around him instinctively. He takes his shirt from the rack you’d flung it towards earlier and walks you towards the desk in the corner and you use the chance to tease him, breaking away to kiss his ear and nibble his lobe.

“You sure you wanna do that?” he chuckles darkly.

“Very.”

He throws his shirt down on the desk before placing you on top. “You sure?” His fingers find your sex, gliding through your cum.

Dazed, you nod.

He takes his cock in one hand and spreads your legs with the other. With a small step forward, he pushes his head into your clit and you whine, wanting more. Deliberately, he slides himself down your pussy, coating his length in your cum. 

“Koo, do something,” you plead, fingers gripping the edge of the table hard.

Unable to resist any longer, Jungkook swears under his breath, pushing himself into you in one steady motion. You gasp, feeling the entirety of him fill you up so good. Jungkook doesn't move, eyes pressed shut as he acclimatises himself to the feeling of being inside you. 

The gratifying burn from being stretched out makes you tense in anticipation. As a result, Jungkook inhales, fingers gripping your thighs harder. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see both of you joined and slowly pulls out, watching his cock glisten with your wetness. Back and forth he goes, moaning at the sight of it.

“Fuck me, properly,” you huff, growing impatient with need.

He rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek and smirks. In one quick motion, Jungkook shoves his dick back inside of you. “Done.”

You brace yourself, moving your hands back behind you on the table and you’re right to do so. Jungkook fucks you with no inhibition, hammering your sweet spot every single time. You always knew he was good at everything — cooking, golf, rugby, gardening, fixing things, running, heck any sport, singing, even poetry when he tries — but the way he fucks you goes beyond any expectation you could’ve had. 

You can do nothing but sit there and take it, jaw slack as your legs spread wide for him. Crying out for more, he gives you what you want and takes you to orgasm. A blissful sensation ensues, heightened by the fact that you’re with Jungkook and you cry his name as you climax. Holding your trembling frame secure, he follows closely himself, coming hard and hot into the condom. 

Heavy breathing is the only sound that fills the room for a moment. You’re basking in all of Jungkook’s post-sex glory, his chest glistening with a sheen of sweat as a few strands of hair now stick to his forehead. He lowers your legs to the desk, kissing you lazily on the forehead before he pulls out and disposes the condom in the trash can under the desk. 

He takes some tissues from the box behind you and attempts to clean himself before zipping up. “You okay?”

Exhaling, you push yourself off the desk. “Never been better.” Your legs wobble as you stand and Jungkook holds you still.

“Best sex I ever had,” he says as a passing comment, helping you clean up.

And you agree. “We’re definitely doing that again.” it’s just now, you realise you’re completely naked in the middle of the cloakroom.

Jungkook is already crossing the room, picking up your dress and heels. Together, you make sure you both look presentable enough to rejoin the wedding. 

Running your fingers through his hair, a smile graces his lips involuntarily. His happiness is infectious and you grin. “Happy?”

“Words can’t even describe it. Especially with you messing my hair up like that.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

You laugh, swatting his arm gently. "Hey, I'm going for the tousled look. It's called fashion, Jeon, look it up.

"Of course," he says, nodding sagely. "My mistake. You're clearly ahead of your time.

"Exactly!" you say, with mock seriousness. "Now, are you going to kiss me or keep critiquing my hairstyling?"

Leaning in, he places a tender kiss on your lips before his expression shifts, carrying a hint of solemnity. “I am sorry for everything that happened before though.”

“It’s fine. You already apologised. Besides, so am I.”

“You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I could’ve been more honest with you.”

“I should have been first. It’s because of me everything happened that way. If I’d been honest, you wouldn’t have been hurt in the process.”

Sighing softly, you grasp his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “But we’re here now, it happened for a reason. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.”

He smiles and nods. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

6 months later.

“Finally!” Pushing the back of your earrings in, you step onto the landing. “We need to leave soon.”

Jungkook puts down his carry bag by the door, a wide grin on his face. “Are those the earrings I got you last week?”

You nod, smiling. “I’ve been so excited to wear them, they’re so perfect.”

“They’re perfect on you.” He kisses your cheek, still admiring you.

“Alright, I’ll be ready in 15 minutes.” Your dad steps in the front door, putting his own carry bag down next to Jungkook’s as he catches sight of you. “Oh, Y/N, dear, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, dad,” you grin. “How was golf?”

“Your dad doesn’t like to lose, I’ll tell you that,” Jungkook chuckled, glancing at your dad with a playful smirk. “Although he almost beat me this time.”

“Almost being the operative word," your dad retorted with a grin, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, He's definitely got some tricks up his sleeve.”

“Coming from you.” Your dad looks at Jungkook, definitely impressed. “You really surprised me today.”

Jungkook shrugs, a quirk to his lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” 

Their cryptic conversation goes unnoticed by you as you check you’ve got everything in your purse. “That’s fab, guys, now hurry up. We need to leave or Alex will never invite us to another party again.” 

“Alright, I’ll just put these away.” Jungkook picks up the carry bags while you rush back upstairs, having remembered to put perfume on. Watching you go, Jungkook feels a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see your mom come through the kitchen.

“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife,” your dad beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She smiles and turns to Jungkook. "Excited for tonight?" she whispers, her voice filled with barely contained excitement.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as he nods. “She still has no idea right?” 

“Not a clue.”

“Good.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re all gathered by the front door, ready to leave as your dad sets the alarm. You step out into the driveway, met by a gust of warm evening breeze. Looking at the horizon, the warm glow of the setting sun paints the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a serene ambiance and you feel a wave of contentment. 

Jungkook appears at your side, looking at you like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again. Smiling, you lean in and give him a kiss.

“What was that for?”

“I just love you… lots.”

Something in Jungkook’s expression shifts. “Me too.

Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine. “Ready?”

Jungkook nods, thumb circling your bare ring finger, which, unbeknownst to you, will soon be holding the most perfect princess cut diamond as a promise of forever with him.

“Ready.”

note. thank you for reading! i really hope you liked it! ✨ please share + let me know your thoughts <3 more fics coming soon ;)

[xo100]

Club - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: You bump into Lando Norris at a club, sparking a flirty connection. After a fun night, you exchange numbers.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1324

୨ৎ

The club was buzzing with music, flashing lights, and laughter as Lando Norris and his best friend, Max Fewtrell, strolled inside, soaking up the electric atmosphere of Monaco's nightlife. They’d become regulars at the hottest clubs, both enjoying the release and freedom that came with an adrenaline-filled F1 season.

Tonight, though, felt a little different. Lando wasn’t quite sure why yet, but he could feel it. Maybe it was the energy in the air, maybe it was the fact that the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, or maybe it was something—or someone—he hadn’t met yet.

Max had already gravitated towards the bar, ordering shots for them both. Lando, more on the relaxed side that night, looked around the dance floor. Bodies were moving to the beat, swaying under the neon lights, but he wasn’t ready to join in just yet. “ You good, mate?” Max grinned as he handed Lando a drink, already buzzing from the energy and a few earlier rounds.

“Yeah, just checking things out,” Lando replied, scanning the dance floor.

-

On the other side of the club, you and your best friend were lost in the moment, dancing together to the beat of the music, laughing and cheering each other on. It was one of those nights where everything felt carefree, where nothing mattered except the moment. The crowd was thick, and with the music pulsing through your veins, you didn’t notice the space around you shrinking.

That is, until you accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, looking up at the guy whose back you had just collided with.

Lando turned around, slightly startled, but when his eyes met yours, his expression softened into an easy smile. “No worries at all,” he replied, his voice barely audible over the booming music. His accent was unmistakable—British, smooth—and somehow comforting. For a split second, you were caught off guard. You didn’t realize who he was at first, just that he had the kind of grin that made you feel like everything was instantly better.

Max, who had witnessed the entire interaction, nudged Lando with a teasing look. “Looks like someone’s making new friends.” You laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Lando chuckled. “Well, if it was on purpose, that’s one way to get my attention.” His eyes sparkled under the club lights, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Guess it worked, then,” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Definitely.” Lando stepped a little closer, the music thumping in the background as the two of you stood there, your friends momentarily forgotten. “You come here often?”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Not really. Just here for a fun night with my friend.” Lando glanced toward your best friend, who was still dancing, then back at you. “Seems like you’re having a good time.”

“Yeah, and I think I just made it better by bumping into you.”

Max, who had been listening in, couldn’t help but laugh loudly, slapping Lando on the back. “Mate, she’s good! You’re gonna have to keep up.” Lando shot him a look, but there was no hiding his grin. He was intrigued by you, by the ease of the conversation, and how natural it felt to be standing there talking like you’d known each other forever. Usually, nights out were fun, but they blurred together. But tonight? You had somehow made it stand out.

“Do you wanna dance?” Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

You felt a spark of excitement flicker in your chest, but you played it cool. “Are you sure you can keep up with me?”

His competitive streak kicked in, and Lando smirked. “Oh, I think I can handle it.”

With a playful nudge, you both moved onto the dance floor, joining the crowd as the DJ switched the track to something a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel Lando’s presence next to you, the warmth of his body as the two of you moved in sync to the music. His eyes never left yours, and every time you looked over, he had that same cheeky grin plastered on his face. He wasn’t the best dancer—not by a long shot—but the fact that he didn’t care made it even more fun. He let loose, spinning you around with a laugh, not caring if he got the steps wrong or if he bumped into someone else. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the two of you lost in the moment.

Max, on the sidelines, gave a thumbs-up to Lando before disappearing back toward the bar to give his friend some space.

As the night went on, you and Lando kept dancing, joking, and sharing easy conversation in between songs. At one point, you found yourself standing off to the side, catching your breath while the music pumped around you. “I have to ask,” you said, tilting your head as you looked up at him. “Do you always meet girls by having them bump into you?”

Lando laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s a first. But I think I’m gonna make it a thing now.”

“You should,” you teased. “Works like a charm.”

The conversation flowed easily, and Lando felt a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol or the heat of the club. There was something about you—something he couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was your sense of humor, or the way you didn’t seem fazed by who he was, treating him like anyone else. Whatever it was, he liked it.

“I’m Lando, by the way,” he said after a beat, extending his hand with a smile.

“I know,” you admitted, shaking his hand. “I recognized you after a few seconds. I just didn’t want to be that person who says it right away.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand before he let it go.

“And I’m Y/N,” you added with a soft smile.

“I like it,” Lando said, his voice quieter now as the music shifted to something slower, the lights dimming around you both.

For a moment, everything seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you in that crowded club, standing a little too close but neither of you caring. You could feel the pull between you, something unspoken but undeniable. Lando hesitated for a second, then leaned down slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“So, Y/N,” he began, his eyes locking onto yours, “what do I have to do to see you again?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, surprised by the question but also thrilled. You hadn’t expected anything from tonight—just a fun night out with your friend—but here you were, Lando Norris standing in front of you, asking for more time with you.

“Well,” you replied, biting your lip as you pretended to think it over. “I’d say don’t let me bump into anyone else tonight, and we can call it a deal.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Deal.”

As the night drew on, the two of you stayed together, talking and laughing like you’d known each other for much longer than just a few hours. And as the club started to empty and the night air cooled, Lando realized that tonight had been different. It had been more than just a usual night out in Monaco. And as he walked you outside to make sure you got home safely, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something unexpected, something exciting.

You exchanged numbers before parting ways, a soft promise hanging in the air between you both that this wouldn’t be the last time. And as Lando watched you disappear into the night, he couldn’t help but smile.

This was just the beginning.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; Thank you for readying! I hope you enjoyed it!

[shdysders]

what we were

pairing: tara carpenter & reader

summary: in which you would’ve married tara, if she had stuck around.

word count: 4.9k

author’s note: just bare with me.

You had never planned on getting married.

It wasn't a conscious decision, just something that slowly etched itself into the back of your mind as the years passed.

Growing up, you'd watched your mother pick up the pieces after your father left, her quiet strength masking the pain that you knew lingered beneath the surface.

There was no bitter divorce or fiery arguments to signal his departure—just the gradual fading of a man who was once the center of your world.

One day, he was gone, leaving only the hollow echo of promises that were never meant to be kept.

Your mother never talked much about it, but you could see the toll it took on her.

How she would stare out of the kitchen window a little too long, lost in memories that were best left untouched.

You learned early on that love, in its most idealized form, was fragile—something that could shatter without warning, leaving you to pick up the shards.

So, you built walls, fortified them with indifference, and told yourself that you didn't need anyone to complete you.

Marriage was a fairy tale, one that you had long since stopped believing in.

That was, until you met Tara.

Tara, was everything you never knew you needed; sharp-witted, fiercely independent, with a heart bigger than she'd ever admit.

The first time you met her, you were caught off guard by how effortlessly she seemed to break through the walls you'd spent years constructing.

It wasn't just her smile, though that alone could've disarmed you; it was the way she looked at you, like she saw past the armor you wore and straight into the core of who you were.

You tried to keep your distance at first, reminding yourself that you didn't believe in forever. But Tara wasn't the kind of person you could easily push away.

She had this way of showing up when you least expected it, making you laugh when you wanted to be serious, and staying when you needed someone most—even when you couldn't admit it.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the idea of a life without her became more terrifying than the fear of losing her.

It wasn't that the old wounds from your past magically healed, or that the doubts you harbored suddenly disappeared.

But with Tara, the possibility of something lasting felt less like a fairy tale and more like something real—something you could hold onto, despite the uncertainties that lingered in the corners of your mind.

You found yourself imagining a future, not in the abstract way you used to, where it was always just you—alone and self-reliant—but a future that included her.

The thought scared you, but it also made you feel something you hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

It wasn't long before Tara started talking about you to her friends, and soon after, you found yourself meeting the people who meant the most to her.

A few months into your relationship, Tara built up the courage to allow you to meet Sam.

From everything Tara had told you about her sister, you quickly learned that Sam was hard to please.

She was fiercely protective, always scrutinizing anyone who got close to Tara, and you figured you'd be just another name on her list of disapprovals.

However, that was never the case.

Tara later explained how surprised she was when Sam actually warmed up to you.

She had told you how Sam had admitted that, for the first time, she didn't feel the need to interrogate or push you away.

Sam had seen something in you that made her feel comfortable, something that made her believe you were different from the others who had come before. It was an unspoken approval, one that Tara knew was rare and precious.

The approval was more than just a stamp of acceptance; it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, you were capable of the kind of love you'd always doubted existed—at least for you.

But even then, despite the closeness you and Tara shared, you never thought you'd be the kind of person who'd want to settle down, to make that ultimate commitment.

Marriage was still an abstract concept, one that other people did, but never you.

You had convinced yourself that you didn't need a ring or a ceremony to validate what you and Tara had.

But as the months turned into years, you started to realize that it wasn't about the validation. It was about wanting to build something with her—something lasting and undeniable.

You found yourself imagining a future where Tara was by your side, not just in an abstract sense, but in every way that mattered.

The thought of proposing crept into your mind one day, completely unbidden, and you immediately tried to push it away. You weren't the type to get down on one knee, to promise forever when you knew how easily forever could be taken away.

Yet, the idea persisted, lingering at the edge of your thoughts, especially during the quiet moments when Tara was asleep beside you, her hand resting gently on your chest, as if she was anchoring you to her.

You'd never imagined yourself as the kind of person who would propose to anyone. The very idea felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else's story. But with Tara, you started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you'd been wrong all along.

It wasn't that you suddenly believed in marriage as a concept, but rather, you believed in what you had with Tara.

Maybe this was exactly the kind of story you wanted to write—a story where you weren't afraid to say, "I choose you," not just today, but every day for the rest of your life.

Two years into your relationship, you made the decision to propose.

Surprisingly, you had even gotten Sam's permission, something you never thought you'd need but found yourself seeking anyway, wanting her blessing before taking such a significant step.

The idea had been slowly taking shape in your mind, and now it felt like the right time. You wanted it to be perfect, not flashy or over-the-top, but something that felt true to both of you.

One of your usual date nights seemed like the perfect setting—familiar, yet with the potential to become something unforgettable.

You decided to make the night extra special. When you suggested going to a more expensive restaurant than your usual spots, Tara was visibly surprised.

She had raised an eyebrow and teased you about suddenly getting fancy, almost saying no because of the high prices.

But when you offered to cover everything, her smile had softened, and she had agreed.

You knew that Tara wasn't one for grand gestures or extravagant displays, which is why you kept the details simple yet meaningful.

The restaurant was intimate, with dim lighting and a cozy atmosphere, the kind of place where you could easily lose yourselves in conversation.

You had made sure to pick a spot that you knew Tara would love—somewhere that felt like the two of you, but elevated just enough to mark the occasion.

As the evening approached, you could feel the anticipation building, but there was also a sense of calm.

This wasn't about proving anything or trying to impress her; it was about sharing a moment that would forever change the course of your lives together, for the better.

You had planned every detail carefully, but more than anything, you just wanted to tell Tara exactly what you'd been feeling for so long—that you couldn't imagine a future without her, and that you didn't want to.

When the time finally came, you chose to wear the sundress that Tara had once told you she loved on you. It was a soft, flowing dress in a shade of pale blue that always made you feel both comfortable and confident.

You wore your hair half up, half down, just the way Tara liked it, with a few loose strands framing your face. You wanted to look your best, but more importantly, you wanted to look like yourself—the person Tara fell in love with.

Tara arrived in a sleek, black blouse paired with dark jeans, an outfit that was effortlessly chic and perfectly her.

The way she carried herself always took your breath away, and tonight was no different. But as you sat across from each other at the candle-lit table, you noticed that she seemed a bit off.

Tara was looking around nervously, her eyes darting from the menu to the other diners, then back to you, as if she had something else on her mind.

Your own nerves were starting to bubble up, the weight of what you were about to do making your heart race.

You couldn't shake the anxious thoughts running through your head—what if you didn't find the right words, or if the moment didn't go as planned?

But every time Tara's eyes met yours, you found yourself smiling. It was impossible not to. Even with the nerves, even with the uncertainty of how she might react, you knew that this was the right decision.

As you both settled into the evening, your food arrived, and you began eating, trying to keep the conversation flowing naturally despite the butterflies in your stomach.

You had it all planned out. The proposal was going to happen after you both had finished your meal.

You knew Tara's appreciation for surprises and had arranged something special with the restaurant staff. When the time came, a waitress would bring out a beautifully wrapped box, something you had requested to make the moment even more memorable.

It was a small gesture, but one that you knew Tara would appreciate—a carefully wrapped box with a heartfelt message inside that symbolized the depth of your feelings.

The idea was for Tara to open the box and discover a note or memento that would lead into the proposal.

The plan was for Tara to see the message first, giving you just enough time to reach for the ring and get down on one knee before she fully realized what was happening.

You imagined the look of surprise and joy on her face as she opened the box, unaware that this was just the beginning of the moment you had carefully orchestrated.

You kept up the conversation, trying to keep things light and natural despite the nervous energy building inside you.

Tara seemed a little distracted, still glancing around the room every now and then, but you didn't press her on it. You wanted everything to feel as normal as possible until the big reveal.

Every bite was a mix of anticipation and excitement, your heart pounding as you mentally rehearsed what you were going to say.

Tara, on the other hand, seemed to be in her own world, picking at her food more than usual and occasionally glancing around the room, almost as if she had something else on her mind.

You couldn't help but feel a bit of nervousness from her too.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that soon, you'd be asking the most important question of your life.

As you were both eating in comfortable silence, Tara suddenly set down her fork and shifted in her seat. She looked like she was trying to gather her thoughts, and then she spoke up, her voice soft but uncertain.

"So..." she began, her eyes filled with nervous energy as she looked up at you. You immediately sensed that whatever she was about to say was important, so you paused, giving her your full attention.

"I've been thinking about something," she continued, her words tentative, as if she was unsure how to start.

For a brief moment, a thought flashed through your mind—was she planning to propose too?

But that idea was quickly replaced by a gnawing feeling of concern as you noticed the hesitation in her voice, the way she avoided your gaze for just a moment too long.

"I'm not really sure how to say this," she finally said, her voice wavering slightly. "But... I've been having some doubts lately. Not about us, exactly, but about... where we're headed. About the future."

Her words hit you like a cold splash of water, and suddenly the nervousness you'd been feeling took on a different edge. You forced yourself to stay calm, to keep listening as she continued.

"It's not that I don't love you," she said quickly, as if she could see the worry in your eyes. "I do, so much. But I've been wondering if we're moving too fast, or if maybe... we're not moving in the same direction anymore. I've thought a lot about it, and I keep coming back to the same thing. I don't know if I can keep going like this, if this is what's best for either of us."

Tara's voice cracked slightly as she continued, her words coming out in a rush, as if saying them faster would somehow make them hurt less.

"I've been thinking about this for a while, and I didn't know how to bring it up because the last thing I want is to hurt you. But the more I've thought about it, the more I realized that maybe this is the right thing, for both of us. I don't want you to think that this is about you, or that you did something wrong, because you haven't. You've been nothing but amazing, but I just... I think maybe we've grown in different directions, or maybe I'm just not in the right place to be in a relationship right now."

"I think... I think we need to take a step back. Maybe a break, or maybe... we need to stop this altogether."

She paused only briefly before continuing, her words stumbling over each other as she tried to justify what she was saying.

"I mean, I don't even know if I'm making sense right now, and I'm probably messing this up completely. But I just don't want us to keep going down this path if it's not the right one, you know? I care about you so much, and that's why this is so hard. I wish I could just... make this easier somehow."

You felt your heart shatter with each word, your entire body going cold as the reality of what she was saying set in. Your face must have betrayed the sheer disbelief and devastation you felt because Tara's eyes softened, but it did nothing to ease the pain ripping through you.

Your hands, which had been steady on the table, began to tremble uncontrollably. You quickly pulled them into your lap, trying to hide the shaking but finding it impossible to stop.

The fork you had been holding clattered against your plate as you set it down, your fingers no longer able to maintain their grip.

It felt like your mind was racing and shutting down all at once. You couldn't focus on her words, the constant stream of explanations and apologies blending into a blur of noise that only amplified the void growing in your chest.

It was as though the ground had disappeared beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a moment of pure, paralyzing disbelief.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it only seemed to grow, making it hard to breathe.

The sting of tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall, not here, not now.

Your lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came out. How could they, when everything you wanted to say felt too small, too insignificant compared to the enormity of what was happening?

The silence between you was suffocating, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of the reality you were struggling to accept.

Tara's eyes were fixed on you, wide and pleading, as if she desperately wanted you to understand, to say something that would make this easier, but there was nothing you could offer her.

Your hands, now hidden beneath the table, clenched into fists so tightly that your nails dug into your palms, the pain barely registering against the overwhelming numbness that had settled in.

You could feel the warmth of the room closing in on you, the walls seeming to press closer as you fought to keep your composure.

Tara's voice broke the silence again, softer this time, almost a whisper. "I'm so sorry," she said, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I didn't want it to be like this. I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. I just... I didn't know how else to do this."

Her apology only added to the weight in your chest, and you could feel a tear finally escape, slipping down your cheek before you could stop it.

You quickly wiped it away, but it was too late—Tara had seen it, and the sight seemed to break something in her too.

She reached out, as if to comfort you, but hesitated, her hand hovering just above the table before she withdrew it again, uncertainty written all over her face.

It was as if she knew that any attempt to console you would only make things worse.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, the words barely audible as she looked down at her hands, now twisting together in her lap. "You have to believe that."

You wanted to scream, to demand why, to tell her how wrong she was, how she was breaking something that had been so good, so right.

But all you could do was sit there, frozen, as the weight of her words continued to sink in.

The future you had imagined, the plans you had started to make in your head—it all felt like it was crumbling before your eyes, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, as you sat there, staring blankly at your lap. Tara's words seemed to hang in the air, and the weight of them was almost unbearable.

The tears you had been trying to hold back had started to fall more freely, slipping down your cheeks in a steady stream.

Tara watched you with a mix of anguish and desperation, her own eyes brimming with tears that she was struggling to keep at bay.

"Please," she said, her voice breaking as she finally spoke, "please say something."

Her plea was almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of her regret and her need for any kind of response from you. She was clearly tormented by the sight of you in pain and the realization that she was the cause.

As you sat there, lost in your turmoil, the restaurant's ambiance seemed to fade into the background.

The clinking of dishes and the soft murmur of conversations around you felt distant and muffled. The weight of the conversation you'd just had with Tara hung heavily in the air, each word echoing painfully in your mind.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached your table, and a waitress appeared, holding a small, elegantly wrapped box. She smiled warmly as she set the box down in front of Tara. "Congratulations!" she said cheerfully.

The unexpected greeting cut through the somber mood, and Tara's eyes widened in surprise. Her gaze darted between the box and you, the reality of the situation hitting her with a jolt. "Oh... um, we didn't order anything like this," Tara said, her voice a mix of confusion and discomfort.

The waitress smiled politely. "It was actually a special request from someone who wanted to celebrate with you. I hope you enjoy it!"

Tara's face turned pale as the waitress walked away, leaving the box on the table. The cheerful congratulations seemed to hang in the air, contrasting starkly with the heavy silence that had enveloped the two of you.

As Tara stared at the box, the realization began to dawn on her. The weight of her words, the hurt she had caused, and the timing of this surprise all seemed to collide in her mind.

Her gaze fell back to you, the gravity of the moment settling in even more deeply. The congratulations, intended for a joyous occasion, now highlighted the painful irony of the situation.

Tara's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the box, her fingers hovering over it as if touching it might make the reality of what was happening even more real. "Is this... is this what I think it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of disbelief and dread.

You didn't respond right away, your eyes fixed on the box as well, but not really seeing it.

The moment you had spent weeks planning, imagining how it would unfold, had turned into a twisted echo of what it should have been.

The anticipation, the joy you had envisioned on her face, was replaced with this heavy, suffocating silence.

Tara's voice grew more desperate, almost pleading as she repeated, "Were you... were you going to propose?" Her eyes searched yours, looking for some kind of denial, something that could make this all less real, less painful.

You nodded slowly, your throat too tight to speak. The words you had prepared, the heartfelt confession of love and commitment, were now stuck somewhere deep inside, unreachable.

Tara's fingers trembled as she carefully unwrapped the box, her breath catching as she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was the ring—delicate, simple, and exactly her style. The realization hit her all at once, leaving her breathless.

She stared at it, eyes wide with the shock of realization.

She paused, her breath shaky as she tried to form a coherent thought. "I... I thought we were on the same page. I thought... God, I didn't mean for it to be like this."

You could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. The words felt too heavy, too final. All you could do was sit there, the ring between you like a painful reminder of what could have been.

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with regret. "I... I didn't think..." she started, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

The box, meant to be a celebratory gesture, now seemed like a painful reminder of everything that was unraveling.

The sight of the box, coupled with the realization of how her actions had intersected with the surprise, only deepened the sadness in the room.

She knew that the box was part of a carefully planned proposal—a gesture that was supposed to mark a new chapter in your lives together.

Her thoughts were consumed by the realization of what you had intended.

She could almost see the moment you had envisioned: the box opening to reveal a heartfelt message or token that would lead into a proposal.

Tara had always admired how much thought you put into your plans, and she could imagine the love and hope you had poured into this gesture.

The irony of the situation hit her. Hard.

Here was a beautiful, wrapped box that was meant to symbolize a future together, and yet, it was now sitting in front of her at a moment when the future seemed so uncertain.

The very thing that was supposed to be a celebration of your commitment was now a reminder of the choice she had made.

Tara felt a deep pang of regret as she thought about how much you wanted to marry her, how you had envisioned this proposal as a milestone in your relationship.

How you had trusted her enough. 

She grappled with the realization that while you had been preparing to take a significant step forward, she was now pulling away.

The box represented everything she was suddenly unsure about, and the emotional weight of that contradiction was almost unbearable.

The anticipation and excitement she might have felt for the proposal were overshadowed by the painful reality of the moment, making her wish more than ever that things could be different.

As Tara struggled with the emotional weight of the moment, another waitress approached your table with a notepad in hand.

"Excuse me," she said with a bright smile, "are you ready to order your desserts?"

The question seemed to pierce through the heavy atmosphere, and you sniffled before looking up with tear-filled eyes. Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling as you said, "I don't think we're staying for dessert. I think we're going to leave."

Tara's heart broke at the sight of you, her own tears threatening to spill as she saw the pain in your eyes.

The sadness in your voice, coupled with the way you tried to hold yourself together, was almost too much for her to bear.

The image of you standing there, so small and hurt, was a stark contrast to the joyful proposal you had imagined.

As you began to stand up, Tara's voice cracked as she reached out, her hands shaking. "Y/N, please don't leave."

She paused, searching for the right words, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, let's just... talk this through. I don't want to lose you like this. There's so much I need to say."

Tara's gaze was locked on you, her eyes pleading as she took a shaky breath. The pain of the situation was evident in her expression, and she hoped against hope that you would stay, if only for a little while longer.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's fine, Tara."

But your voice betrayed you, shaking as you said the words, even though nothing about this felt fine.

You wanted to say more, to explain how lost and hurt you felt, but the words caught in your throat, and all you could do was shake your head slightly. "I just... I don't know what to say."

You sniffled, quickly wiping away a tear that escaped before Tara could see it. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" But even as you said it, the words felt empty, like a promise you weren't sure you could keep.

Without waiting for a response, you stood up from the table, your movements stiff and mechanical, as if you were on autopilot.

Tara watched you, her eyes wide with guilt and fear, but she stayed silent, her throat tightening as she saw the pain etched on your face.

You turned to leave, and Tara instinctively stood up, almost as if to follow, but she stopped herself.

Her hand gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white as she held herself back. She knew she couldn't make this better right now, and the weight of that realization pressed heavily on her chest.

You pushed open the door, the night air hitting you as you stepped outside.

For a moment, you paused, feeling the tears threatening to spill over again, but you forced yourself to keep walking, each step taking you further away from the person you thought you'd spend your life with.

Inside the restaurant, Tara remained standing, her heart aching with a crushing guilt she couldn't shake.

She wanted to call out to you, to beg you to come back, but the words wouldn't come.

All she could do was watch as you disappeared into the night, the echo of your voice—the pain in it—ringing in her ears.

And as the door swung shut behind you, Tara was left standing there, alone, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on her.

She didn't move, didn't sit back down, just stood there, staring at the spot where you had been, feeling like everything had just slipped through her fingers.

But she knew, deep down, that following you wouldn't fix this—that nothing she could say right now would take away the hurt she had caused.

And that was something she would have to live with.

So she stayed where she was, the guilt heavy and suffocating, knowing that all she could do was wait and hope that this wasn't the last time she'd see you.

But she also knew that, for now, there was nothing more she could do.

Walking away, every step was taking you further from the life you thought you'd have, the future that had seemed so certain just hours before.

You had believed that you and Tara were writing the same story, that the future you both wanted was shared, built on a foundation of love and dreams whispered late into the night.

But standing there, with her words unraveling everything you thought was certain, you realized that while you had been planning a lifetime together, she had been questioning if that future was ever truly meant to be.

The hardest part wasn't just hearing her doubts—it was understanding that she had quietly let go of the future you were still holding onto.

She had left that future behind long before she ever said the words, moving on from the life you thought you would share.

And now, all that was left were the pieces of a dream that you had been building alone.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Just One Kiss

Summary: You & Charles are just best friends but when he wins in his home for the first time, things might change

Song: Reflections - The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Congratulations to Charles Leclerc for winning in his first home Monaco Grand Prix! This is my first F1 story and I recently started following F1 so please give constructive criticism.

Word count: 2.4k

Your best friend was racing across the last track, and you held your breath, anticipating the outcome. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and shouting as the finish line approached.

As he sprinted towards the end, you could see the determination behind his helmet, the sheer will to win. And then, in a burst of speed, he crossed the finish line, victorious.

The stadium erupted in applause, celebrating his incredible feat of athleticism and the months of hard work and training that had led to this moment.

His victory at the Monaco Grand Prix was not only a personal triumph but also a historical moment for his team. It marked his first win on this iconic track, solidifying his status as a rising star in the world of Formula 1 racing.

The streets of Monte Carlo were filled with joy and excitement as fans and fellow drivers alike celebrated his remarkable achievement.

As you joined in the jubilant celebration, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for your best friend. You had witnessed firsthand the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice he had poured into his career.

From early mornings at the gym to late nights studying data and analyzing race strategies, he had truly given his all.

And now, as you stood among the crowd, you knew that this victory was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey that would undoubtedly lead him to even greater heights in the world of Formula 1 racing.

As soon as he parked close enough, he jumped out of his racing car and ran over to his team with happiness. They embraced him with open arms, their faces beaming with pride and joy.

Together, they celebrated this monumental victory, knowing that it was the result of their collective effort and unwavering support. The atmosphere was electric, and the moment will forever be etched in their memories as a symbol of their shared triumph and unbreakable bond.

You squeezed through the crowd, determined to catch a glimpse of your best friend before he headed for the podium. Finally, you spotted him, his face still flushed with the adrenaline of the race.

You shouted his name, waving your arms to get his attention, and when he saw you, a wide smile spread across his face. He made his way towards you, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride and happiness for his incredible achievement.

As he ran over to you, a surge of joy and excitement overcame both of you. He engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you up off the ground.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as the exhilaration of the moment washed over you. The crowd roared in applause, their cheers blending with the sound of your friend's racing heartbeat, creating a symphony of triumph and friendship that echoed through the streets of Monte Carlo.

Placing you back down, you both looked at each other in silence, something you two started doing recently. It was as if words were no longer necessary to understand each other's thoughts and feelings.

"You did it," You whispered, unable to control the tears gushing down your face.

Charles grinned, "Yeah, I did, with you by my side," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and emotion.

While you played with his hair on the back of his head, you smiled back at him.

As if something had possessed you, you quickly leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Charles' lips.

Both of you were shocked by your actions, your eyes widening in surprise as you pulled away from the unexpected kiss.

What have you done?

The atmosphere around you seemed to pause for a moment, as if time itself had frozen, before the crowd erupted into a mix of gasps and cheers, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

Charles heard his manager call him, and as he quickly glanced back, his eyes met yours. He smiled, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in his expression, and said, "I'll talk to you when I come back, promise."

He left the embrace and followed his manager, disappearing into the crowd as he made his way towards the podium. As you stood there, still in shock from the unexpected kiss, you couldn't help but wonder how this moment would change everything between you and Charles.

The crowd continued to cheer, but in that fleeting moment, you both knew that something had shifted between you, and there was no going back. . . . .

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt as the laughter of Daniel echoed across the room as you explained your issue to him. It was clear that he found the situation amusing, and it made you question whether confiding in him was the right decision.

"Come on, don't be so hard on yourself," Daniel replied, his laughter subsiding.

"It's not every day that you accidentally kiss your best friend. But hey, maybe this could be the start of something amazing between you two."

You sighed, still unsure of how to navigate the complex emotions swirling within you. "I don't know, Daniel," you said softly. "I'm just worried that this kiss might ruin our friendship."

"Don't worry too much," Daniel reassured you. "Who knows, this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

"Exactly, maybe finally my favorite ship will get together," Oscar added, coming out of nowhere to join the conversation.

You lightly punched Oscar's arm for his comment, trying to hide your blush and dismiss his teasing. Deep down, though, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right, and if this unexpected kiss with Charles could truly lead to something more than just friendship.

"Just think about it, you two would look too cute together!" Oscar said while holding his arm in 'pain'.

"This is not what I meant when I asked for advice," you muttered, keeping an eye out of the Monegasque.

"Our advice is to ask him out, no ifs or buts," Daniel started.

"But," you interrupted, "what if he doesn't feel the same way? I don't want to risk losing our friendship."

Daniel sighed, understanding your hesitation. "I get it, but you'll never know unless you try. And if there's a 100 percent chance he says yes, then maybe it's worth taking the leap."

"But what if there's also a 100 percent chance he says no?" you countered, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Daniel paused, considering your question. "Well," he finally said, "then at least you'll have closure and can move on without any regrets."

As the boys left you, you couldn't help but mull over their advice. The idea of asking Charles out was both exhilarating and terrifying, but deep down, you knew that regretting never taking a chance would be even worse.

It didn't take you long to find out that Charles, along with the rest of his team, were celebrating their victory by the dock.

His smile was enough to make you retreat. The warmth in his eyes and the genuine happiness he exuded made you momentarily remember about doubts of asking him out.

Maybe, just maybe, you were content with keeping things as they were for now, cherishing the friendship you had with Charles.

The party was a lively affair, with colorful decorations adorning the dock and laughter filling the air. Families, drivers, and workers mingled together, sharing stories and celebrating the team's victory.

The aroma of delicious food wafted through the crowd, enticing everyone to indulge in the festive feast. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and joy, as people danced to the upbeat music and raised their glasses in cheers.

It was a true celebration of hard work and success, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to be a part of such a vibrant and supportive community.

As you observed the lively celebration from the corner, you took a moment to gather your thoughts and plan what you would say to Charles when you finally had a chance to speak with him.

Having given up on love, you found yourself scrolling through the online world looking for signs that he might be interested in you and what to say when you want to confess your feelings.

Maybe instead of relying on online advice or searching for signs, it might be best to have an open and honest conversation with Charles.

Find a quiet moment during the celebration to approach him, express your feelings sincerely, and ask if he would be interested in exploring a romantic relationship. By directly communicating your emotions, you can avoid misunderstandings and have a clearer understanding of where you both stand-

As you were lost in your thoughts, suddenly your chin was raised up and your eyes were forced off your phone and look into the eyes of Charles. His gaze was intense, and you could see a hint of curiosity and intrigue.

He then leaned in closer as he tilted your head up, his lips brushing against yours for seconds, and you could taste the salty sea water from when he jumped into the docks.

You were taken aback by the unexpected kiss, the taste of salty sea water lingering on your lips.

"Hey, can we talk somewhere else in private?" Charles asked desperately.

"Ye- Yeah," you stuttered, having Charles lead you with his hand in yours out of the party. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed him, wondering what he wanted to talk about in private.

As you stayed silent, your mind raced with possibilities of what Charles wanted to discuss in private. Was he going to reciprocate your feelings? Or was there something else entirely on his mind?

The anticipation and uncertainty only fueled your curiosity as you both entered the closest empty room.

Charles let go of your hand as soon as the room was secure, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was as if the connection you had just shared was abruptly severed, leaving you longing for his touch once more.

"Are you going to start or should I?" Charles asked as he leaned against a piece of furniture, his eyes never leave you.

The intense eye contact he made made you feel as though your legs were suddenly giving out.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" you muttered, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"Well, I'm thinking about the kiss you gave me in front of national television," he stated. His voice was filled with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of the millions of people who saw that intimate moment between the two of you.

"And I can't stop wondering if it was just in the moment or if there's something more between us."

You shake your head vigorously, denying any deeper meaning behind the kiss. "It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to be taken seriously."

There could never be anything between the two of you anyway. The public would never allow it. Just deny it.

"Mon chérie, are you sure? Because your expressions say otherwise," he teased as he started to walk over to you, his playful smile revealing that he saw through your denial.

The way he closed the distance between you made your heart race even faster, and you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for something more between you and Charles after all.

Charles always loved to tease you in every way possible. Either it was placing your cup on the top shelf or holding your phone in the air, he was always determined to tease you these days.

But this was different.

"No, Charles, I'm certain. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more," you insisted, desperately clinging to the denial. Deep down, you knew that pursuing anything with Charles would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment.

It was better to keep your feelings buried and maintain the illusion of friendship.

As Charles stood in front of you, barely any space between you two, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made it hard to maintain your denial.

The air crackled with tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Charles.

"Want to try again to see if it was just a 'momentary lapse'?" he asked, raising your chin again. His words sent a shiver down your spine, tempting you to give in and explore the possibility of something more.

His lips were hovering over yours, teasing you with the possibility of what could be. The air between you was charged with anticipation, and it took every ounce of willpower to resist the temptation and maintain your denial.

"Just say it," He muttered, "Just say it and I'll do the rest."

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn't deny the truth that they held. They were filled with a longing and desire that mirrored your own, and in that moment, you knew that your denial was futile.

"I want you," you finally whispered, surrendering to the undeniable connection between you and Charles.

Charles captured your lips with such hunger, his kiss filled with the years of unspoken longing and desire that had been building between you. In that moment, you both knew that there was no turning back, and that the possibility of something more had become an undeniable reality.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

In that moment, you both knew that you were no longer able to deny the magnetic pull between you, and that surrendering to this forbidden love was inevitable.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the midst of your passionate embrace.

Charles's eyes softened, filled with a mix of joy and relief, as he murmured, "I love you too," sealing your fate in a love that had been yearning to be acknowledged. . . .

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Levi and Satan (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4

Main Masterlist

A/N: not very satisfied with this one, but I don't want to get stuck in writer's block forever. I will revisit this in the future to improve it, but, until then, I hope you enjoy it <3

.

Leviathan – He didn’t think he deserved you

Companionship from him was hard to earn; not due to pickiness, but rather fear.

Would you make fun of him when you discovered the things he liked? Would you call him a pathetic, sad excuse of a demon?

He wasn’t embarrassed about his passions, mind you; in fact, he was quite proud of them, but he knew an otaku like him wasn’t considered as attractive or interesting as others with more… normie preferences.

Take Asmo, who knew how to talk to people and profited from his appearance; or Beel, who knew how to keep his muscles; or Lucifer, whose presence was enough to call for everyone’s attention.

He couldn’t hold a candle to them, as much as the knowledge pained him, and he was sure you thought the same.

How else would you feel? You, a human suddenly lost in the Devildom with no way of surviving but proving your wit and your strength. You, who fought with tooth and nails to stand your ground and still acted with kindness towards him, paying attention to his rants, asking out of pure curiosity, keeping track of the passwords…

Falling for you came immediately after you became his best friend, but Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

There wasn’t a way in hell, heaven or earth where a possible reciprocation wasn’t fuelled by pity, no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise.

He closed the door of his room again, keeping everyone out, hoping that if he couldn’t see your lovesick gaze anymore, then you’d find someone fitter and more deserving.

The thought pained him to no end, but really.

Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

His chest hurt, no wonder. The shape of his clothes was imprinted on his skin, sternum and ribs aching with each breath after hours of sleeping on the edge of the bathtub. He thought he’d also twisted his wrist for a moment, but the pain just came from the weight of his torso resting on top of it for who knows how long.

Levi slowly blinked as he started to wake up, a pool of drool drying next to where his head had previously been and his mouth completely dry in return, the taste of something stale and unsavoury covering his tongue.

There was a water bottle on one of the glass tables, his headphones and a half-full glass of soda, but his DDD was on the floor with his jacket. He saw a blanket there too and your scent reached him like a siren’s song.

Groaning at the rigidness of his muscles, quickly embarrassed once more of his unfit body, he pushed himself out of the bathtub and tried not to trip on the clutter around the room. Most things were his, obviously, but he also found some of your clothes and even a pair of shoes and your backpack, covered in custom pins he’d carefully designed just for you.

The image of his door closing and leaving you out of his life resurfaced in his brain. What else could it have been if not a nightmare? While he was perfectly aware you were way out of his league, Levi was also conscious about his sin and about how weak he was under its power. There was no way he would’ve survived seeing you with someone else, let alone after confessing your love to him.

Noticing your absence with a sudden wave of nausea, he wondered for a horrible second if he’d talked during his sleep and woken you up with nonsense and rejection, but there was no way you would’ve left him for that, right? You would’ve woken him up instead, offering words of comfort and reasoning.

Him knowing that fact was the main evidence of how ridiculous the nightmare was.

How could he ever forget dating you, if just for a few seconds after waking up in pure stupor? As though your mere presence in his life didn’t change him; could he ever fool himself into thinking he could go on without the chance of being with you? His dream self may have been idiotic enough to believe so, but he knew better.

Levi would never let you go.

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Satan – He didn’t realise how deep he’d fallen

He wouldn’t describe himself as superficial.

Feeling wasn’t a foreign experience; hell, he was doomed to feel, but there was so much he could understand about emotions.

Why did there have to be so many layers?

Asmo fawned over himself, rejoicing in who he was, yet he couldn’t bring himself to show how deep his mind and heart could reach.

Diavolo, so prepared for political business, yet so unsure at matters of the heart, abandoned and lonely.

You, so obviously afraid of your new surroundings, yet unwilling to bend your knee and show weakness.

Himself, falling for you slowly without either of you realising. He cared for you with what he knew was fondness, respect and appreciation. After all, given everything you’d done for him and his family, there was no other way he could look at you.

You confessed to him one day out of the blue, hope in your eyes, and his heart skipped a bit; but what if that flutter wasn’t enough? What if he was reaching too far, anticipating a chapter that would never be written?

Over time, the warmth in his chest turned bitter and electric, not stimulating anymore, but painful.

Yet, he smiled at you.

How confusing.

What a stupid mistake he had made.

You weren’t with him when he opened his eyes, which only fuelled the anger his dream had caused. Frustration at the cycle, always returning to the comfort of his sin, and fear upon your absence.

The swaying towers of books covered the window and cast shadows where they weren’t supposed to be, taunting him with the presence of someone else just as he was coming to terms with the lack of your company. His stretched arm, searching for your touch, slowly returned to him and pulled him deeper under the covers.

He still felt the goodnight kiss you had given him hours ago lingering on his lips, but it wasn’t that what helped settle his uncontrolled mind.

No.

Satan didn’t need reflection to know how much his soul yearned for yours. Although intimidated by the intensity of it, he wasn’t afraid to show just how much he loved you. Also, he would be caught dead before rejecting an idea due to a lack of perspective. Exploring your relationship had been his favourite subject by far, after all.

He knew that, had his rejection been real, his dreams would’ve been filled with the never-ending hope in your eyes and his willingness for more instead.

What he had with you in what he knew was the undeniable reality, was what he would always want in any other.

He may not understand the strength of your love and all that came in between, but wasn’t that what made it all that exciting?

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion

[goldsainz]

❝ SO LONG, MONACO ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . charles leclerc x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . use of y/n (once, i think), cursing, a whole load of angst, charles is an asshole, rushed ending, barely proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . you love monaco, but it has run its course just like your relationship has.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i am obsessed with ttpd, i don’t care what anyone has to say, it was a masterpiece and i will not take criticism about it. this is based on so long, london i really recommend listening to this while reading, or just listening to it in general if you need a good cry. i have been writing this for months now, so i hope you guys like it and please dont mind the ending it was the best i could do 😔💙

[ word count: 3,4k ]

You walked through the streets of Monaco, mystified by how bright the city looked even in the night. The street lights were enchanting to witness, and the chatter of people made you appreciate the small country even more. So private, yet so lively, like a hidden spot you had loved so much you just had to make it your home. 

The walk to Charles’ apartment is more calming than expected, you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’ve been pulling at a thread that is almost undone. No matter how hard you tried, there was no use in pulling him tighter when he had already pulled out of the relationship.

You were, in all honesty, tired. 

You swore your back almost hurt from all the efforts you made to keep him with you. It’s like you both had settled for conformity, for the monotony of not bothering to do anything. You were together for the sole sake of how harder it would be to separate, but not because of the love you had for the other, simply because of the aftermath of breaking up after 6 years of relationship. Moving out, telling your friends and family, the whole world scrutinizing what went down when really nothing had gone down. There was nothing that could go down, to begin with. 

Your relationship had become more of a commodity, one that was draining you while your boyfriend continued his life like nothing was going on. Maybe that was your problem, you simply cared too much. 

And so you stopped trying to make him laugh. Stopped making those small efforts that had amounted to hundreds of gestures that went unnoticed by him. Maybe you were selfish for that, for wanting his undivided attention to things that weren’t that great. After all, he had his own things to wallow over, things that were simply greater than you.

You tried to blame Ferrari. Ferrari that always was the topic of conversation. “Can you believe they made pit so late?” Yes, I can. “Do you think I’m putting to much faith in the team?” Yes, you are. You don’t tell Charles all the things you should, you share his sadness and give him a shoulder to cry on, just to receive that small amount of affection. 

His sadness gives you the taste of what once was and now isn’t. You can’t find in yourself to blame him for becoming dependent on Ferrari, because haven’t you become the same way for him?

It isn’t long before your walk is over, and you have to face the moment you want to dread, but instead there is relief that surges in your heart. A feeling you resent but equally embrace. 

You step into the elevator, pressing the button for his apartment that you wonder when you decided to let everything go on for as long as it did. That is something you incriminate Charles for. Did he really think you’d be willing to stand in the rain for him forever? Eternally condemned to wallow his sadness, were you supposed to be sad for as long as he was? And for a while you did, you shared his sadness but you didn’t have much more in you to give him. There was only so much pity you could feel, so much empathy you were willing to subject yourself to. 

The elevator rings, a sign that you should get off and take whatever is yours and get away from Monaco.

You put the key in the keyhole, and enter what once was your home and now looks almost like a staged apartment, ready to be shown off and sold to the highest bidder. It feels eerie, what once was so familiar is now a distant memory you’re ready to get over.

Most of the boxes are all closed and ready to be sent away, with a few things left in shelves and drawers. You remember calling your family and asking if you could stay with them a few days, you felt ashamed at how you left everything behind just to come back to it so unexpectedly. 

“Chérie, you don’t have to leave. I can stay with Joris until you find your own place.” no more ma chérie, just chérie. It seemed you’d both unconsciously already made the graves for your relationship. 

“This is your place, Charles. I’m not going to kick you out of it.” you smoothly respond, trying to focus on taking whatever is left on the shelf by the TV. 

Your hand brushes against an old photo of the two of you. His hands around your waist, you looking up at him with a huge smile on your face, with Monaco as the landscape behind you. 

“This was our place, I don’t even—” he stops himself, like it pains him to say whatever is on his mind, resigned he sighs and changes his answer, “I might have to sell this, it’s too big for just me anyway.” 

The implication of his words would have sent you down a spiral a few months ago, now you don’t even reminisce on the what-if.

“Either way, I’ve already arranged a place to stay. I really don’t want to inconvenience you, this is your home not mine.” you say, and you watch as his jaw clenches and his eyes dim, but it is too late now to go back. You’re both too far gone. 

“Okay, then.” he sighs, and although you’ve made peace with the end of your relationship you want him to fight for you. It is his nonchalant way of going about life that makes you mad, and what sealed the fate of whatever remains of your relationship were left.

You’ve fought so hard and for so long, you want to make him feel what you felt. Retribution comes to you in his resignation, and yet it is simply not enough for your greedy, broken heart.

It pisses you off how so much of your youth he got to witness, how he got all the special moments of your life and now you cannot even recognise the girl you once were. All those dreams, all that naïveté, has long since died and is now buried in Monaco.

“It’s late and I’m really tired, so tomorrow morning I’ll have them pick up and ship off my things.” 

“Where are you staying?” he tries to be casual, tries to hide the desperation in his voice, but fails to do so because you know him too well. He fears you know him better than anyone ever has. 

“A hotel nearby,” you easily answer, 

Don’t let me go.

A beat passes, he opens his mouth and closes it shortly after, like he’s not sure what to say or how to act.

Please, don’t let me go. 

“Do you need me to take you there?”

“No, I’m okay, it’s a short walk from here.”

And so you put away the few things you were holding, brushing past him like he’s a stranger in the street. You’ve seemingly packed up your whole life in a few boxes, and you feel oddly calm about it. Hopeful about the future, all resentment you could have has turned into motivation. 

You seal the last open box, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. There are no scores to settle, no need for revenge, this chapter of your life has been sealed and you are ready to continue with whatever the story of your life has prepared for you.

“Text me when you get to the hotel, yes?” you pause at his words, and a part of you wants to curse him out for being the way he is, because despite everything he is a kind man. You just wish he could've been as kind to the old you as he is to the current you. And you wonder why you're given all this kindness, when you have both your feet out the door and every single remainder of your love has been tucked away. It is not fair, but nothing really is when it comes to love.

“Sure,” you say as you nod, a small smile gracing your face, though you're sure it looks close to a grimace. 

You walk out of the apartment, leaving your copy of the keys on the table next to the door. As it closes, you let out a sigh and go out the same you came in, calm and collected. With the broken, bloody pieces of your heart in his hands and you with the same blue heart of his you know so well.

You don’t text Charles when you make it to the hotel. 

You twist and turn in your bedsheets, not being able to sleep once again. You can't remember the last time you had a good night's sleep. And so you do what you've been doing for months, you go over every step and stone of your relationship.

Although sleep doesn’t consume you, the memories do. Those unforgiving, wretched memories about the downfall of your relationship. As you lie awake, the weight of your thoughts presses down on you, each recollection sharper and more painful than the last. 

You reminisce on the brighter days, filled with laughter and pure love, where every touch was like electricity on your skin and every word a promise of a future together. You recall all those moments you fought to make him laugh, to bring back the warmth that had once been effortless. But those bright memories are quickly overshadowed by the darker ones— the fights that grew more frequent, the silences that stretched longer, the love that slowly turned to resentment. 

Every detail is vivid in your mind— he look in his eyes as he drifted away, the chill that settled in your bones each night he didn't fall asleep beside you. You replay the conversations, the accusations, the desperate attempts to salvage whatever was left. But despite your efforts, the spirit of the relationship was long gone, leaving behind a shell of what once was.

As the memories flood back, you feel the anger and sadness welling up inside you. You gave so much of yourself, your youth, your energy, only to be left with the empty shell of a broken dream. You think about how he swore that he loved you, yet the proof was never there. 

You recall that last fight, by then the stitches of your relationship had come undone, the fabric of your shared experience torn beyond repair. There was nothing left to cling onto, nothing more than your delusion and the memories you held close to your heart. 

“Mon amour, why did you stay awake? You know how long I take at the factory.” he whispers, almost cooing at you but also filled with exhaustion. Like you being awake is another burden you're placing on him, now that he has to deal with your awakened mind. 

“Couldn’t fall asleep, I guess.” you answer, playing with the ends of your hair, not daring to look at him. 

You watch as he places his stuff on the ground, taking off his shirt and entering the bathroom to wash his face and prepare for sleep. It is quite a shame you have no intentions of sleeping, or to let the misery you're living through go on.

“I’ll join you in just a moment,” he calls out from the bathroom, his voice muffled from the ajar door between you.

“Okay,” is all you come up with, all you can muster to respond.

The silence in the apartment grew heavy. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to echo through the room, each second stretching out into eternity. 

As you listened to the sound of water running, you traced patterns on the bedsheets with trembling hands. You couldn’t shake the feeling of suffocation, of being trapped in a life that wasn’t quite yours. The dreams you once nurtured seemed distant, obscured by the everyday struggles and compromises.

When Charles emerged from the bathroom, the lines of fatigue etched deeper into his face. His eyes met yours briefly before he turned away, pulling a worn t-shirt and slipping under the covers beside her. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, yet you could see the coldness that he seemed to reserve especially for you. He made no effort to kiss you, to hold you, those miniscule actions were like finding gold nowadays.

It was now or never, you had decided. You had gained courage all day to finally speak your mind, the least he could do is listen and try to fight for you. For the remains of your love that hadn’t yet dusted away.

“You know,” you begin tentatively, your voice almost shaky with emotion, “it feels like we’re drifting apart. I miss us, Charles.”

He turned to you sharply, eyes flashing with something like shock and annoyance. “I’m tired, Y/N. Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”

“But we never talk about it!” you exclaimed, frustration boiling over. “Every day, it’s the same thing. You come home late, exhausted, and we pretend everything’s okay. But it's not okay! It hasn’t been for a long time, and I need more than this.”

He sighs heavily, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Sure you are,” you retort back, voice tinged with bitterness. You knew he would dismiss your feelings, but it still stung.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m always second, Charles.” you retort, “I stay awake each night wondering if you still care, if there is even some part of you that misses me like I miss you.”

“You always find something to complain about, don’t you?” he turns to you with his eyes narrowed, “You know how much I’m dealing with Ferrari, I thought you’d have some empathy for me, at least.”

“I’m not complaining, Charles. I’m trying to talk to you!” your frustration has now reached its peak, “I miss us. I miss the days when we actually talked, when you actually listened.”

“I’m exhausted,” he says, ignoring your words once more. “Do you think this lifestyle pays for itself? Because, news flash, it doesn’t. You signed up for this, don’t put this on me now.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” you ask, resigned to your situation and the emotions that have overtaken you, “You're never here, Charles. I feel like I’m living with a stranger instead of the man I fell in love with.”

“Well, maybe if you didn't make everything so difficult,” he snapped, his patience wearing thin. He doesn't dare to look at you, he can't bear to see the expression on your face.

You feel tears stinging in your eyes, a mix of anger and hurt washing over you. “I’m not making things difficult. I’m asking for us to work on our relationship, to make time for each other.”

“I don’t have time,” Charles shot back, his voice cold and distant. “This is the life we have now. Deal with it.”

“Is this really what you want?” you demand, your voice rising. “A relationship where we just coexist, where we’re barely holding on?”

He turns away from you again, his silence cuts deeper than any words ever could. You feel the despair, the realizations sinking in that your relationship might be beyond repair.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking with emotion.

“Then what do you expect me to do?” he retorted, his frustration matching yours.

“I expect you to fight for us, Charles!” you exclaimed, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I expect you to care enough to try.”

He doesn’t respond, the silence a stark reminder of how far you had both drifted apart. You wiped your tears away, feeling the weight of your crumbling relationship pressing down on your chest.

“If you can’t even talk to me, then maybe we’re already done.” you say quietly, the finality of your words hanging in the air.

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t reach out to you. You turned away from him, curling up on your side of the bed, feeling the emptiness of your once vibrant love surrounding you. As you stared into the darkness, you wondered if you had reached the end, if this was all the closure you would get.

As you laid there, enveloped in the silence that now seemed thicker than ever, you realised that something inside you had shifted irreversibly. The pain of his indifference cut deep, but so did the clarity that you couldn’t continue living forever like this, forever under the blue of his days.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, you couldn’t bear it any longer. With a shaky breath, you gathered your resolve and spoke softly into the darkness, voice trembling with both sadness and determination.

“I think… I need some time,” you began, your words tentative yet resolute. “Time to figure out what I want and what’s best for me.”

He turned to you then, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and resignation. “What are you saying?”

You struggled to find the right words. “I’m saying… I’m saying that I’m done, Charles. I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not. I deserve more than this.” 

His expression hardened, a flicker of frustrations crossing his face. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“I’m not giving up,” you shot back, “I’ve been fighting for us for so long, but you… you're not even here, I can’t keep begging for your attention, for your love.”

Charles doesn't respond immediately, his silence echoing loudly in the room. You felt a wave of sorrow wash over you as you realized that your love had turned into a battlefield of neglect and misunderstanding.

“I thought we could fix this,” he finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe we could have,” your heart breaks with every word you utter. “But it’s too late now, I’m exhausted, Charles. I’m exhausted from trying to pretend like you care and for trying to fix something beyond repair.”

He sits up at your words, finally looking at you, the weight of your failed relationship heavy in his eyes. “I’m sorry, mon ange. I never meant for it to end like this.”

“Neither did I,” you replied softly, “But I can’t keep living like this. I deserve happiness. We both do.” he reached out to touch your hand, but you gently pulled away, the gesture feeling hollow now.

You sat there in silence, you knew that walking away would be the hardest thing you had ever done, but you also knew it was the only way forward.

Without another word, you stood up from the bed. Looking at him, the man you loved with all your heart but who had drifted away from you.

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” you tell Charles, and he doesn’t fight you, just wordlessly nods and longingly looks at you as you step away and into your living room.

You stood at the window of the hotel room, staring out at the city that had been your home for so long. The cobblestone streets, the azure waters, and the gentle hum of luxury. This place, once your sanctuary, now felt like a prison of memories that had soured with time. A reminder of a love that couldn't withstand the weight of reality.

Outside, the familiar sights and sounds of Monaco stirred memories that tugged at your heart— lazy afternoons by the beach, candlelit dinners overlooking the harbour, stolen kisses beneath the starlit sky.

But today, as the plane ticket lay on the table beside your suitcase, you knew it was time to leave Monaco behind. Despite the love you once felt for this place, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest, the realisation that your time here had run its course.

As you walked out of the hotel and down the winding cobblestone streets towards the waiting car you had called, you allowed a tear to trickle down your cheek because despite everything you really fucking loved Monaco. For so, so long.

But you’ll find somewhere new.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: Mattheo's breakup leaves you heartbroken, shattered, you know his true intentions were far from what they seemed.

Warnings: angst, fluff

Words:1k

Sunshine warmed my face as I settled into the comfortable swing on our back patio, a contented sigh escaping my lips. It had been a perfect week. Mattheo had finally confessed his love, the words erasing months of unspoken feelings. Just as I was lost in a daydream fueled by newfound happiness, a shadow fell over me.

"Hey, Mattheo," I chirped, anticipation bubbling in my chest.

"I came to tell you this is over." His words hung heavy in the air, shattering the idyllic moment into a million pieces.

I stared at him, open-mouthed. Just last week, his eyes had held the promise of forever. Now, they were cold and indifferent.

"What?" I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.

"You heard me," he said flatly, as if breaking up with me was as trivial as ordering a coffee. "We were fun, but now I'm bored. So, take a hint and accept it Have some dignity."

He didn't even wait for a response, turning on his heel and walking away with an air of casual cruelty. I sat there, frozen in place, the swing creaking eerily in the sudden silence. The warmth of the sun felt mocking, the scent of roses acrid.

Mattheo's "breakup" was a cruel joke. One day declarations of forever, the next, a dismissal delivered with the coldness of day-old coffee. Since then, he'd morphed back into his old self – a walking scandal magnet.

He reveled in making sure I witnessed his conquests: lingering kisses with Ravenclaw girls, neck nuzzles from Hufflepuffs. Whispers swirled of a Slytherin threesome – all delivered with the precision of a well-placed punch.

I had no one to confide in. Mattheo wasn't just my boyfriend, but he was the only connection I had. The only person I truly felt comfortable with. And love. There, I said it. Not ashamed .

Did Mattheo love me? You'd probably laugh in my face. But I knew him better than anyone.

My Mattheo, he only broke his favorite toys, the ones he swore he'd keep forever. He smashed them, discarded them, a twisted form of affection. That's what all this was – a twisted, public display of… something.

Love wasn't a term Mattheo Riddle would be caught dead using. But this elaborate charade, this self-destruction fueled by a silent pain I recognized all too well – that was his way of showing he cared. In his own messed-up way, Mattheo Riddle loves me, or at least, he used to.

He saw forever so he smashed it up.

The memory of Mattheo announcing me as his "girl" still brought a bittersweet smile to my lips. Back then, he was undeniably smitten. His friends teased him mercilessly, but he'd simply shrug, his eyes locked on mine, He'd lean in, his voice a husky murmur, "Nothing else matters, just you."

Mattheo, however, was a stranger to love. Affection wasn't a language spoken in his household, something I vowed to keep buried deep. So when I confessed my love, his mumbled response, rushed and panicked, was the first clue to the impending storm.

He ran. It was what he did best, fleeing from anything that threatened to crack the carefully constructed facade. And me? I was left in the wreckage of the castle he'd built and then demolished.

But our connection, it ran deeper than anyone knew. I'd glimpsed a vulnerability in him hidden from the world, a tenderness he reserved only for me.

Now, as I watched him flaunt his supposed conquests, a smirk played on my lips. He cursed under his breath ; I saw through the act. He knew I wasn't fooled by his theatrics. He might be able to fool everyone else, but not me.

This charade wouldn't last forever. Once I picked up the pieces, once I was whole again, he'd realize what he'd lost. The girl who saw him, the girl who loved the broken parts he kept hidden, the girl who held the key to a love he both craved and feared.

So today I was Ignoring the seedy stares in Knockturn Alley, I marched towards the dingy bar Mattheo frequented.

There he was, slumped over a counter, a half-empty bottle of something potent in front of him. Before he could down another shot, I snatched the glass from his hand.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he slurred, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"This place is dangerous," He said, "You shouldn't be here."

"So are you,"I say.

He mumbled something about me not understanding, but his defiance seemed hollow. Outside, the cool night air slapped him awake a bit.

"Look, can you give us a minute please ?" I pleaded to Theo , he was the one who told me about this mess and get me there , he nodded in understanding.

Leading Matteo to a dimly lit alley behind the bar, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. He sank down onto the cobblestones, avoiding my gaze. "Why did you come?" .

"Because I care about you," I said simply.

He scoffed. "You don't understand."

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Actually, the problem is I do understand too well. If I hadn't, I would have walked away after you broke things off. But I know you better than that, Mattheo."

His eyes flickered up to meet mine, a flicker of vulnerability replacing the drunken bravado.

"You're better off without me," he muttered, pushing his hair back.

"No," I said, taking his hand. "And I don't care. I knew what I was getting into. This is my choice, Mattheo. I choose you, with all your crazy antics and trouble. I'm not trying to change you – I love you just the way you are, And you Mattheo Riddle. You deserve that love."

The words hung heavy in the air. He stared at me, stunned. "And I promise," I continued, "we can take things slow. If you do love me, I'm willing to—"

He cut me off, his voice rough with emotion. "Dammit, Y/N, I love you more than anything in this world. That scares the living hell out of me."

Before I could respond, he pulled me into a kiss. It was desperate, hungry, as if he'd been holding himself back for far too long. My heart hammered against my ribs as I kissed him back, the alley momentarily fading away.

When we finally broke apart, his eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and relief. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, leaning his forehead against mine.

I nodded, gently pushing his hair back. "I know. Just promise me you won't do that again. I love you, but it hurt."

"Never again," he promised, his voice thick with sincerity.

This time, it was my turn to initiate the kiss. It was slower, softer, filled with a new understanding. As we pulled away, breathless, he mumbled, "I never did anything with those girls."

A playful smile crept onto my face. "Oh, believe me, I know. if you did, you wouldn't have a pretty face left."

With a mock grimace, he pulled me closer. "Now come on," i said, "let's get out of here before your little knight in shining armor gets impatient with us."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[lyxandria]

daddy - diluc x f!reader

word count: 1748 cw: nsfw- mdni; smut; piv; multiple orgasms; missionary; mating press; overstimulation; size kink; begging; breeding kink; creampie; no protection used/condom fell off; talk of pregnancy; daddy kink; praise kink (reader referred to as "good girl"); female-bodied reader.

you couldn't believe this was really happening. a casual night of hanging out, sharing take-out and watching a movie with your longtime friend – your very cute friend whom you had just a mild crush on – turned into him confessing his attraction to you after an accidental kiss. 

one kiss led to another that led to more that led to you falling onto his bed.

naked.

your body was on fire as he disrobed in front of you. his cock sprang to attention; already hard, his length nearly reached his belly button.

unable to take your eyes off him – or rather, his thick, throbbing cock – your core flooded with heat, arousal quickly dampening your panties as you imagined his cock pounding your pussy.

“there's no going back if we do this," he said, giving you one last, final out as his bare body hovered over yours, the tip of his cock pressing against your thigh.

“we can still be friends,” you said, foolishly hopeful, not wanting to lose one of your closest friends. perhaps even best friend.  

“friends who screw each other?” he asked, smirking when you nodded in agreement.

neither of you were looking for anything serious – life was busy with new jobs and life just starting out, and neither of you had the time or energy to properly cultivate a healthy, long-term relationship. but sometimes, you had an itch that needed to be scratched, one that you needed help reaching. 

and diluc wanted to be the one to scratch that itch for you.

“yes,” you moaned loudly as he sunk his thick cock slowly inside you, changing the nature of your friendship forever.

****

this arrangement went on for some time. you had your regular dates as well as those times when one was feeling particularly needy.

tonight was one of those needy nights.

“i need to see you.” desperation was thick in diluc’s voice as he practically begged you to come by and relieve him.

you quickly changed into a dress – something simple and cute with easy access – and made your way to his place.

he was on you as soon as you walked through the door, like a tiger pouncing on a rabbit, pushing you roughly against the wall. his lips immediately on yours, his tongue invaded your warm mouth, a tease of things to come.

“i missed you,” he whispered between sloppy kisses, his cock so hard you could feel the bulge through his pants.

“i need you," he pleaded, his voice ragged, reeking of desperation. diluc pressed his body against yours, his tall frame towering over yours, rubbing his hips against yours.

“my hand just doesn't feel as good as your pussy.”

heat rose to your cheeks, arousal dripping down your leg at the thought of him pleasuring himself while thinking of you. you needed him, too. desperately.

he guided you to the large bed – one that had been witness to numerous lovemaking sessions – disrobing each other on the way there. he pushed you down on the bed; falling on your back, he climbed onto the bed after you. he sat on his knees before your naked body and took a minute to enjoy the view of your beautiful bare body spread out before him. his eyes lingered on your curves as his gaze roved over your body – a feast for a starving man. he placed both his large hands on your thighs and easily spread your legs, your pussy now on display for his eyes only.

he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. dipping his fingers along your entrance, he collected some of your slick and coated his length in it before sliding on the condom. only then did he climb on top of you and rub the tip of his thick hard cock along your soaked slit.

he gazed into your eyes as he began to sink inside you, inch by painfully slow inch. diluc, the sweetheart that he was, never wanted to hurt you and made sure to ease his thick cock into you.

despite how many times diluc had fucked you, you always felt a bit of a thrill when you saw his big, beautiful cock sliding into your pussy. no matter how many times he had fucked you, you were still as tight as the first time. 

his cock was long and thick and magnificent; it was the kind of cock that could split your body in half if he wanted to and destroy you so badly that you were left begging for more.

“so tight,” he groaned as he took his time stretching your walls, giving you time to adjust to his massive size. you dragged your hands down his back, fingers digging into the soft supple skin on his ass, pulling him closer to you, deeper inside you. your moans mingled, your bodies becoming one as he bottomed out, the feeling of fullness always overwhelming at first.

“good girl,” he praised, his balls slapping your ass, the sounds a lewd call to how deep his cock was inside you.  you glanced down to where your bodies were joined; a sense of pride filled your heart knowing you fit his entire thick length inside your pussy. 

“i needed this,” he whispered, burying his head on your shoulders waiting for you to acclimate to his large size. untying his ponytail, his hair tumbled down his shoulders, allowing you to weave your fingers through the long, red strands.

you needed this, too. without waiting, you lifted your hips, your walls squeezing his length, silently inviting him to fuck you. 

he groaned, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down on your delicate skin. “i can't promise I'll be gentle tonight,” he warned, his biting kiss stinging with pain as his teeth sunk into your skin. 

diluc was usually a gentle lover, preferring soft sex over rough. but every so often, he needed to fuck you hard and rail you. he would always warn you when he was in one of those moods, and you were always more than happy to spread your legs wider for him on those occasions.

if anything, you had slowly begun to become addicted to being fucked hard and rough, but you were always too shy to say anything. naturally, when he said this to you tonight, your body buzzed with excitement. 

you kissed him while your pussy clamped down on his hard cock, squeezing his shaft. he broke the kiss, caging you between his arms as he pulled his cock out, leaving just the tip inside, and snapped his hips against yours, drilling his cock deep inside. 

he grunted loudly as he roughly slammed his cock inside, treating your pussy like his own personal fleshlight. your body was a raging fire, the waves of pleasure ready to crash at any moment.

“fuck,” he muttered, stilling his thrusts, the peak of your pleasure slipping from your reach.

“why'd you stop?” you whimpered, digging your fingers in his back, trying to keep his cock inside you.

he looked down at your leg; your eyes followed his, spotting the problem stuck to your thigh.

the condom fell off…

when he began to pull out, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock slowly sinking back inside. “don't you dare pull out.” your pussy squeezed his shaft, not letting go.

“what if i–”

you knew what he was going to say – what if i impregnate you. with the amount of sex you've had recently, the thought had crossed your mind a time or two – no form of protection was 100%. but, if you were completely honest with yourself, whenever the possibility crossed your mind, the idea of diluc filled you so much, your belly swelled with his child…

it brought a smile to your face.

you bit your lip, nervous to speak these feelings aloud. “it's okay… i want to feel you when you –”

he covered your mouth with his just as he drilled his cock into you, the pain delicious as he fucked you so hard you thought your body would break in half.

his thrusts were erratic and wild, like an animal in heat.  it felt amazing to be fucked raw, no condom to dull the sensations. it was a feeling you knew you'd quickly become addicted to, maybe even already addicted.

“daddy loves you," he moaned, his pace increasing as he railed you, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

you were close to losing it when you heard him call himself daddy. was this a new kink you didn't even know you had? was he even aware of what he was saying? it didn't really matter one way or another as your core flooded, creaming on his cock, your orgasm blowing your mind, leaving you trembling with aftershocks.

“tell me you want this," he groaned as he lifted your legs, guiding your ankles over his shoulders. the new position allowed him to penetrate you deeper, his thrusts overstimulating, hitting harder as he broke your limp body in half.

“i, ahh…want this,” you managed to get out, your voice a pathetic, breathless whimper, your body engulfed in the waves of pleasure. your breasts bounced vigorously with each thrust; if his goal was to destroy you, he was succeeding.

“you like this, don't you?” he watched, pleased, as you came undone once more, your hands tugging on his hair as rapture rolled through your body, your mind blank and cock-drunk unable to express a single thought.

“daddy's gonna fuck a baby inside ya,” he grunted, shoving his cock in so deep, kissing your cervix, his seed spilling inside your womb painting your walls white.

“such a good girl. take every last drop from daddy,” he coaxed gently as he stayed inside you, allowing you to squeeze his cock, milking his balls of everything he had. your body quivered; hearing him call himself that again sent you spiraling over the edge once more. you still didn't know what it was – just a kink or a real desire to be bred – but whichever it was, you were already addicted.

he kept his cock in you, plugging your pussy, helping ensure not a single drop was wasted. your body writhed under his, the overstimulation unreal. his cock began to spasm, a sign he was getting hard again. you bucked your hips up, eager for daddy to fuck you again and fill you with his seed, only this time harder and faster.

[heliads]

boy; girl; dragon

Hiccup only needs two things. He knows he can rely on both forever.

masterlist

There is a boy, and he has a girl. And also a dragon. 

The order matters. He had the girl first, even if he didn’t know it yet. She didn’t say a word to him about the feeling beating against the bars of her ribs like a dove in a cage, not until he did first. The dragon helped things along, surprisingly. Usually, fire-breathing reptiles can only complicate a situation, but when two young people are soaring through the sky with only the billowing light of the sun and stars around them to bear witness to the truths they have to tell, secrets end up not so secret anymore. Hiccup told you he loved you. You said the same.

The dragon watched, and listened, and waited. It, of course, had known the whole time. Almost everyone did. Tact is a rare occurrence among the Vikings, but the people of Berk could tell that interference in the story of you and him, him and you, would not bode well. You and Hiccup were something different, something special. You didn’t need anyone but each other. And the dragon.

Loving a Viking is dangerous. Loving Hiccup was so far along the line of adventure and risk that even your first kiss felt like throwing off your armor to embrace a knife in your chest. If this was pain, though, it was the loveliest anguish you had ever experienced in your entire life. Falling in love with Hiccup was brilliant, like dragonfire; exhilarating, like tumbling in freefall; unfailing, like the son of a chieftain knowing that he would send his entire village to keep you safe from harm or die trying. Staying in love with him was soft torchlight, quiet mornings, wispy clouds around your temples when he took you up to see the stars. Easy. Perfect. And yours, all yours.

The two of you are together now, sitting side by side on the edge of a cliff. Most of Berk is rocky with occasional splashes of slate blue or chestnut wood to break up the monotonous grey, but tenacious patches of grass have managed to crawl up to the top of the cliffside here, providing you with a threadbare emerald blanket on which you can rest your legs.

A cool wind whistles through the air, toying with your hair and clothes before plunging off the edge of the rock face. You watch it go, taking a few errant leaves with it, and consider the drop down to the sea below you.

“If I fell right now,” you say to Hiccup, “off the side, you would catch me.”

“I would catch you,” he affirms. “Dragon or no dragon.”

“What if I fell too fast and you couldn’t reach me in time?” You ask.

He takes your hand, voice soft and gentle in the early morning. You’ve heard him louder and more assertive when directing the villagers, but you like him best like this, when Hiccup’s peace is only ever meant for you. There is an entirely different young man who exists only when he’s alone with you, a Hiccup that no one will ever know as well as you do. It is a delight to keep the secret of this second, inner boy. It’s a treasure that will only ever be claimed by you, a sparkling spread of gold and jewels captive to one person and one person alone. Not even blood relations can claim that sort of glory.

“There is nowhere you could go that I would not follow,” Hiccup asserts. “Not off the cliff. Not into the sky. I would follow you past the sun, or a hundred thousand lengths in the sea. I would search the world to find you, if I had to, and I would bring you back with me. Always. Do you believe me?”

“I do,” you whisper. “Always.”

“Always,” he repeats, and presses a kiss to your temple.

This is loving Hiccup, then. Always. Always the guarantee of a heart beating in tandem with yours. Always the confidence that you will not be alone in this world of yours, even as it seems to stretch out forever, even as it looms to hide a hundred friends or a thousand enemies. If the odds are with you or against you, you will have Hiccup to guide you through the trials and tribulations of this life of yours. It is written in the stars, and it is sworn by the one you love. No promise could be greater.

The two of you will descend into legend, into myth, into folklore. Never in the world have any two people loved each other more, and never will they again. Every young pair thinks that they could have this, a love to last a lifetime, but you and Hiccup will do them one better and last a thousand more. You could love him in every universe, every incarnation of yourselves, and Hiccup has already promised to be by your side no matter who you two were. Gods, maybe. Heroes or villains. Ordinary lives or glorious ones. All of them will feature the two of you together. Always.

A shadow briefly blots out the sun overhead, a pair of jet-black wings soaring through the early morning skies. As it loops and wheels towards the two of you, its shade flickers across the trees, dappling them with night’s fury even as the sun climbs higher into the sky. It occurs to you that you’d like every day to start and end like this one, for each one of your hours to be filled with this sort of blissful joy. You don’t need riches, you don’t need a legacy. All you need is right here before you. A boy and a girl. And also a dragon.

disney tag list: @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @avadakadabra93

also tagging @hope92100 bc HICCUP

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk