#friendship day messages in english | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanteguccir · 10 months ago

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── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

WARNING: Crying, comparison, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

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hyunjinners · 12 days ago

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✧:･ﾟHeartache → Stray Kids x reader ˚₊· ꒰🍃꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊ during an argument, they raise their voice at you, uttering hurtful words.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊ maknae line! x fem! reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊ discussion, angst, established relationship.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊ shouting, insults, fights, anxiety, insecurities (on both sides). Any scenarios, names and groups mentioned are pure fiction! Similarities to real events are purely coincidental. × In some scenarios not everyone is an idol. ×

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊ 2,4k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊ I finally got the inspiration to release the second part of Runaway! If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you go there first :) English is not my first language! I apologize in advance for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. Enjoy reading! ^-^

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆¡!

Jisung has always been in love with you. You’ve known each other since high school and have always had a strong friendship, never caring about unpleasant comments questioning the possibility of a friendship between a man and a woman. Consequently, over time, he fell in love with you more and more each day he spent by your side, but he never confessed, and you never showed that you felt the same because you wanted to hide it at all costs. Jisung was always very popular because of his talents, so you never thought you deserved to date someone as amazing as him.

Time passed, you were both adults, and Jisung ended up debuting as an idol. Even after so many years, he never had the courage to tell you how he felt, so he just suppressed his feelings. After a long time, he got involved with an idol he met during his trainee days. You didn’t know this, as he couldn’t reveal it to the media, but even when he had the opportunity to tell you, he couldn’t muster the courage. Perhaps his deepest feelings held him back.

You were at Jisung's dorm for a movie marathon, taking advantage of his day off. He got up to go to the bathroom, leaving you to choose what you were going to watch. Jisung's phone, which was beside you on the couch, was vibrating desperately. You were never intrusive, but Jisung had never stopped you from touching his things. Thinking it might be one of the boys or even Jisung's staff wanting to warn him about something, you picked up his phone and checked his notifications.

The contact of a woman, with a heart emoji next to her name, lit up the phone screen, with several messages saying she missed him and that she would visit Jisung in his dorm later. You knew you had no right to meddle in Jisung's life, but the fact that he had hidden this from you, even though you were supposedly someone he trusted, hurt you deeply. When he returned, he was confused by the sad expression on your face. “What happened, little one? Are you okay?” He was utterly confused until he noticed his phone in your hands. His expression shifted from concern to irritation in a matter of seconds. “What were you doing?”

“When were you going to tell me, Jisung? Why... I don’t understand. Are you with someone? Why didn’t you tell me? Since when have you become so cowardly as to forget your trust in me?” At this point, you were both standing, staring at each other, your upset expressions obvious. “And since when do I have to give you any explanations, huh?” He didn’t know why he was so angry, but his confused feelings were preventing him from being clear at this moment. “WE’RE FRIENDS, JISUNG! I’m not just anyone you can simply ignore. I care about you too, you idiot.” Despite your raised tone fueled by anger, you tried to explain your feelings, but Jisung just couldn’t hear you at that moment.

“MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T ACTING LIKE A FANATIC, I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU!” He exploded, gesturing wildly in complete desperation.

Silence. Those three seconds of silence felt like three hours. This chilling silence was broken by your faint sniffles. You raised your hands to hide your tears. Turning away from him, Jisung could tell he felt shattered inside at that moment. Your tears brought him back to his cruel current reality. “Fanatic? I... I’m not a fan of yours, Jisung. To be honest, now I’m just an idiot who trusted you.”

You didn’t bother to grab your jacket; you just ran to the door. As you opened it, you bumped into Jisung's girlfriend. He tried to run after you, but it was already too late. Now, all he could do was cry—not just because of the argument but because the arms that comforted him weren’t the ones he wanted.

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗¡!

You had been in a relationship for a little over three years. After Felix proposed to you, you both moved to Busan so you could settle into a calm life before getting married. He was a kindergarten teacher, and you opened a small café near the house you were finishing paying off together. You were the typical cute couple, never having serious fights and always being very happy with each other. Even though the life you both dreamed of was almost finally stable and fulfilled, Felix's family didn’t accept the life he was living. Felix was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, so his family expected him to live like an heir prince; however, he chose to live a quiet life with you, which was clearly reason enough for his family to dislike you.

With only a few months left until the wedding, Felix’s father was making his life a living hell, doing everything he could to make Felix give up on you. For this reason, Felix had been depressed for several days. You didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t want to tell you so you wouldn’t get upset, which left you increasingly worried about his condition. He wasn’t eating properly, woke up many times in the middle of the night, and always got startled when the phone or the doorbell rang.

During a walk you took on weekends, throughout the entire route, you noticed he was hyperventilating, and every time you asked him about it, he would just force a smile and say it was nothing. When you were on the corner heading back home, you finally mustered the courage to question him. “Felix… please, don’t lie to me.” You grabbed his arm, making him stop. He looked back at you, his expression completely exhausted. “Lie about what? I already told you it’s nothing. Please, leave me alone.”

His tone wasn’t angry—it was more tired. He didn’t want to be so rude, but the pressure his father was putting on him had really messed with his mental health. He freed himself from your weak grip, quickly walking home.

After you entered your small and cozy living room, while Felix was taking off his jacket, you stopped in front of him in another attempt to make him talk.

“Don’t you trust me? Felix, I’m not here to judge you. I’m really, sincerely worried about you.”

He just ignored your desperation, going upstairs to the bathroom. You followed him without a second thought, determined to make him speak. “Love, you can count on me! I—”

“COULD YOU PLEASE STOP?! Please, I’m begging you, let me breathe! Just for a moment.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, making you stop halfway up. You were startled by the look Felix gave you. He had never, ever, yelled at you. You weren’t angry with him, but it did affect you in some way. Before you could say anything else, you just apologized, walking past him and locking yourself in the bedroom.

He immediately rushed to the bedroom door as soon as you entered, his hand hovering over it, wondering if he should knock or not. He rested his forehead right there, finally allowing himself to cry after holding back for days. He really needed this relationship to work.

He couldn’t live without you.

𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍¡!

Seungmin was the ideal partner from your point of view. He was a surgeon and heir to a hospital franchise, and you were a dermatologist from a family of politicians. People always had high expectations of your relationship: from your family and friends to the media, which saw you as a reference. Seungmin wasn’t exactly the temperamental type of man; to be honest, he always preferred to withdraw from problems until things calmed down so he could resolve the situation clearly and organized. However, the course of the days was draining all his patience and usual calm. The hospital was chaotic, and Seungmin’s father was dumping all his frustrations on his son, leaving him stressed.

Your father met with you earlier during a lunch that was apparently a family gathering but turned out to be another ploy for his threats. There were some problems happening in politics, so he needed some distraction for his troubles, and obviously, your marriage would be the perfect target. He wanted you to announce a pregnancy as soon as possible so that the media could focus on you, giving him time to sweep everything under the rug. You didn’t give your father an answer, saying you would think about it. Seungmin was clearly irritated with him but said nothing.

At this moment, you were lying on your bed, finishing reading your book while waiting for Seungmin to finish changing after taking a long hot shower in an attempt to calm himself down… which didn’t exactly work. He sits next to you, so you close your book, looking into his tired and irritated eyes. “babe…”

“Are you really going to keep going with this?” Seungmin interrupts you, his expression neutral. However, behind his eyes, there’s a clear flame of disappointment and a bit of anger. Not at you, but at this moment, he didn’t care to distinguish where it came from. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You no longer live for yourself. Are you really going to keep doing your father’s will?”

“Seungmin, he just wants what’s best for both of us-”

“HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU! He never cared and won’t in the future. You’re just a means for him to get rid of the media. Are you really that naïve?”

You look at him dumbfounded, feeling not just sadness but pure shock. Deep down, you knew he was right, but his bluntness truly shook you. You don’t hide your tears but say nothing. You just get up, leaving to God knows where, leaving him behind with a heavy heart. “I’m sorry…”

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍¡!

You and Jeongin had been trainees for just over a year. You both started around the same time, so you were relatively close… or almost that. For some unknown reason, Jeongin decided that he would hate you to death. From the first time you performed together, he would look you up and down as if he didn’t want you to breathe in the same space as him. What you didn’t know was that Jeongin was hopelessly in love with you, but since this relationship would never be possible if it depended on the company, he masked his feelings with anger, so you wouldn’t get close to him in any way and make the situation worse for him.

JYP prepared a project, a program aimed at presenting the two groups that would debut: the boy group Stray Kids and the girl group M4ya, the group you were part of. During one of the stages, the proposal was to unite the units of each group, with the objective of exploring their talents. As the main vocal of M4ya, you ended up getting the project alongside Seungmin and Jeongin. In the beginning, you were mostly nervous because you never understood his behavior and were afraid you would end up fighting. You trained together for hours, adjusting your vocals while giving and receiving tips from each other.

It was a very important project, since it would be the first time you were doing something independently, without the help of vocal teachers, just relying on your learned abilities. Seungmin was being a great help to you, since, as you were nervous, your voice wasn’t coming out the way you wanted. Maybe a little insecurity was also clouding your mind, so Seungmin offered to help. At the end of the recordings, you politely bowed, thanking him for his help and effort. When Seungmin left, leaving just you and Jeongin, he rolled his eyes at you while speaking calmly, “It doesn’t surprise me that your voice was failing so much. You look like a chicken in the butcher shop before being sold, you’re shaking so much.” You stared at him, this time tired of his teasing.

“You know, I’ve really been ignoring your behavior the whole time I’ve known you, but I would like to know why you’re like this. I never did anything to you!”

“So you think you’re a saint?” He let out a small, disdainful laugh. “No wonder you’re so snobby.”

“Then tell me, Jeongin! WHY? Why do I deserve so much criticism?” He massaged his temples, his voice was irritated at that moment. “WHY CAN’T YOU STOP BEING SO INSECURE?! So, you need that much validation, huh? Spare me.” He laughed, turning his back while fixing his bag, ready to go to the dorm. However, not long after, he stood frozen in place upon hearing your sniffles. You ran your hand over your face, hiding it from Jeongin. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, but you were too sensitive at that moment.

“You know, Jeongin, I shouldn’t justify myself to you, but I’ve always tried my best to get here, and all I hear in return for my effort is criticism after criticism. So, yes, maybe I am a little insecure girl who doesn’t know where to go without validation, just like you said. Just don’t come any closer, please. Leave me alone.” He was shocked, not having processed the situation. He never thought it could come to this point, and now he was agonizing with hatred, surprisingly, for himself. “I messed up so much now.” He crouched on the floor, running his hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to contain his tears of pure frustration.

ε ї з — like × reblog! by: @hyunjinners ❜ɞ

ε ї з — taglist: @oc3anfloor @apple-kiwi

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eu-nicola · 3 months ago

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via part 1

summary: In the dazzling world of high society, you are a young woman who lives an apparently perfect relationship with the pilot Pierre Gasly. However, when you discover that your boyfriend of years Pierre was unfaithful to you with one of your best friends you decide to walk away and what better idea than a vacation in the break of Formula 1 in Italy with one of your friends, Charles.

warnings: tension, infidelity

word counter: 8718

author's note: english is not my first language, btw i'm writing the third part of Max's story

You had grown up with them, in those endless summers in the south of France, where the sun seemed brighter and the air was filled with laughter and promises that seemed eternal. Pierre and Charles were like brothers to you, always there, on days of adventure and days of calm. All of your families knew each other well, and every year the summers brought you together in the same coastal corner. Sometimes, Camille would arrive, that inseparable friend with whom you shared secrets and dreams.

Pierre was the center of calm in the group; observant, with an easy laugh and a confidence that inspired trust. He was the boy who always had a logical answer to every problem and calm advice for each of you. You got used to feeling safe when he was around, to trusting in his loyalty and relying on that serenity he conveyed. He had dreamed of being a driver since he was little, and his tenacity in reaching Formula 1 did not surprise anyone; you always knew that he had the discipline necessary to go far.

Charles, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy, the first to jump into any challenge, no matter how reckless or absurd it seemed. Always on the edge, he was the friend who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, but also the one who could drive you crazy with his impulses and ideas. But that intensity of his, that boundless passion, was also what made him unique. He and Pierre shared the same dream, and although their personalities were opposite, they were both united by that common goal, by that desire for speed that made them talk about races all the time.

Over the years, you witnessed their triumphs and falls. Sometimes, childhood summers seemed like a distant dream; the pressure, the training, and the anxieties of the future began to infiltrate those vacations that used to be just fun. But the friendship between you remained solid. Although life took you on different paths, the connections remained strong, and there was always a message or a call to remind you that they were there.

Pierre had been more than a friend in the last few years, and that spark that had emerged sometime in their teens had grown into something more solid and deeper. The shared laughter and knowing glances had transformed into a relationship in which both found refuge amidst the demands of their lives.

You remember how it all began, almost without realizing it, like a gentle current in the sea that slowly drags you along until you are completely immersed. For years he had been your friend, your confidant; the boy who was always there. But, at some point, something in him changed, or maybe it was you who had changed.

It had started on a spring afternoon in Monaco, when both of you attended a Formula 1 event. You clearly remember what he looked like: hair messy from the wind and an expression of excitement at seeing the drivers gathered together, his idols. That afternoon you noticed how good he looked, how much he had grown and how much he meant to you. A mix of emotions washed over you, and when Pierre looked at you, holding your gaze a little longer than usual, you felt something in the air, something you hadn't felt before. And in that moment, your relationship changed.

The days that followed were filled with small details, knowing glances, and words that seemed to contain hidden meanings. Sometimes, a simple shared laugh or a silence at his side made you feel something different. Pierre began to appear in your thoughts at all hours, and, at first, you tried to ignore him, because you didn't want to risk the friendship you had with him. But it was impossible.

The first kiss was at sunset on the coast, on a beach where you both used to go when you were younger. You hadn't planned anything, you didn't even know how you had ended up there, in front of him, feeling the breeze and the scent of salt in the air. Pierre looked at you with those warm eyes, and without saying anything, he shortened the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, as if both of you were measuring the intensity, the newness of it, until it became deeper, more real. In that moment, you felt like a line had been crossed, and although a part of you was afraid, another part knew it was inevitable. Pierre held you with a tenderness you had never experienced before, and in that instant you felt safe, as if you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

From that day on, your relationship evolved with a naturalness that surprised you. The transition from friendship to love was so fluid that, at some point, you couldn't remember what your life was like without him. Pierre became your partner in every sense. He was that constant support in difficult times, the one who listened to you patiently when you shared your fears and your dreams, and the one who always had a smile for you, even after his hardest days on the slopes.

On one occasion, after a particularly exhausting race for him, you both sat on the terrace of your apartment, looking at the sky full of stars. Pierre was exhausted, his shoulders tense and his expression more somber than usual. Without saying anything, you approached and began to massage his shoulders. He sighed, grateful, and let his head fall back, relaxing under your hands. That night you talked for hours, about his career, about the future and about how you saw the world.

The days passed and, little by little, you realized that Pierre had become an indispensable part of your life. His way of seeing the world inspired you, his patience taught you, and, above all, his love made you feel complete. When he held your hand, looked at you, or said sweet words in your ear, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there were only the two of you.

It had been almost a year since your relationship with Pierre began, and things between you seemed to be going better than ever. The trust between the two of you was unbreakable, and you felt that he understood you better than anyone else. Pierre was present in every aspect of your life, and you, in his. It seemed like a solid love, a relationship based on years of friendship and respect. But there was something, a detail hidden between the corners of his life and yours, something that would soon emerge, transforming that feeling of security into a wound.

The first time Camille appeared again in your lives, it was on one of your weekend getaways. You had invited your childhood friends, as you did every year, to spend a few days in a villa near the sea. Camille joined the group near the end of the trip, saying that she had been away on a trip and hadn’t been able to make it earlier. Her presence made you happy, as always; after all, she was your lifelong friend, and sharing those moments with her made you feel like everything was in its place.

Pierre and Camille seemed to get along, and that had never worried you. They had known each other for a long time, as had Charles, and they all had a unique bond, one that you had come to value greatly. But what you didn’t know was that, months ago, during one of Pierre’s trips, something had happened between them, something that had become the darkest secret your relationship kept.

It was one night in Monaco, when Pierre was at a team dinner and Camille was visiting the city. Camille had always had a weakness for glamorous nights, clubs, and the freedom to be whoever she wanted. That evening, without thinking twice, she wrote to Pierre, and he, without thinking twice either, agreed to meet her for a drink after dinner. What started as a reunion between friends quickly turned into something more.

That night, Pierre and Camille shared not only laughter and memories, but also glances that went beyond friendship. They both knew it was wrong, that crossing that line was betraying the trust of someone they loved. But, between the intoxicating atmosphere of the place and the complicity they had shared for years, they let themselves go. Pierre felt an attraction he had forgotten, and Camille, who had always had a spark with him, encouraged him, letting herself go as well.

It was a mistake, one they both knew should stay in the past. After that night, Camille returned to her normal life, and Pierre returned to you, convinced that you would never know what had happened. They swore not to talk about it and to carry on as if nothing had happened. Camille continued to be your close friend, and Pierre, your partner.

In the following months, Pierre did everything he could to act as if nothing had happened. His attentions towards you increased, the small details with which he showed his love and the constancy of his affectionate words. With every glance he took at you, he tried to redeem the guilt he felt inside. But even though he seemed to have put it behind him, the shadow of that night still haunted him in his darkest moments. At night, in moments of silence, that guilt tormented him, and he knew that if you ever found out, his whole world would fall apart.

Camille, for her part, came back into your life without showing any trace of remorse. She was skilled at hiding her emotions, and although sometimes her glances at Pierre had a trace of complicity, she managed to remain distant, as if nothing was different. She was still the same Camille as always, with her contagious laugh and carefree attitude. When you were with her, you couldn't even imagine what she was hiding behind her smile.

A few months after that meeting at the villa, something began to change. At first, it was just an intuition, a slight feeling that crossed you from time to time, like a shadow that made you frown for no apparent reason. Pierre was still affectionate, attentive, almost as if he was trying to make up for something, although you didn't know what.

One night, while you were looking through some photos from that getaway, you noticed one in particular: Pierre and Camille, sharing a somewhat peculiar smile. It was a harmless image, but, without knowing why, it made you uncomfortable. You kept telling yourself that they were your friends, that they had known each other all their lives and that it was normal for them to get along. However, something inside you kept doubting.

The weeks that followed increased that uneasiness. You noticed how Pierre looked away when you mentioned Camille, or how Camille, in a conversation, avoided giving details about some nights in which, according to her, "everyone just had fun." You began to analyze her words, her gestures, her looks. You felt trapped in a spiral of mistrust, and you couldn't help it.

You couldn't keep those concerns to yourself; you needed to vent to someone, someone you really trusted. That's when you decided to talk to Charles. After all, he knew Pierre, Camille, and you better than anyone else. You knew he would be honest with you, without trying to sugarcoat things.

One afternoon, while Charles was back at his house, you decided to call him. He answered on the second ring, in that warm, relaxed voice that always managed to calm you down a little. It didn't take you long to convince him to meet you at a secluded café, away from the eyes of anyone who might recognize you.

Charles arrived shortly after you, and upon seeing you, he immediately noticed that something was wrong. He sat down in front of you, looking at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. You tried to smile to lighten the moment, but you barely managed to keep it. So, without further ado, you blurted out what you had in store.

“Charles, I need your help. I feel like… something is going on between Pierre and Camille. I’m not sure what, but… I have this feeling that they are hiding something from me. It’s just a suspicion, but I can’t get it out of my head,” you said, your voice a little broken, trying to control your emotions.

Charles looked at you silently, evaluating every word and every expression of yours. He knew how important Pierre was to you, and the seriousness of your words made him realize that this was not just a passing doubt. He leaned forward, getting closer, and gently took your hand, as he usually did in those moments when you felt lost.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I mean, Camille and Pierre have always been close, but I never thought that…” he paused, as if he didn’t want to feed your fears. “Look, I don’t want you to be hasty. Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on us, and it’s easy to get carried away by insecurity.”

However, your words had awakened something in him, a kind of doubt that seemed to invade his mind as well. Charles knew Pierre and Camille, and, although he had always trusted them, he had never ruled out that a spark could arise between them. After all, he knew what Camille was like, how impulsive she could be, and he also knew Pierre, and how much he hated dealing with conflict. And now, seeing you so distressed, he couldn’t help but think that maybe your suspicions had some truth.

“Do you want me to talk to Pierre?” he finally asked you, looking at you seriously. “Maybe I can get something out of him, try to see if there’s something he’s hiding from you.”

You stayed silent, considering his proposal. You didn't want this to turn into a confrontation, and you didn't want to put Charles in an awkward position either. However, the idea that he could get some truth that was hidden from you seemed tempting.

"I don't know... I don't want Pierre to feel like I'm distrusting him," you murmured, lowering your gaze. "But I can't keep this doubt in my head either."

Charles nodded.

"Look, I'm going to try to find out something, in a subtle way. And if there's something you need to know, I'll tell you. But promise me that you won't do anything until we have some proof, okay?"

You promised Charles that you would be patient, that you would wait before doing anything. At that moment, you felt a mix of relief and fear. At least you weren't alone in this anymore; now you had someone on your side, someone who was willing to help you discover the truth.

The days that followed were long and heavy. Every time Pierre took your hand or looked at you with his affectionate eyes, you felt a pang in your chest, a doubt that went beyond what he could see. Meanwhile, Charles did everything he could to find out something and, in a casual conversation, try to get some clue. You didn't reveal your suspicions to him, but you watched him, attentive to any gesture or word that could give him away.

Finally, one day, Charles called you again.

That call from Charles came when you least expected it. You were at home, in your kitchen, with a cup of tea in your hands, trying to stay calm. The sound of your phone brought you out of your thoughts, and seeing Charles' name on the screen, you felt a knot in your stomach.

You answered quickly, trying to hide the fear that was eating away at you inside.

"Charles?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant.

It took him a moment to answer, and his tone, serious and slow, gave you no reassurance.

“We need to talk. It’s about Pierre… and Camille,” he said, bluntly, and you felt as if the air was being knocked out of your lungs.

You fell silent, knowing that this was the moment your suspicions were either going to come to life or fade away completely. Charles continued, with a tense calm that only increased your anxiety.

“What I suspected about you… it’s true. Pierre and Camille were together, a couple of months ago. It was… it wasn’t something they wanted you to know, and they tried to hide it, but… the pieces don’t fit, and I found out.”

Confusion and pain hit you hard. The teacup in your hands shook and nearly fell, but your fingers tightened around it, as if that small sense of control could keep everything from falling apart.

“It can’t be…” you whispered, unable to process what you had just heard. Charles’ words echoed in your head like a distant echo, but your mind didn’t want to accept them. You couldn’t believe it, not after everything you had shared. Somehow, you hoped this was just a mix-up, a cruel joke. But the seriousness in Charles’ voice left no room for doubt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Charles said, a mix of frustration and sadness in his tone. “I know how hard this must be for you, but what I’m telling you is the truth. Pierre… I don’t know what he thought, but he wasn’t being honest with you.”

Pain gripped you immediately. You slumped into the chair, your hand still clutching the cup, which now shook as if your entire body was trying to hold on to something that was about to break. Images piled up in your mind: Pierre, so close, so loving, and Camille, your lifelong friend. It all seemed like a cruel game, a lie that was woven with invisible threads until now.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You needed to understand how something so destructive had gone unnoticed for so long.

Charles sighed, and in his tone there was a hint of helplessness, as if it hurt him too to be the bearer of bad news.

“I knew because when I was with Pierre last week, I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right. He… was behaving strangely, and when I started asking him questions, everything fell into place. It wasn’t easy for me, but… that’s what I found.” I didn't like having to do it, but I did it for you.

A lump formed in your throat, and you felt the weight of everything you had taken for granted fall on you, crushing you. Everything you had lived with Pierre, all those moments of love, of complicity, suddenly seemed unreal, as if you had been living a lie.

"I... I can't believe it, Charles," you finally said, your voice cracked, full of pain. You felt like the ground beneath you was no longer firm, that everything you had built with Pierre was crumbling into a thousand pieces.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Charles, although worried, knew he couldn't say anything to ease the pain that was now overwhelming you.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured, not knowing what else to say. He was also sad for you, for the way things had happened, and for what you knew you would have to face.

The words seemed to flee from you. All you wanted to do was scream, to run away, to run away somewhere where no one knew you, where all of this wasn’t real. How could Pierre, the man you trusted, the one you’d put all your love into, have done this? And Camille, your friend, the one who’d always been there, how could she have crossed that line, betrayed you like that?

“Thank you, Charles,” you said at last, your words cold, automatic, as if you were somehow trying to keep some control over yourself. You knew you needed to process it, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t know how to move on when what you thought was your life had been shattered in front of you.

You hung up the call, and for a moment, everything was silent. The pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt empty, as if the betrayal had ripped a piece of yourself out of you. The space Pierre had occupied in your life suddenly seemed like an impossible void to fill, and Camille, your friend, became a distant, unrecognizable shadow.

While you were sinking into your pain, your bewilderment and the whirlwind of emotions that Pierre and Camille had unleashed in your life, the two of them continued with their own secret. Far from what was happening with you, in the distance that you could not see, Camille and Pierre

were together at an event and, as on so many previous occasions, when they crossed paths in the hallway, there was an instant clash of glances. Memories of the past came back, like ghosts that had never left. Camille, like him, felt the tension between the two of them, a tension that seemed unable to dissipate, even with the passage of time.

Pierre, with his mind full of contradictions, had managed to calm down after his return to you. But now, again in front of Camille, the old emotions invaded him again. He remembered the moment when their bodies met, the touch of their lips, the sensation of something he had not been able to reject. Camille, aware of what had happened, stared at him, and although her expression seemed relaxed, her eyes betrayed the mixture of regret and desire she felt.

“I don’t know why, but… I haven’t been able to forget you,” Pierre told her, his voice lowering in tone, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear them. The confession came out without her being able to avoid it, like a truth that had been pressing against her chest for weeks.

Camille didn’t say anything at first, she just stared at him, with a slight smile on her lips. She couldn’t deny what had happened between them, even if she tried to act indifferent. After all, she had been the one who had made the first move that night, she who had accepted the kiss, who had taken him to a place where neither of them thought about the consequences.

“Don’t forget it,” she replied, her voice soft, but with a tone that Pierre recognized as dangerous. There was something in her words that caught him, something that made him feel as if he were at a crossroads. Camille hadn't let him go, and deep down, he knew she didn't want to either.

Pierre stayed silent, watching her. There was something about her, that intense, direct gaze, that completely disarmed him. He realized that, despite his relationship with you, something with Camille was still alive, something that refused to die out.

"And what do we do with that?" Pierre asked, his tone full of uncertainty, but also of an emotion that he couldn't hide. The words tasted bitter, but also necessary. He couldn't continue living with the guilt, with the weight of what had happened between them.

Camille took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was around, and then whispered, almost as if she were revealing a secret truth.

"I don't know what to do with us... with what happened," she admitted, and for a moment, Pierre felt time stop between them. Camille had always been direct, and though there was regret in her words, there was also something deeper, something that kept them connected beyond betrayal.

Pierre took a step closer, a movement that was driven by a need he couldn't control.

"I should never have let this happen… but I can't ignore it, Camille. I can't ignore you," he confessed, this time bluntly, as if the words were slipping from his control.

Camille didn't back down. On the contrary, she moved a little closer to him, and although remorse was present in her eyes, there was also a spark that she couldn't hide.

"I can't forget you either," she replied, with a smile that, although bitter, was sincere. There was something in her voice that, although full of contradiction, showed that, deep down, despite the betrayal, there was still something between them, something they couldn't just leave behind.

The conversation between them ended with a heavy, but not definitive silence. They both knew that what they felt, what had happened between them, wasn't going to disappear immediately. Although Pierre had returned to your side, his mind was still caught between the love he felt for you and the temptation of what he had experienced with Camille.

When Pierre returned, everything seemed to be in its place. At first, he tried to be the same as always: caring, attentive, the kind and loving boy you had been with. But something in him had changed, and you knew it.

That evening, after he arrived at your apartment, you found him in the kitchen while you were making dinner. There was something different about him, and you couldn't ignore it anymore. You knew you couldn't keep living with the doubt and the pain in silence. You had to face it, even if it meant losing him.

You approached him decisively, your heart racing, but determined that, at last, you would have answers. You couldn't keep up with that feeling of betrayal that was eating away at you inside.

"Pierre, we need to talk," you said, trying to stay calm, but knowing that your words sounded much colder than you wanted.

Pierre looked up, surprised by the tone of your voice. He tried to smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and for a moment, everything seemed to collapse between you.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, with that typical calm of his that used to reassure you, but now only irritated you.

You knew what you had to say, you knew there was no turning back now. You had the proof, you had the truth. It was time for him to face what he had done.

“I know what happened with Camille,” you said suddenly, and the air between you both grew thick. The words came out with the force of something that had been bottled up for too long. It was as if, as you spoke them, the pain you had been carrying around with you for weeks began to release, but at the same time, it intensified.

Pierre was silent for a moment, his face expressionless. Then, you saw him tense, his jaw set. His eyes shifted for a second, as if he were looking for a way out, a way to evade the truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered, but his tone was no longer the same. There was something uncomfortable, something you couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t lie!” you exclaimed, feeling the rage and pain explode inside you. The truth burned you, and you needed him to accept it, to stop hiding it. You knew you couldn’t continue with someone who was lying to you so openly. “Charles told me everything, Pierre. I know what they did, I know you were with Camille.”

Pierre tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t help the slight trembling in his hands, the anxiety that invaded him. He knew he couldn’t continue denying the obvious, but he also knew that if he admitted it, he would lose everything he had built with you.

“It’s not what you think…” he said, his voice now lowering, trying to control the situation. But you weren’t going to let him manipulate you anymore. You knew him too well for his empty words to convince you again.

“How is it not what I think?” you asked, unable to contain the sarcasm and pain that seeped into your words. Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't realize what happened? You lied to me, Pierre. You lied to me! I can't believe you did this to me.

Instead of apologizing, Pierre tried to turn the conversation around, like he always did when things got tough. He tried to find an excuse, a justification for his behavior, as if that could make everything go back to normal.

"It was a mistake, something that happened, but it doesn't mean what you think it does. Camille… Camille has always been a close friend, and that night, it was just a moment of weakness. I love you, not her. What happened doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here with you."

But those words had no power over you. They weren't enough to erase the betrayal you felt. He had overlooked it so many times, ignored so many signs that now they became crystal clear. And now, in front of you, Pierre was trying to downplay it, as if it was all an accident, something weightless, when what he had done had broken everything you believed in him.

You took a step back, unable to bear it any longer.

“I can’t go on like this, Pierre,” you said, your voice shaking, but firm. Each word was another nail in the coffin of what had been your relationship.

Pierre seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected you to get to this point. He tried to get closer, to take your hand, but you pushed him away roughly, not allowing him to touch you.

“Don’t touch me. You won’t.” You felt empty, but at the same time liberated, as if a heavy layer of pain and disappointment had suddenly been removed.

Pierre tried to speak, but the sadness in his eyes was evident. Now he saw that everything was crumbling before him, that the lie had come to light, and that nothing could save what was left of you.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice cracking, but the words no longer held the power they once had. No matter how sorry he felt, the truth was there, and there was no turning back.

“Then you should have thought about it before,” you answered, with a calm that surprised you. It was as if, finally, all the pain you had been accumulating had transformed into something more solid, something that strengthened you. “I don’t want you around. Not after all this.”

And without giving her any room to say more, you turned around and walked to your room, heartbroken, but with the feeling that at least you had done the right thing. You had reached the end, and even though it hurt, you knew that your life had to go on, away from lies, away from betrayals.

Pierre stood there, alone in the living room, watching as everything he had had with her faded away, unable to do anything but accept that he had lost what he loved most.

After the confrontation with Pierre, the weight of the situation did not fade away. On the contrary, what had started as a broken hope, was transformed into an urgent need to escape. You needed to disconnect, to get away, to find peace away from all that. And there was no better way to do it than taking a breather somewhere where no one could touch you, where you could recover a little of yourself.

That was when you thought of Charles. You knew that his impulsive personality and desire for adventure fit perfectly with what you needed right now: an escape.

The idea of traveling to Italy came to you as a perfect way to unwind. Italy had everything you were looking for: beautiful landscapes, tranquility, history, and culture. You called Charles, who was in the middle of training for the season, but you knew that if anyone could understand what you needed, it was him. At first, you took him by surprise, but upon hearing your voice, he immediately recognized the anguish you were trying to hide.

“Charles…” you said, hesitantly at first, but with the determination of someone who had already made up their mind. “I need to get away from all this. I want to go to Italy, to a villa in the mountains, away from everything. Away from Pierre, away from everything that happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. You knew he was processing what you had just told him, but you also knew that he would never leave you alone in something like that.

“Of course,” he finally answered, without a moment’s hesitation. “If that’s what you need, let’s go. To Italy then.”

The relief you felt upon hearing his answer was immediate. Charles never questioned your decisions. He had always been there for you, and his unconditional support gave you the strength you needed at that moment.

“Thank you, Charles,” you said, unable to stop your voice from cracking a little.

The idea of traveling to Italy began to take shape quickly. Charles took care of everything, from flights to accommodation, looking for a secluded place in the mountains, far from the hustle and bustle of tourist cities. A place where they could rest, explore, and above all, unwind.

As soon as you had everything ready, the anticipation grew.

The day of the trip arrived quickly. You packed your things with more excitement than ever, relieved to finally get away from the pain and Pierre’s constant presence in your life. It was clear that you needed this change, and, although you knew that the wound Pierre had left would not heal immediately, at least you could give yourself the space to heal, without the pressure of the media that already knew about the crisis between the two of you stalking you every day.

Arriving in Italy, the beauty of the landscape enveloped you like a warm hug. The mountains rose majestically, covered in green, the villas scattered among the vineyards gave a feeling of peace and tranquility that you had not felt for a long time. The villa in which they would stay was hidden between hills, and the rustic and cozy decoration made you feel as if you were in another world, one in which the past had no place.

You and Charles spent the first few days exploring the place, walking through the small towns nearby, tasting wines and eating fresh pasta at local restaurants. Every day was a respite, a chance to unwind, to forget about the pain for a bit and focus on the present.

Although Charles was his usual impulsive and lively self, he sometimes surprised you with his more reflective side, the one that appeared when he noticed that you were pensive, that the shadow of what you had experienced with Pierre had reached you.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told you one day while you were walking through a small medieval town. The narrow streets, full of flowers and color, gave you a sense of calm that only Italy could offer you.

“I know,” you answered, smiling slightly, although it was evident that you still had a hard time letting go of what you had experienced. “It’s just that sometimes I think about everything that happened, and I think I should never have let it go so far.”

Charles looked at you and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t need to say more, because his gesture said it all. He was there for you, not just as a friend, but as someone who wanted to see you happy, free of any kind of emotional burden.

“Don’t worry about it. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re in this together,” he said, and the sincerity of his words gave you the strength to keep going.

As the days passed in Italy, things between you and Charles began to change in subtle, but inevitable ways. The first day was just an escape, a respite from the pain Pierre had left behind, but you soon realized that being with Charles in that environment, without the shadows of everyday life, was making you feel something new, something you hadn’t anticipated.

Charles was excellent company, with his sarcastic humor and contagious energy, always ready to make you laugh even when your thoughts wandered to pain.

One afternoon, as they walked down a path between olive trees, Charles began to talk about his life, about his unfulfilled dreams of becoming a world champion, as if he was truly enjoying the company, as if the noise of the world had disappeared. When dinner time came, they sat together at a small table in the garden, with candles lighting the atmosphere and a glass of wine in their hands.

“Did you know that when I was a kid, I thought Italy was the perfect place to live?” Charles said, looking out at the landscape, as if he was reliving his childhood. There was something in his voice that made you think that, although he was always the impulsive and fun-loving boy, there was a side of him that he never fully showed.

“Really?” you asked, intrigued, and smiled at him as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling back, but now with a softer touch on his face. “My family used to come here during the holidays. Italy has something magical, don’t you think?”

You nodded slowly. Something about the atmosphere, the tranquility that enveloped everything, was certainly special.

Every day passed so naturally. On the walks, the comfortable silences, the shared laughter, the deep conversations during dinner or at the end of the day, when you sat on the terraces to watch the sunset, everything seemed to fit together, as if you were both in the right place, at the perfect time. Charles' presence calmed you, made you feel protected and, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe without the anguish that had been drowning you.

On one of those afternoons, after a long walk in the hills, when the light of day was already beginning to fade and the fresh air was felt on your skin, Charles moved closer to you.

“You know, I’m glad we made this trip,” he said, walking close to you, with a look you couldn’t quite read. “I want you to know that even though I’m a little… unpredictable at times, you can count on me for anything.”

There was a silence between you as you walked together, as if the words had become more meaningful, heavier. At that moment, you realized something: Charles had been an unconditional friend.

The tension in the air between you was palpable, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was more of an attraction that grew little by little, unhurriedly, but inevitably.

Despite the serenity that Italy brought, there was something you couldn’t avoid, something that kept stalking you. Camille’s messages were starting to become more and more frequent. At first, you ignored them, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be the right time to deal with what had happened between her, Pierre, and you. But, as the days went by, the messages became more persistent, more urgent.

Camille: "I need to talk to you, please. I know things aren't right, but we have to talk."

Camille: "I miss you, can we fix this? I don't know how to fix this, but I feel so bad..."

The messages were always similar, asking for a chance to explain herself, to tell her side of the story. You knew it wouldn't be easy, that nothing she said could erase what she had done, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel guilty for not giving her the chance to explain. The problem was that, deep down, you knew you didn't want to talk to her. You had been so devastated, so broken by the betrayal, that it was impossible for you to find the right words to forgive her, or even to listen to her.

One day, while walking through a nearby villa, Charles noticed that you were staring at your phone, distracted. You didn't give it much importance, but he, as always attentive to your gestures, came a little closer.

"Everything okay?" “He asked softly, stopping beside you.

You looked at the phone in your hand, seeing Camille’s latest text. The temptation to respond, to end it all, was rife, but then you remembered what Charles had said: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You took a deep breath, feeling like even if you wanted to work things out, this wasn’t the right time or place to do so.

“It’s Camille,” you said, trying to sound calm. “She’s been texting me all the time. She wants to talk… but I don’t know if she should.”

Charles didn’t say anything at first, but his look said it all. He didn’t need to explain further.

“I understand,” he replied, his voice firm, but also soft. He moved a little closer, walking beside you. “Sometimes people do things they can’t undo, and even if she wants to explain herself, I don’t think that will change what happened. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do something out of responsibility or fear. You have every right to decide what’s best for you.”

You were surprised by how Charles had handled the situation. It wasn’t just a matter of being there for you; he seemed to understand you beyond words. You felt cared for, supported, and that was something you had never experienced so clearly. Camille’s words seemed to fade away in Charles’ calm presence.

‘What if I just stop responding? What if we never talk again?’ you thought to yourself.

“Sometimes when someone hurts you, it’s best to let it go,” Charles said, not looking at you, but his confident voice made a shiver run through your body. “You don’t need to solve everything. You don’t have to heal the wound right away.” Just do what makes you feel better.

His words resonated within you. For the first time in days, you began to feel like you could truly let go of Camille and Pierre without feeling the pressure of having to face it all. The relief of taking control of the situation spread like a wave of calm.

You decided you wouldn’t respond to Camille. Not right now. You were learning to set boundaries, to recognize what really mattered at this point in your life.

The next night, after dinner, Charles sat next to you on the terrace, looking up at the stars, and broke the silence with a smile.

“Have you?” he asked, knowing what he meant.

You looked at him, a little surprised by his question, but the answer came easily, as if you had been waiting for that moment to finally make a decision.

“Yes,” you said, looking at your phone one last time before putting it back in your pocket. “I’ve decided not to respond. I need to focus on myself now.”

Charles nodded, satisfied, and moved a little closer.

“That’s good,” he said, his tone making it clear that, in his eyes, you had done the right thing.

And even as Camille continued to text, your mind and heart were beginning to free itself.

The atmosphere in Italy had already changed by then. Everything felt different, more intense. Although it had all started as an escape, a simple respite from what you had left behind, now things between you and Charles were clear. There was something else in the air, something you couldn't deny, even if you tried.

That evening, the villa was particularly quiet, the fresh mountain air caressing the skin, and the dim lights on the terrace creating an almost magical atmosphere. They had spent the afternoon touring a small nearby town, exploring local shops and enjoying Italian cuisine. It had been a day full of laughter, of shared glances, of small gestures that, although not obvious to the rest, were clear as day to both of them.

After dinner, in which everything seemed to happen with overwhelming naturalness, they retired to the living room, where the fireplace was already burning softly. The villa was silent, as if the outside world had been left behind. Charles approached you, offering you a glass of wine as he sat down beside you, closer than he usually was. Your breathing quickened a little, as if a fate you couldn’t resist was drawing nearer.

The words trailed off little by little. The silence between you two was filled with a palpable tension, an energy that only the two of you could understand. You realized that, in all that time, what was between you two wasn’t just friendship, it wasn’t just support. It was something much deeper, more visceral. And, for the first time, fear didn’t invade you. There was no doubt in your mind, only an overwhelming desire to be closer to him.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how we got here,” Charles said, his voice deep and low, as he looked into your eyes. There was something in his tone that made you understand that, just like you, he already knew. You already knew that tonight wouldn’t be like the others.

Without thinking, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm the racing heartbeat in your chest, but you knew it wasn’t just the wine that was affecting you. It was Charles’ closeness, the warmth of his body beside you, the way his eyes kept scanning your face, like he was searching for something, like he was waiting for your permission, or like he had already crossed that line without either of you saying it out loud.

“Maybe…” you whispered, staring at him. “Maybe this was all meant to be.”

Charles’ response was immediate, and before you could say anything else, he moved a little closer. His breath, warm and slightly intoxicating, mingled with yours as his hands, gentle but firm, settled on your shoulders. At that moment, you knew. There was no turning back.

The contact between the two of you was subtle at first, almost like a test, a check to see if you were both willing to move forward. But the desire, that raw, unadorned desire, became unstoppable. He didn’t say anything else. His mouth moved closer to yours, and when your lips finally met, it was like all the weight of the world melted away. It was a soft kiss at first, but with each second it intensified, as if the touch of your lips was just the beginning of something much deeper.

Your hands slid to his neck, pulling him towards you, as you gave yourself over completely to that moment, to that connection that had been slowly building over those days in Italy. The barrier between the two of you was completely broken. There was no longer room for doubt or the past. There was only the now, the shared present in which Charles and you were no longer just two friends, but something more, something that could not be ignored.

The intensity of the kiss increased, and Charles gently laid you down on the couch, his body now closer to yours, almost merging. Everything you had been holding back, all the pain, doubts and uncertainties, vanished in the electricity of the moment. There were no words, only the sound of labored breathing and the beating of hearts in unison. Each touch was more urgent, more demanding, as if the world around you did not exist and only the palpable desire between you remained.

Desire took hold of both of you without reservation. The connection you shared went beyond physical attraction; There was a deep need to be together, to explore everything you had been holding back, to take that friendship to a whole new place. And, even though you knew things would never be the same again, you couldn't do anything but surrender to the intensity of the passion you shared in that instant.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, but with a feeling of having crossed a line that could no longer be erased.

Charles, with a mischievous smile on his lips, looked at you and, with his voice heavy with desire, whispered:

“That… wasn't just a kiss, was it?.”

The sparkle in his eyes reflected the same thing you felt deep within your soul. You knew that what had happened between you two wasn’t just a passing desire. It was something that would change the dynamic between the two of you forever. But at that moment, in that villa, with the cold wind blowing outside and the fireplace burning softly inside, it didn’t matter what the future held for you.

All that mattered was the desire you shared and the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you felt completely alive, completely present in what was happening between you and Charles.

The night dragged on, but time seemed to have stopped, as if the universe itself had been suspended between the accelerated heartbeats of both of you. The air in the villa, permeated with the mixture of your perfume and the woody scent of the fire, seemed to envelop you, making you feel closer to Charles, more connected to everything you had just shared.

You lay back in the chair for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, still processing what had happened. The taste of his mouth was still on yours, and the warmth of his body was still there. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, there wasn’t a hint of regret.

Charles, for his part, was also silent, his eyes fixed on you. He seemed so serene, so calm, as if everything was natural, as if you had both been waiting for this moment. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, his tone soft but with a slight tension, as if he was searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes.

You turned to him, looking into his eyes, and felt a warmth run through your body. You could see in his expression that he already knew the answer. There was no need to talk about it, but something inside you needed to confirm that you were both on the same page.

“No,” you answered, the word firmly coming out of your lips. “I don’t regret it.”

Charles smiled, his expression relaxed, as if he had dropped an invisible burden that you had both been carrying for days. He leaned back, his body close to yours, as if he didn't want to separate for even a second.

"Me neither," he said in a deep voice, his hand sliding towards yours and intertwining it with yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Time passed without you noticing, between soft conversations, shared laughter and knowing glances. There was no need for more words, just the feeling that the moment was flowing in a way that neither of you had anticipated, but that, somehow, both of you wanted.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 imagine #social media au #charles leclerc #f1 grid x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc fluff

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rose24207 · 16 days ago

Text

No, you’re not

Summary: You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: wow this is a long request! Thank you!! I really hope it’s like how you wanted it! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Based of this request

Masterlist

The Brazil Grand Prix had always been one of Lando’s toughest races. The circuit wasn’t just a test of his skill; it was a mental and physical marathon. This year was no different. After a grueling 71 laps that left him finishing far from where he wanted to be, he was wrung out, mentally frayed, and questioning every decision he’d made during the weekend. The lack of sleep afterward didn’t help, and by the time he boarded the flight back to Monaco, he was barely holding himself together.

All he wanted was to get home and shut the world out. No cameras, no engineers pointing out his mistakes, no fans bombarding him with well-meaning but exhausting messages. Just silence.

Except, as soon as he opened his front door, he realized he wasn’t going to be alone.

The lights in the living room were dim, but the faint glow of the TV illuminated the familiar figure curled up on his couch. You.

Lando’s heart squeezed at the sight of you, a feeling so achingly familiar it was almost painful. You were his best friend—the one constant in his life, the one person who saw him as just Lando, not a Formula 1 driver, not a public figure, just the boy you’d grown up with.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You were his best friend. The girl he’d been in love with since he was sixteen. The girl who deserved better than someone like him.

You looked up when the door clicked shut, your eyes immediately finding his in the dim light. “Finally,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “I was starting to think you’d sleep at the airport.”

Lando let out a breathless laugh, dropping his bag by the door. “Not sure I’d get much sleep there either.” He leaned against the wall, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I figured you’d be in a mood, so I let myself in.” You gestured to the half-empty bowl of soup on the coffee table. “I also raided your fridge. You really need to go grocery shopping.”

Lando shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “How’d you even get here?”

“I have a key, remember?” you said with a smirk. “And I used that thing called a car. Revolutionary, really.”

He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest spread. You were always like this—casual, unbothered, always knowing exactly what he needed before he even realized it himself.

You stood and crossed the room, your smile fading as you got a closer look at him. “You look terrible,” you said, your voice dropping into that soft, concerned tone that always made his chest tighten.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I mean it,” you said, tugging gently on the sleeve of his hoodie as if inspecting him. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing. “Lando...”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, though the hoarseness of his voice betrayed him.

“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the couch. He let you, too tired to argue. “Sit. You need to eat something, drink something, and then sleep for about a year.”

He dropped onto the couch with a groan, sinking into the cushions. You draped a blanket over him before disappearing into the kitchen. He could hear you rummaging around, the sound of a kettle boiling, the clink of a spoon against a mug.

When you returned, you handed him a steaming cup of tea. “Drink,” you ordered, sitting beside him.

He took the cup and cradled it in his hands, the warmth seeping into his skin. He stared at the liquid for a moment before taking a small sip. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

You snorted. “Someone has to. God knows you’re useless at it.”

He looked up at you then, and the small smile on your face made his chest ache. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low. “You don’t have to... be here. I’ll be fine.”

You frowned, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were worried about him. “Of course I do,” you said softly. “You’re my best friend, Lando. Where else would I be?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? You were always there. Always caring, always looking out for him, always steady and dependable. And he was... what? A mess. A guy who jumped from fling to fling, trying—and failing—to get you out of his head.

He knew what you thought of him. You’d never said it outright, but he could see it in the way you’d roll your eyes whenever you saw another headline about him with some random girl. You thought he wasn’t serious. That he couldn’t be serious. And maybe you were right. Maybe he wasn’t capable of being the kind of man you deserved.

“How was the race?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Bad,” he said simply.

“You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Not really.”

You nodded, not pushing him. Instead, you shifted closer, your shoulder brushing against his. He felt your warmth seep into him, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

“Did you eat?” you asked after a while.

“Not really.”

You sighed and stood. “Stay here. I’ll heat up the rest of the soup.”

He watched as you disappeared into the kitchen, his chest tightening with every step you took. You were too good to him. Too good for him.

By the time you came back, holding a bowl of steaming soup, he’d convinced himself to push his feelings down again, to keep them buried where they couldn’t hurt you.

“Here,” you said, handing him the bowl. “Eat.”

He took the bowl and set it on his lap, picking up the spoon. “Thanks.”

You sat beside him again, watching as he ate in silence.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“I’m not babysitting you,” you said with a shrug. “I’m being a good friend.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re too good at it.”

You smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sounds were the clink of his spoon against the bowl and the faint hum of the TV.

“Lando,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you were looking at him—like you could see right through him.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you said. “Whatever’s going on in your head... you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. You always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to pull him back from the edge.

“I know,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

And in that moment, he realized that no matter how much he tried to push you away, no matter how much he convinced himself that he didn’t deserve you, you would always be there.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Thank you for reading!

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando x you #f1 #fluff #angst #formula 1 #formula one

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katiascraft · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it 💌 thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.

#my work!🧉#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fic #op81

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maretinelli · 13 days ago

Text

SINCE ALWAYS

Lewis Hamilton X physiotherapist!fem!reader

Summary: Lewis and Y/n were like they were attached at the hip. Ever since they were kids, the two of them were there for each other, supporting, caring, and celebrating. But the truth was that they had been in love with each other since they were teenagers, and Lewis's invitation for her to be his fake girlfriend at a wedding made their feelings come to light.

Words: 9.6K+

Warnings: Best friends to lovers, fake dating, cute, a little distressing because they don't say their feelings right away haha, mentions of sex, confessions of love.

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may be made. And I love reading fake dating stories, so I think writing them is cool too hahaha.

MASTERLIST

Since they were little, Lewis and Y/n were inseparable.

They grew up on the same street in London, attended the same schools and shared dreams and insecurities.

Lewis always said that he wouldn't be a pilot without Y/n, because she believed in him before anyone else. And she also said that she only managed to survive college because of the motivational messages and the coffees he delivered to her dorm door when he had time off.

That for her, Lewis achieved the impossible.

When Yin graduated with a degree in physiotherapy and a post-graduate degree in sports physiotherapy, Lewis was keen to help her join Mercedes, saying the team needed someone as talented and dedicated as she was.

Now both living in Monaco, their friendship had only grown stronger. Y/n used to joke that Lewis spent so much time at her apartment that they should split the bills.

He always laughed, saying he only went there for Roscoe, the bulldog who seemed to love the physical therapist almost as much as his owner.

Deep down, both Lewis and Y/n knew there was something deeper between them, but neither of them had the courage to say it out loud.

To Lewis, Y/n was more than just his best friend; she was his rock in the midst of the chaos of his career. She knew exactly what to say when he lost a race, how to cheer him up on his bad days, and most of all, she always believed in him. He loved her smile, the way she wrinkled her nose when she was focused, and even the little scoldings she gave him when he forgot to stretch or took bad care of himself. But admitting that? He couldn’t risk it. Not when she was the most important person in his life.

That afternoon, Lewis parked his car and went up to Y/n's apartment. He had a key, just like she had to his apartment. After knocking on the door and getting no answer, he went inside, calling out to her.

"Y/n? Are you home?" His voice echoed through the apartment.

"I'm in the shower! I'll be right out!" She shouted from the back.

Lewis smiled and gave a quick command to Roscoe, who trotted down the hall with him.

In her room, Lewis flopped down on the bed, taking in the familiar space. The shelf beside the bed was filled with mementos, photos of them together at races, from trips, and even a small 'best friend' trophy that Hamilton had given her as a joke years ago. He started to sort through the things, feeling completely at home.

"What brings your divine presence here?" she teases, calling out loud from the bathroom, her voice muffled by the door.

"Walking around, Roscoe wanted to see you." He replied, chuckling as he heard her laughter in the background.

"Oh, sure. Roscoe, the main reason, right?" Y/n scoffed. "Lewis, do me a favor? Hand me the sweatpants that are on the bed?"

Lewis picked up the piece of clothing and walked to the bathroom door, which opened just a crack. Y/n reached her wet arm out and grabbed the pants, thanking her before closing them again.

Minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and wearing a gray Tommy Hilfiger sweatsuit. Lewis noticed immediately.

"You only wear this when I'm around, just so I think you really like it." He teased, laughing. With a case of her glasses in his hands.

Y/n grabbed the towel she was holding and threw it at him.

"That's a lie! I love this gift as much as I love my job."

Lewis chuckled, setting the towel aside as she took an object from his hand and put it back in its place.

"You're going to break my glasses," she says, as if he were a child.

Lewis, with a quick gesture, took her glasses from inside the box before Y/n took them and put them on her eyes, widening them and taking them off quickly.

"Holy shit, Y/n. You're so nearsighted you're blind." He holds out his glasses to her.

Y/n rolls her eyes and puts her glasses on her face. Not wanting to change them for the lenses she had in the bathroom.

"Huh..." She mumbles, making Lewis smile.

She walks into the bathroom again, picking up the towel Lewis had thrown and holding it out, then starting to brush her wet hair.

"Seriously, what brings you here?" Y/n turns around and sees her best friend leaning against the doorframe of her large bathroom. "Because you're a jerk. I know you. You just show up out of nowhere, start going through my stuff like a child, and have that stupid smile on your face. You're about to ask for my help."

Lewis throws his head back and holds back a laugh.

"Roscoe. I already told you." He tried, but the smile gave away there was more.

"I know... Everything poor Roscoe" She came out of the bathroom, petting the dog that was lying on the rug in her room. "Isn't it, boy?"

Roscoe lifts his head and wags his tail.

As Yin asked if he wanted something to eat and they walked down the hallway from the bedroom, Lewis saw an invitation on the living room table. He recognized the invitation before he even read the name; it was from his sister.

She would be getting married in a few weeks to that scoundrel she called her fiancé.

"Hey, my sister invited you to the wedding too." He takes the invitation and walks to the kitchen.

"Of course. Your family loves me more than you." She teases, making Lewis laugh and roll his eyes.

"It's weird that her fiancé let her call you..." He sits on the counter. "He's very controlling with people."

Y/n fills a kettle to make tea and leans on the counter, looking at her best friend.

"Yeah... he's kind of weird, don't you think?" Lewis nods. "Remember the time we went to visit your mother in London and they were there, your sister seemed so excited to see us, and he had that... idiotic look on his face?" Y/n says, making a face and Lewis laughs. "When your sister told me she was engaged, I already expected that I wouldn't get the invitation because of him, but this caught me by surprise."

"He really is quite strange. The last Christmas I spent with them, he didn't say anything, didn't comment on anything, he just scolded my sister for talking too much and not wanting to give details about their life as a couple." Lewis frowns a little.

He really didn't like his brother-in-law, and had told his own sister as much. But he got a simple reply: 'Stop being a pain in the ass, he's just a reserved guy.'

The pilot deeply hoped that his sister would be happy with the 'reserved guy'. Because if not, things would be terrible for him and the one who would solve that was Lewis himself.

"Actually...I actually came here to talk about this..." He holds up the invitation that was now on the counter.

Y/n frowns, placing two mugs on top of the sink.

"Are you thinking about not going to the wedding?"

Lewis shakes his head. "No, no! It's something else."

"Do you want me to help you choose a tie?" Y/n interrupts.

"No, no!"

"What?"

Lewis doesn't speak, he just looks at his best friend, gathering the courage to make that proposal.

Meanwhile, Y/n had one hand on the stone counter and the other on her waist, anxiously waiting for Lewis to say what was on his mind. But her heart somehow accelerated.

Was he bringing someone with him and wanted to tell them? Was he dating someone and wanted to introduce them to his family? What did she have to do with it? Of course, she's family too. Don't forget.

Y/n had been feeling something for years. Lewis wasn't just her best friend; he was the guy who was by her side through every important moment in her life. He believed in her when no one else did, he opened doors she never imagined she would go through, and he never let her feel alone. The way he smiled at her, the way he pulled her into a hug for no reason, or the way he seemed genuinely interested in her everyday stories made her heart race. But she knew she couldn't ruin it. Lewis was Lewis.

It was her Lewis, and she wasn't about to share it with anyone. As childish as it sounded.

"I want you to come with me to the wedding." He says it as if it were simple, but the question isn't complete yet.

Y/n laughs. Feeling relieved not to hear anything like; girlfriend and Lewis in the same sentence.

"I'm going anyway." She smiled, then placed the tea bags in both mugs. "But if you want me to be your date, we'll tell your sister..." She didn't finish speaking when Lewis interrupted.

"Yes, I want you as my date, but there's one more thing..."

Y/n stops filling the mugs with hot water, frowning again and slowly placing the kettle on the stand.

"Lewis...you're scaring me like this..."

He blinks a few times.

Lewis took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment.

"It's my sister's fiancé, Y/n." He began, rubbing his hands on his knees nervously as he spoke. "He has this habit of... well, poking fun at me whenever he can. Every time we see each other, he makes some comment about how 'funny' it is that I'm successful at everything but relationships. As if the fact that I'm single is some kind of personal failure."

Y/n raised her eyebrows, surprised by the tone of irritation in Lewis's voice.

"And what did you do?" She asked, finishing filling the mugs with hot water. And then her eyes widened. "Oh my God, did you punch him?"

Lewis laughs, feeling the weight of the question lift for a few seconds.

"No, I didn't hit him or anything."

Y/n lets out a relieved sigh.

"I told you I wouldn't be single at the wedding. That I'd be bringing my... girlfriend."

She stopped immediately, her hands frozen in midair, the kettle still leaking a faint trail of steam. She slowly placed the kettle back on the stand, turning to face him.

"What?"

He blinked a few times, trying to gauge her reaction.

"That's it. I kind of... made up that I had a girlfriend."

"Okay..." Y/n crossed her arms, waiting for further explanation.

"And I thought..." Lewis hesitated, looking directly at her now, his expression as if he knew she was about to ask something absurd. "That you could be my girlfriend. For a weekend. Just for the wedding."

For a moment, silence filled the room. Y/n frowned, absorbing the request, but soon burst into genuine laughter, throwing her head back.

"That's a good one, Lew. You almost had me."

When she saw that he wasn't laughing along, her laughter slowly died down. "Wait, are you... serious?"

Lewis just nodded, a wry smile appearing on his lips.

"Do you think this will work?" She asked, still a bit incredulous. "Lew, I've practically been part of your family since birth! They know us like the back of their hand. They won't believe we're dating overnight! Both your family and mine!"

Lewis leaned forward, his hands gesturing as he tried to convince her.

"That's where our friendship comes in! No one will suspect because everyone already knows we're close. It won't be that hard to pretend. It's just for a weekend, Y/n. And honestly, it'll save me from hearing the Same speech as my brother-in-law about how I'm doomed to be alone forever."

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, clearly assessing how crazy he looked.

"Lew... this is crazy."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but you're the only person I trust with that."

Y/n felt her heart skip a beat in her ribcage and she could already feel butterflies starting to fly in her stomach.

"Are you sure about this? Because if we're going to do this, it's going to take a lot more than 'we're best friends' to convince someone."

Lewis smiled confidently.

"So, does that mean you're going to do it?"

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, before taking a sip of her tea and muttering, "I can't believe I'm actually going to go through this madness with you..."

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Travel day.

"I still think this is crazy," Y/n says, looking over her shoulder as she walks in front of Lewis down the aisle of the plane.

He just laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder.

The weeks had passed quickly, and Y/n and Lewis dedicated themselves to creating the perfect story for the relationship they would present at the wedding.

During the nights they spent together, surrounded by papers scattered on the floor and notes in Y/n's notebook, the atmosphere between them oscillated between lightness and something that neither of them could name.

She jotted down the details as he threw out ideas with ease, as if it was all just another one of their adventures together. But for Y/n, every shared laugh and every exchange of glances as they planned made her heart beat faster.

Lewis, in turn, hid his restlessness behind his laid-back charm. The idea of pretending to be Y/n's boyfriend was something he proposed out of necessity, but secretly it was also the fulfillment of a desire that he didn't dare admit even to himself. Being close to her, even in a false setting, made it seem like what he had wanted for so long could, for a brief moment, come true.

"Where was our first official date?" Y/n asked once with the pencil in her mouth, interrupting the silence.

"In that Italian restaurant, after the Monza GP." He answered without hesitation, a slight smile on his lips.

She nodded, taking notes, but felt her face heat up. No matter how much she tried to rationalize, planning every detail made the fake seem more and more real.

Now, two weeks later and his sister's wedding day even closer, the scene repeated itself.

Sitting side by side, Y/n held the notebook on her lap, while Lewis adjusted the headphones around his neck. The two were silent, but tension hung in the air. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it carried something indefinable. Something they both felt, but neither of them dared to mention.

"Okay, last review." Y/n opened the notebook, turning over some marked pages. "First date?"

"Italian restaurant, after the Monza GP." Lewis replied immediately, with a small, smug smile.

"And what did you order?" She arched her eyebrow, testing whether he had actually memorized the details.

Lewis tilted his head, pretending to think. "Mushroom risotto."

"Great, but you have to remember I ordered lasagna." She pointed her pencil at him, laughing.

"As if I would forget. You even made fun of me because I ate half of your dessert afterwards." He laughed, leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, relaxed.

Y/n closed the notebook. "And how did we start dating?"

Lewis smiles, pinching her nose a little. "I asked you to be my girlfriend at the race in Brazil. It was just the two of us in the Mercedes garage and I realized I couldn't spend another second without you by my side."

Y/n bit her lower lip. Totally hooked by the words Lewis had just spoken, her heart raced, her hands began to sweat, and then she had to look down at the closed notebook on her lap, giving an awkward smile.

"Alright, Hamilton. I think we're ready then."

"We are!" He noticed her rosy cheeks, but he didn't want to say anything, he just smiled and hugged her sideways. "We'll make this work, I promise..."

Just as Y/n would respond, the announcement that the plane was about to take off filled the speakers. She smiles and pays attention to her messages.

Between the detailed planning of the fake relationship and the rehearsals to make sure it all sounded convincing, they were both invested down to the last bit of emotional energy.

However, Y/n decided that she needed to add something extra to make their arrival at the wedding even more exciting.

A few days before the wedding, she sent a message to Lewis’s sister. Claiming to be overwhelmed with last-minute appointments, she said she would not be able to attend the wedding. The pilot’s sister responded almost immediately, sad but understanding. Despite her disappointment, she said she would look forward to seeing Y/n at her new home after the ceremony.

Y/n felt a pang of guilt sending the message, but knew it would make her arrival that much more memorable.

Meanwhile, Lewis, who was well aware of his best friend's dramatic ideas, took advantage of an afternoon when he was at Y/n's apartment, and called her family while she was by his side. During the call, Lewis casually announced that he would be bringing someone to the wedding - someone special, someone they definitely needed to meet.

Even though you already know it.

Y/n, who initially just helped Lewis keep his tone light during the conversation, ended up joining in. Even without speaking directly, she caught his words and laughed softly at the implications.

The mischievous smiles on both their faces were the only clue that there was more than it seemed.

When they arrived at London airport, the air was thick with anticipation. Y/n pulled her suitcase along while Lewis, sunglasses on his face and an easy smile, walked beside her. They exchanged knowing glances when they realized that no one from their family was there to greet them - everyone had already traveled to the wedding venue in the countryside.

It was a relief, as the chaos that could be caused if someone saw them together and the news of their 'dating' spread around the airport was the last thing they needed.

In the parking lot, they rented a large, comfortable car, ideal for the road to the countryside. Lewis took the wheel with his usual confidence, while Y/n organized the GPS on her phone to guide them. The trip started smoothly, but they both knew that the real challenge was yet to come: convincing their families that they were really dating.

The landscape gradually changed, with buildings giving way to green fields and small picturesque villages. However, even with the beauty of the scenery, nervousness hovered between the two as they chatted to distract themselves.

"Okay, important question we forgot to discuss." Y/n looked at him. "What if someone asks why we haven't told the public and your fans yet?"

Lewis, without hesitation, responded as if he had been preparing the answer for years. "Simple. Let's say our relationship is a secret. We don't want to tell the public because we are prioritizing our privacy."

Y/n tilted her head, considering the answer, before nodding with a small smile. "That's a great plan, actually. I think it'll work."

Lewis raised an eyebrow and, with a smirk, added, "And if nothing works, we can just run away and hide in the field. Who's going to find us here?"

Y/n let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Great plan B, Hamilton. You really thought of everything."

"Of course!"

Despite the joke, they were both aware of the weight of the situation. Their nervousness increased as they approached their destination, as they knew that both the Hamiltons and the Grays would be there.

It wasn't just a challenge to deceive one family, it was two. They had to be on the same page in every detail, but they also had to hide their own conflicting feelings that seemed to threaten to collapse the theater they had created.

The road to the wedding venue was a picture-postcard scene. After miles of green fields and quaint villages, the large, rustic wooden gate finally loomed ahead, flanked by colorful flowers that swayed gently in the wind. Lewis slowed down, and as he passed through the gate, the sound of tires on gravel echoed down the driveway.

The music playing on the car radio made the moment even more perfect.

They drove down a narrow road lined with tall palm trees that created a natural corridor. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows across the hood of the car. In the distance, several small wooden houses appeared, their rustic roofs and balconies adorned with hanging flowers. A small lake glistened to the right, reflecting the blue sky and surrounded by well-tended lawns.

Lewis stopped the car in front of the group of cottages, the engine turning off with a soft rumble. The sound of gravel under the tires was replaced by birdsong and leaves rustling in the wind.

He noticed how restless Y/n was, her fingers playing with the fabric of her long dress. Without thinking twice, Lewis placed a comforting hand on her leg, smirking.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice calm. "If you don't want to do this, we can back out now. Just say the word."

Y/n took a deep breath and gave a nervous but determined smile. "No, I do. I'm just... a little tense. I think it's because I'm officially being promoted from 'best friend' to full-time 'girlfriend'."

Lewis chuckled, squeezing her leg lightly. "You're going to rock. Besides, they already love you. And how could they not, right?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the growing smile. "Are you convincing me or yourself, Hamilton?"

While Lewis got out and opened the trunk to get the bags, Y/n stayed inside the car, observing the little houses more closely. It wasn't long before the excited voices of the families got closer.

The group of people emerged from the entrance of one of the larger cabins, the Hamiltons at the front, followed by the Grays, all smiling and waving.

Lewis's cousin ran up to him first, hugging him warmly. "Lewis! I'm so glad you're here! And... How's Y/n? We were so sad she couldn't come..."

Lewis gave an enigmatic smile, adjusting one of the suitcases on the floor. "Oh, about that..."

Before he could continue, his mother hugged him tightly, grinning from ear to ear. "And who is this special person you wanted us to meet? Are you hiding your game, son?"

He looked at her with a smile that was a mix of amusement and anticipation.

"Actually...you already know her."

At that moment, Y/n got out of the car, adjusting her clothes and walking to stand next to Lewis. Absolute silence took over the two families as everyone's eyes fixed on her, confused and surprised.

Lewis, noticing the nervousness that was beginning to show on Yin's face, gently pulled her by the waist, wrapping her in a side hug. He leaned in a little, whispering close to her ear.

"Relax. You look perfect."

Y/n smiled, the genuine gesture lighting up her face as she returned Lewis's warm gaze.

Finally, surprise began to give way to joy. Lewis's sister was the first to react, letting out an excited scream.

"Wait... you two?! Are you serious?!"

"You said you couldn't come!" One of them says, smiling at Y/n.

"Yeah... surprise..." Y/n smiles, raising her arms. "It was all part of our plan."

They are left open-mouthed with surprise and happiness.

"So Y/n. My sister. Is that the secret person you brought to the wedding?" The physical therapist's brother asks Lewis, still in shock.

Lewis laughs, agreeing with him.

Y/n's parents exchange glances with Lewis's mother. They were surprised but happy with the revelation.

"Why didn't you tell us before?! This is amazing!"

"Oh, you know how the media is, right?" Y/n shuffles her foot uncomfortably on the floor, giving a shy smile.

"Well, I must admit we've been waiting for something like this for a while now." Says Anne, Y/n's mother.

Y/n's father nodded, crossing his arms. "You two have always been so close. It was only a matter of time, wasn't it?"

Carmen laughed softly, excited. "I knew it! I always felt like there was something more between you two, you've been close since you were little. But you hide it well, huh?"

Lewis kept the smile on his face, even though he felt a slight tightness in his chest.

"We thought it would be more fun to reveal the truth when we were together in a special moment like this." He replied, keeping his tone light.

Y/n, although shaken by the families' words, managed to respond in the same tone.

"We wanted to keep things to just the two of us for a while. But with everyone here, it felt like the right time." She says, still hugging Lewis sideways, while squeezing his shoulder even tighter. "And we only ask for one thing, we don't want you to post photos or anything like that on the internet. We're still hiding from the media" Y/n smiles.

"Sure, sure!" Some say together.

"My mouth is a tomb" Y/n's brother says and they laugh.

"We'll keep it just in the family. We promise," Leo, Y/n's father says, placing his hand on Lewis' shoulder. "I'm so glad it's you."

Lewis smiles, his heart clenching even more. For a moment, he wanted all of this to be real, he wanted to admit his feelings to Y/n here and now. But he couldn't.

They both exchanged quick, knowing glances, trying to align themselves emotionally while they digested the weight of those reactions.

The families’ words, so full of affection and anticipation, created a bittersweet feeling. They were happy to see their loved ones so excited, but the weight of the lie hung between them.

Suddenly, Lewis' sister's fiance appeared from behind the group, as they congratulated the newest couple who brought together families that had been close for years, with a smile on their faces.

"Wait, wait, who's our pilot's girlfriend?" As he approached and finally saw Y/n, he stopped in place. His eyes widened as he processed the scene. "Are you... serious?" He looked at Lewis, then at Y/n, and shook his head with a smile of disbelief. "I just can't believe you two are together! Childhood best friends... who would have thought it would end like this?!" He hugged the couple at once.

Lewis frowns a little, not expecting this reaction from the man who made the most fun of his love life.

As the families continued to react, commenting on how they had always waited for this moment, Y/n and Lewis felt their hearts heavy,

The words of support and the looks of joy were genuine, and it shook them in different ways. As much as it was all an act, they were both realizing that the lie was becoming much more emotional than they had anticipated.

The Hamilton and Gray families couldn't contain their excitement as they guided Lewis and Y/n towards the cabin where they would be staying. Excited comments, laughter, and questions flowed in all directions, creating a warm and chaotic atmosphere.

Lewis, carrying the two suitcases, calmly followed the group, occasionally casting an amused glance at Y/n.

She, in turn, answered the questions naturally, following the script they had agreed upon, but her smile revealed a slight nervousness that only Lewis seemed to notice.

"So, Y/n, how did you finally get Lewis to commit?" His aunt asked, laughing.

Y/n smiled, pretending to think. "Ah, it was hard. He's a serious case, but in the end, who can resist, right?"

Laughter echoed through the group as Lewis shook his head, feigning indignation but with a smile on his face.

When they finally arrived at the little house where they would stay, everyone stopped for a moment to admire the place. The people stayed there, only the couple's mothers and Lewis's sister went up the stone stairs with the couple, to the small house where they would stay.

It was a small but incredibly cozy cottage, with light wooden walls and large windows that offered a stunning view of the lake next door. Colorful flowers decorated the path to the entrance, and the soft sound of water completed the tranquility of the environment.

Lewis's sister was the first to speak, handing the key to her brother with a mischievous smile.

"Here it is! You two are going to love this place. And honestly, I knew this day would come. It just takes time..."

"Shut up," Lewis interrupted in a whisper, giving her a sharp look, but with a slight hint of humor. The sister laughed, as she knew her brother had feelings for her best friend.

But the thing she didn't know was that the relationship was fake.

Lewis’s mother interjected softly, turning around with a warm smile. Anne was beside her, smiling too. They were so immersed in a conversation about flowers that they didn’t even hear the two brothers teasing each other.

"We'll leave you alone to explore the cabin. Take the opportunity to settle in and rest a little."

"Thank you" Y/n smiles.

The two of them were silent as they watched their mothers and sister walk away, giving each other expectant looks and knowing smiles before disappearing down the path.

When the last one disappeared from sight, Lewis handed the key to Y/n.

"Your turn," he said, with a smile.

Y/n took the key and opened the door, revealing a spacious and tastefully decorated room. The bed, large and comfortable, was adorned with a cute kit, a bottle of wine, two glasses and chocolates and rose petals spread across the entire surface. The windows looked out over the lake, with the reflection of the sky creating a soft, almost magical glow on the water.

Y/n chuckled as she saw the decor, walking slowly around the room as she took in the details.

They really went all out for a couple in love...

She thought, amused by the irony of living this with Lewis.

Lewis followed close behind, dropping his bags by the door and chuckling at the sight of the room. "Well, they've definitely gone overboard on the romantic thing. I think they're expecting an engagement announcement tomorrow."

Y/n chuckled, giving him an amused look.

"You think? I think we forgot to include that in the script."

Lewis watched her reaction, the sincere smile that lit up Y/n's face, and took a few steps towards her.

"You know we can deny anything at any time, right? You just have to say the word, and we'll be done with it.

He was so close that Y/n felt her heart race. When he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the gentle touch made her breath catch for a moment.

Y/n sighed lightly, trying to regain control, and gave a nervous smile. "And miss the chance to see more reactions from our families? No way."

They laughed together, but deep down, Y/n knew the truth was different. Being there, pretending to be something more with Lewis, made her feel something different, as if, for a weekend, she could experience what it was like to have him not only as a best friend, but as something more.

The thought made her look away for a moment, while the smile remained on her lips.

They came back to reality when several knocks on the door interrupted the silence, with two soft children's voices.

"Uncle Lew! Uncle Lew. We heard you're dating Aunt Y/n!!" The knocking continued, making the fake couple inside the room laugh. "Open up! Open up! We want to see her!"

Lewis and Y/n laugh, walking away and the pilot walking to the door.

"Are we going to have to lie to your nephews too?" She whispers, walking to the door as well, a pout on her lips.

"Unfortunately, dear." Lewis smiles and then opens the door, with the two children entering and running to hug Y/n. "Hey, what about me?"

The children laugh.

••••••••••••••••••••

Next day.

Lewis and Y/n's first day as a fake couple in the presence of both families was a constant test. Between forced smiles that gradually seemed natural and rehearsed responses, the two needed absolute harmony.

Early in the morning, while they were having coffee together with their families, someone asked how they divided up the house. Y/n hesitated for a second, but Lewis, without missing a beat, replied that she was responsible for meals and he was responsible for breakfast.

She gave him a surprised look, but soon joined in the joke, laughing and saying that he overdid it with salt. The lightness of the moment drew laughter from her relatives, but inside, their hearts were racing.

Later, while walking in the countryside with their cousins and childhood friends and Lewis's sister, the subject turned to their first kiss.

Y/n tried to hide it, but Lewis held her hand and gave her a knowing look. He began to describe exactly how they had agreed weeks before, even adding something extra as he spoke excitedly, as if it were real. She followed his story, laughing inside at how he could tell something so convincing.

There were also nervous moments, like when Y/n's grandmother suggested, "You guys should start thinking about having kids. With a connection like that, the kids would be beautiful!"

They both laughed nervously, trying to change the subject, while feeling the heat rise to their faces.

But as challenging as it was, spending the day together as a fake couple also made them realize how much they knew each other and how compatible they were.

The shared laughter, the exchanged glances and the ease with which they dealt with delicate situations only reinforced what they were both afraid to admit: this was starting to feel frighteningly real.

Night came, and in the cabin, Y/n finished applying her makeup in front of a mirror while Lewis sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting the laces of his white sneakers.

The room was lit with a soft light, and the open curtains revealed a view of trees lit by small lanterns scattered across the field.

"I finally got John to stop interrogating me." Lewis commented casually, looking at Y/n in the mirror.

She smiled as she put away her lipstick. "That's because you basically implied that I won you over with my irresistible charm."

"It wasn't a lie," he whispered, looking at the floor with an amused smile.

Y/n stopped for a moment, she had listened. And then, he pretended to roll his eyes to hide the blush he felt. And he decided to ignore it and make another comment.

"But you know what..." She puts her makeup back in her bag. "Today at lunch he was looking at us like he knew something was wrong."

"John is suspicious by nature," Lewis said, standing up and releasing his braids from their updo. "But I think he's starting to accept it. Maybe he's even jealous." He stops at the mirror for a moment, next to Y/n, to fix his braided hair.

"Yeah, because dating you is a prize," Y/n joked, winking at him.

"And isn't it?" he retorted with a smile.

She rolls her eyes, pushing his silhouette away, making the pilot laugh.

"Come on, Hamilton! We have to leave now, so we don't get late." She walks to the bedroom door.

It should also be noted that it was their first night sleeping in the same bed as a fake couple, a fake couple. But still a couple.

Although it wasn't the first time they shared a bed, the circumstances were different now. As children, sleeping in the same bed was something innocent, nights at each other's houses after playing late, or even family trips where improvising a shared bed was part of the fun.

More recently, the comfortable intimacy was still there, as in the time when Mercedes forgot to reserve a room for Y/n during a Grand Prix. Without hesitation, he offered his room, and in the absence of sofas or extra beds, they ended up sleeping together. At the time, Y/n jokingly piled pillows in the middle of the bed, saying it was: "A security barrier to keep you from invading my space, Hamilton." He laughed, but respected it.

Now, though, things were different. They weren't kids anymore, nor were they innocent best friends sharing a space out of necessity. There was a new layer between them—the game they were playing, pretending to be a couple, and the pent-up feelings that seemed to be growing with each interaction.

When they were ready, the two left the cottage where their room was, and walked through the illuminated field. The dew-wet grass shone under the lantern lights.

Lewis, realizing that they were about to enter a place filled with happy looks from both families, stopped and extended his hand to his crush.

"Hold my hand. There's no point in us arriving separately."

Y/n frowned a little, but soon intertwined her fingers with his. The touch was warm and comfortable, and even though she knew it was part of the plan, she felt a tightness in her chest.

"You really take this seriously," she teased, giving the pilot's hand a gentle squeeze.

"I just want to look convincing," Lewis replied with a smile, but his eyes betrayed a deeper feeling. And Y/n noticed.

As they walked hand in hand, Y/n couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if this wasn't a theater.

The large space where the bride and groom's dinner would take place was stunning. Shades of cream, green and gold decorated the space, with tall floral arrangements on round tables and small lights hanging from the ceiling, creating a magical atmosphere. The colors of the wedding invitation were present in every detail, from the napkins to the chairs decorated with bows.

Y/n was wearing a long black and white crochet dress, with firm stitches so that no part of her body was visible and this highlighted her curves in the right way, matching perfectly with her heels. Lewis, on the other hand, looked impeccable in a formal suit, a white button-down shirt, dress pants and a pair of classic sneakers on his feet.

When they walked in, hand in hand, all eyes turned to them. Family and friends of the bride and groom, who had arrived that morning, began to smile.

"They're perfect together," Hamilton commented.

"I always knew this would happen," Y/n's younger brother whispers to his girlfriend.

Y/n felt heat rise on her skin as she heard the comments, while Lewis lightly squeezed her hand. They both exchanged quick glances, almost as if trying to confirm what the other was feeling.

"They really look like a couple in love," Anne, Y/n's mother commented to Carmen, who agreed with a proud smile.

Y/n and Lewis heard enough to feel the weight of the words. The comments were sweet, but they carried with them a truth that they were both beginning to face and for a moment, the desire to confess how they felt grew.

However, silently, they both decided to keep everything as it was, at least for now. After all, the confusion in their hearts was already enough to deal with without adding new layers to that delicately constructed lie.

Lewis and Y/n walked through the room, hand in hand as if they were a long-time couple in love, until they found their designated table. There were Carmen, Y/n's parents and brothers, beyond the space reserved for them.

The conversations at the table died down for a moment as the couple approached, and everyone's eyes turned to them.

"You both look radiant tonight," Anne commented with a warm smile. "As if the paths were set in stone from motherhood."

Literally. They were born in the same maternity ward, with Y/n arriving into the world a week apart from Lewis.

Carmen, sitting nearby, nodded as she studied the two. "Seriously, son, I've never seen you this happy. And you, Y/n, look stunning. We're lucky to have you officially in the family now."

Y/n felt like she was going to cry at Hamilton's mother's sweet words, while Lewis, always confident, just thanked her with a smile.

However, the look they exchanged immediately afterwards was full of meaning, a half-smile of complicity, mixed with something that not even they themselves could admit.

A short time later, Lewis's sister, who had been walking around the room greeting guests, stopped behind him, placing her hands on her brother's shoulders.

"I knew this moment would come. You've finally officially united our families, and not just because of your friendship. I'm so happy." With a wide smile, she looked at Y/n.

The families around laughed, agreeing with comments of joy and satisfaction. Y/n gave Lewis a quick glance, and he returned the gesture, both smiling sideways, with the pilot's hand on her knee, as a comforting way, but with their thoughts racing.

As comforting as it was to see the happy families, the weight of the lie and the intensity of their own feelings were starting to become difficult to ignore. What had once been just planned theater was becoming something more complicated and emotionally challenging.

Dinner was lively, with impeccable dishes being served while conversations flowed around the table. However, for Lewis and Y/n, the evening began to become a mix of fun and tension. They talked, laughed and even told the story they had rehearsed weeks before about how they started dating, when someone at the table asked.

As the glasses of wine and champagne were emptied, the emotional barrier between them seemed to disappear. They both knew they were drinking more than they should, perhaps as a way to numb the feelings that were becoming more and more evident.

Between laughs and long glances, they let out small gestures that seemed genuinely in love, even though they knew they were exaggerating for the audience around them. But deep down, maybe they weren't just pretending.

By the time dinner was over and the music started playing, Lewis and Y/n were both drunk. He pulled her closer, mumbling something about how beautiful she looked that night, while Y/n, unable to contain herself, laughed and replied something equally affectionate. They were both openly flirting now, under the guise of drinking and pretense.

But of course, with all the alcohol they had consumed, something was bound to get out of hand.

Now, hours and hours after dinner was over and everyone had returned to their rooms, the fake couple's room was filled with mess, pillows, cushions and clothes they had used before, thrown on the floor.

Y/n was wrapped in a blanket, staring at the wall in front of her. The large tattoo she had on her collarbone was on full display, shining beneath the dim light of the room, while her hair was a mess. Because the pilot made sure to run his fingers over every inch of her body.

Lewis, on the other hand, had the blanket around his waist, his arms crossed on his lap, while the tattoos on his bare chest were also exposed. He looked at the clothes scattered on the floor, absorbing everything that had happened in the last few hours and how he had had sex with his best friend. I mean, the love of his life. Of course.

They were still slightly drunk, but they were sure to remember this event the next morning.

"That was crazy," Y/n says quietly, turning her head to look at Lewis.

The pilot turns around, but still leaning against the headboard. "Crazy. But good...very goooood. Great!" He emphasizes and Y/n widens her eyes, slowly nodding.

"Definitely," she says, pulling the sheet up. And biting her bottom lip.

They look back where they were looking before, until Y/n turns to him, with a questioning look now.

"Do you want to go again? I feel like I'm still a little drunk to ask the question."

"Of course!" He says without a second thought, pulling her into a hot, passionate kiss.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Lewis's sister's wedding day.

Y/n woke up with the first rays of sunlight hitting her face. She opened her eyes and felt an arm around her waist, while a hand was stuck in her hair and her legs were tangled with Lewis's.

Then she lets out a sigh, remembering the night before. She had slept with Lewis. And not in the lie-down-close-your-eyes-and-sleep sense. In the sense that they had sex. Drunken sex.

An involuntary smile left her lips, even though she thought it was wrong.

She got up quickly, trying not to make any noise so as not to wake Lewis. The wedding was late in the morning, and the women of the families had already arranged to get ready together.

She put on whatever clothes were in her suitcase and left, ignoring her dress lying on the floor next to Lewis's discarded clothes as well.

The pilot woke up some time later, alone. Y/n's side of the bed was already cold. He ran his hand over his face, feeling his head a little heavy, and looked around. Their clothes were thrown on the floor, a reminder of the night before. He lay back on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling, as flashes of the night before passed through his mind. Y/n's laughter, the intense looks, the touches, the kisses.

The line between fake and real had definitely been crossed, and that left something undeniably different between them.

And Y/n seemed to do her best to avoid Lewis.

Whenever he came near, she found an excuse to leave, her face flushing slightly as she remembered what they had done. Despite her calm exterior, inside, she was a whirlwind. The idea of being so close to Lewis now made her nervous, not in a bad way.

While she was being made up, Lewis finally found her alone, waiting for the make-up artist, who had gone out to get something. He walked into the room with a somewhat hesitant but determined expression.

"Hey!" He smiles.

Y/n opens her eyes and leans back in her chair, seeing Lewis there. And then, her heart starts to race faster and faster.

"Hey!" She smiles, trying not to look nervous.

"The day dawned beautiful today for the wedding," he says relaxedly, trying to make the tension go away after what happened last night.

"Yeah. Your sister must be happy with the sun coming out." Y/n looked at the green robe she was wearing and lightly poked the fabric.

Lewis nods and looks at the woman. He sighs deeply before finally speaking.

"About yesterday..." He began, looking at her.

"We had too much to drink, Lewis. It was crazy," she says quickly, but never hinting at regret.

Lewis shakes his head. "Sure, that. It was crazy." He says gesturing with his hands.

The two remain silent for a while, looking at each other and remembering what they did last night. They would confess some time later, that that night was the best they had in their lives.

"Okay. I'll be going then. You need to put on your makeup and I need to get ready too." Lewis says and Y/n nods, swallowing hard. "See you at the wedding."

"Sure, sure. Yes." She says trying not to sound nervous, but clearly failing. Lewis smiles at that.

"See you later, doll" He winks, leaving Y/n completely dizzy in the room.

She leans back in her chair again, sighing and biting her lower lip as her mind races through memories of Lewis roaming her body.

They both knew that this was more than just the effects of the drink. They had crossed the line between friendship and theater, and that was something they couldn't ignore.

When the wedding finally arrived, the setting looked like something out of a fairy tale. The altar was set in an open field, surrounded by flowering trees that swayed gently in the wind. White chairs were arranged in perfect rows, decorated with small flower arrangements that matched the palette of the invitation.

The guests took their seats and the groomsmen and bridesmaids walked down the aisle. Lewis, as his sister's best man, walked in with one of his cousins, flashing an easy, confident smile.

However, as he passed by the row where Y/n was sitting, his eyes found her. The passionate look he gave her was impossible to ignore. Y/n, feeling the impact of that, smiled back, showing a look full of affection and love. She winked with one eye and Lewis laughed lightly, walking to the altar.

The bride appeared next, causing the guests to gasp. She looked radiant, and the groom, visibly moved, was waiting for her at the altar. When the ceremony began, the environment was permeated with an almost palpable energy. Y/n, sitting among her family, couldn't hold back her tears as the vows were exchanged. She wiped her tears casually with her fingertips, but Lewis from the altar noticed and couldn't help but smile softly.

During the ceremony, Lewis and Y/n's eyes met more than once. It was as if they were having a silent conversation, full of feelings that could not be expressed there. At a moment when the vows were especially emotional, Lewis leaned a little to the side and, almost imperceptibly, whispered:

"I love you."

The words were spoken with such sincerity that they hit Y/n hard. She felt a lump form in her throat as more tears welled up in her eyes. Pretending to still be emotional about the ceremony, she lowered her head to hide it, but her heart was beating fast.

And of course, when the bride and groom accepted the engagement, Lewis couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it were him and Y/n there at the altar. She in a beautiful and expensive white wedding dress, with tears streaming down her face as he placed the ring on her finger and declared all his love for the girl - now woman, who he had loved since they were children.

And they both knew that this was beyond acting, and maybe it was finally time to stop pretending.

The bride and groom’s reception was as enchanting as the ceremony had been. Under a blue sky with clouds, a vast open space in the countryside hosted the celebration. Rows of flowers hanging from wires softly highlighted the surroundings, creating a magical atmosphere. In the background, the lake reflected the brightness of the sun’s rays.

Y/n was deep in conversation about her work with some of Lewis’s aunts and cousins. They seemed fascinated by her stories and asked questions, while she responded with a warm and excited smile, gesturing to emphasize her points.

Meanwhile, Lewis watched her from afar, with a soft smile on his face. The pilot approached and lightly touched her arm, catching her attention.

Y/n turned around, smiling when she saw him.

"Hey, could I borrow my Y/n for a little while?" He asked, his voice light but his eyes filled with something deeper.

Lewis's cousins smiled knowingly and nodded quickly. "Sure, we'll talk later, Y/n," they said, leaving the couple alone.

Y/n agreed smiling, watching them leave until they were far away from her and Hamilton.

The Mercedes team physiotherapist turned her gaze to Lewis, the smile still on her face, but her heart already starting to race as she noticed how stunning he looked in that impeccable outfit.

She sipped some champagne from her glass and joked, "What do you want from me, Sir Lewis Hamilton?"

He rolled his eyes slightly, laughing.

"I want to talk to you," he said, his voice lower, almost hesitant, but carrying an intensity that made her alert.

She nodded, her eyes scanning his face as he stepped closer. His unmistakable scent invaded her senses, and Y/n felt a warmth grow in her chest.

"But... away from people," he added, giving her a quiet smile.

Y/n frowned slightly, puzzled, but tried to appear calm. She set the glass down on the nearest table and followed Lewis. He held her hand firmly, his fingers intertwined with hers, gently pulling her through the flower field.

They walked towards the lake, where a small wooden bridge spanned the serene water. The structure was decorated with small arrangements of white flowers, reflecting in the lake like stars dancing on the surface.

Y/n felt her heart beating fast, both because of the scenery and because of Lewis's presence beside her. He stopped in the middle of the bridge, slowly letting go of her hand and leaning against the railing, looking out at the water. She stood next to him, leaning against the railing too, feeling the cool breeze caress her skin and his eyes meet hers.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked, her voice shaking slightly, trying to maintain her composure, but already beginning to imagine what would come next.

Lewis took a deep breath, his gaze so sincere and vulnerable that it made Y/n hold her breath. He knew it was now or never.

His gaze was more intense than ever, as if he was gathering the courage to say something he had been holding back for a long time.

"Lewis??" She asked, but he held up his hand, as if asking for a moment to speak.

"Just listen to me for a minute, okay?" He took a deep breath, looking away from the lake for a moment before turning back to her. "I've thought of a thousand ways to say this. Actually, I've tried not to say it. I've tried to convince myself that this was a stupid idea, that it could ruin everything, but..." He paused, laughing humorlessly. "After last night... I can't pretend it's not happening anymore. I've never been good with words when it comes to you. But you've always been more than just my best friend, Y/n. Ever since we were kids, I felt something about you that I didn't know exactly what it meant, but then when we reached adolescence, I realized that I loved you. I loved you as more than a best friend... I was already crazy about you. And I tried to put it aside because I thought it was the right thing to do, because you were too important to risk. But now... Now I'm here, in the middle of this bridge, and all I can think is that if I don't tell you how I feel, I'll regret it for the rest of my life... Y/n Gray, I love you. With every fiber of my being, I love you. And I'm not saying this as a friend, I'm saying this as someone who wants to cross that line, who wants to be your boyfriend, fiancé, husband and father of our babies. And if I'm messing this up, just slap me in the face and yell at me, and I'll understand too..."

Y/n laughed at the last sentence and bit her lips, as if trying to stop the tears from falling violently from her eyes. God, she had been waiting for this confession for years, and lately she thought it would never come, but here they are, declaring their love for each other.

"I'm not going to slap you or yell at you." She laughs, wiping away her tears. "On the contrary, I'm going to tell you that I love you too. Because yes, I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I love you beyond friendship, beyond everything we've been for 35 years. I love you romantically, and I also hope to be your girlfriend, fiancée, wife, and mother of our babies." She smiles, now with Lewis smiling and tears falling from his eyes. "And I confess that I tried to ignore that too. For years. I convinced myself that you deserved more, that our friendship was enough, that it wasn't worth risking." She laughs softly, the sound almost sad. "But I think last night took away all the excuses I had... That we had."

He lifted one hand, cupping her face gently, his thumb tracing a gentle path across her cheek.

"So maybe... we can stop risking everything by just being friends."

She laughed, a lone tear escaping, and Lewis quickly wiped it away. "Is that your way of saying you want us to stop pretending?"

"It's my way of saying that I don't want to pretend with you anymore," he replied, leaning in slowly.

Y/n closed her eyes, her heart beating so fast it seemed to echo in the silence around her. And then, his lips met hers, warm, soft and full of everything they had kept for years. It was a kiss that didn't need words, a different kiss than the one from the night before. Less drunk and rushed.

Y/n smiles between the kiss, when she feels Lewis's hand move further down her back.

When they pull apart, Lewis sees Y/n's loving gaze. "Well, is it too early to ask you out for real?"

She smiles, shaking her head.

"Okay then," he kneels down. "I don't have a ring here right now, but Y/n Gray... Will you date me? Officially? No rehearsed lines or plans in a notebook?"

Y/n laughs, crouching down a little. "Yes, Lew. I accept!" She smiles.

Lewis quickly gets up, picking Y/n up and spinning her around in the air, giving her several little kisses on the face before placing her on the ground and pulling her into a tight hug. With Y/n's face buried in the pilot's neck.

"You know what?" Lewis asks and Y/n questions. "The sex yesterday was good!"

She stands up, looking at him in disbelief, while having a mischievous smile on her face. Y/n lightly hits her boyfriend's chest.

"Hey, can you stop ruining cute moments like this with dirty comments?" She teases, making Lewis laugh and pull her into his embrace.

And after years and years, the two finally felt complete and with a weight off their bodies. They finally belonged to each other.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #marriage #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #fem reader #lovers

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fumekara · 10 months ago

Text

ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE (Final part)

SatoSugu x Gn reader

Plot: Your relationship with the strongest sorcerers in Japan was falling apart after they yelled at you and broke your heart.

n/a: English is not my first language, there will be a final part of this writing experiment, I am not very satisfied with how it came out. I know this is probably not the ending you were expecting.

Tw: A lot of angst, fluff, comfort, mention of sex, polyamorous relationship, mention of the death of one's pet, the reader has a cat, in this version Geto is a sorcerer.

If you are sensitive to mourning for your pets, do not interact with this fic.

WC: 2K

Click here for part 1 part2

You woke up blinded by the sunlight filtering through your bedroom window. Your eyes were swollen and sore from crying the night before. You felt a lack at the side of your bed and realized that Satoru and Suguru were not with you. Still groggy from waking up, you sat up and turned your attention to the bedside table to your left to check what time it was. You noticed, however, a glass of water, a muffin and a note with a message written on it that you were sure were not there the night before. You take the note in your hand and immediately recognise Suguru's handwriting.

We went out on an errand, we'll be back soon'.

Sighing, you brought the note to your face, as if trying to get something from it, like the warmth of the people who had cradled you and held you in their arms yesterday.

You didn't know where they might have gone, but you wanted to be with them, wanting to understand at all costs what would become of you from now on.

You had met the boys through Shoko, who was a close friend of yours in university days and had introduced you to her friends when you had all gone out together to celebrate your graduation. Although you were a bit shy at first and talked only to Shoko when you were sitting at a karaoke table, you managed to have a rather pleasant conversation with the two boys.

As time went by, you became more and more friendly with each other and went out more and more often with Gojo and Geto, even when Shoko wasn't with you, you enjoyed their company, you liked the fact that Gojo and Geto were so different, but still managed to find their stability in being together. They soon grew fond of you and began to be more open with you, their trust in you had strengthened and they showed genuine happiness in being with you. As a result, you could not help but have feelings for them, which gradually grew as your friendship continued.

You had become friends and remained friends even when Gojo and Geto got together. You knew it would happen sooner or later from the way they treated each other, plus you knew their history, since they had confided in you, during one of the evenings spent together watching movies, that they had been through a lot of bad times together. You were happy for them, really, but a part of you was unhappy that you could not be part of that unbreakable bond.

At the time you were living together, after graduation you had decided to look for a flat in Tokyo to start your career, and since they had a spare room at home, they offered to put you up.

You were sure you would only inconvenience the couple and didn't know what your life would be like knowing you were living under the same roof as them. You hadn't told anyone about your feelings for them, not even Shoko. They assured you that they would be happier to have you as a roommate and that you could never be a nuisance, since you were a close friend of theirs, and that they would never allow you to live in a dingy cheap flat until you finally settled down with your job.

And so you did, you went to live with them and were relieved that they both agreed to let you take Nuko with you. Moreover, living with them was great from day one. When you got up in the morning, you would find Suguru in the kitchen preparing breakfast and greeting you with a 'Good morning love', showing you his beautiful smile as always. Gojo, who to tease you would put some items on the shelves and top shelves and then laugh when you got nervous with him because you couldn't reach them, and every time he would muss your hair with his hand when he returned it to you doing his usual cheeky grin. Sometimes you would fall asleep on the sofa with your legs tangled during movie nights, sometimes both of you and sometimes you would spend evenings sitting on the sofa late into the night talking about silly things, deep thoughts about the most existential questions or the doubts and fears that tormented you.

Even when you managed to settle down in Tokyo and in your job you stayed living with them and they were fine with that.

Everything changed the day they asked you to become part of their relationship. They had both grown fond of you and, although at first you thought they had asked you in order to offer you a friendship with benefits, you realized that the more time passed, the more your triangular relationship turned into something absolutely wonderful. The months spent with them made you feel happy and fulfilled and you felt complete.

But now what was left, what would become of you from now on?.

________

At noon it began to rain and meanwhile you were preparing lunch while waiting for Satoru and Suguru to return. As you boiled the rice, you turned your head towards the bowl still full from the day before yesterday that lay in the corner of the kitchen floor and once belonged to Nuko. You sighed sadly and went back to work, deciding to chop some vegetables.

Suddenly you heard the sound of keys turning the lock of the front door: they were back.

"Hey, Y/N, where are you?" you heard Satoru call out to you. "I'm in the kitchen," you replied, continuing to cut.

Hearing their footsteps heading towards the kitchen, you decided to turn around and not look back. "I'm making saffron rice for lunch," you said not knowing what to do in that situation.

You turned your head slightly for a moment and then returned to what you were doing. You saw them on the threshold of the kitchen door, both slightly wet and Satoru was holding something in his hand, although you saw it in passing without realizing what it was.

You could feel their gazes on you and you were sure they wanted to talk about what had happened in the last two days and that perhaps it would lead to you breaking up.

"Y/N can you come here for a moment?" asked Satoru in an extremely quiet and gentle way. "I'm cutting Toru here," you replied, hoping that would be enough to avoid talking to them until you heard them approaching further. "Y/N, please look," Suguru added in the same tone.

You heaved a sigh surrendering to what now seemed inevitable and turned toward them.

What you saw left you speechless.

Satoru was holding what appeared to be a kitten only a few months old lying in the sorcerer's arms. Both men looked at you with an expression of regret.

You stood for a moment confused by the scene before you. You tried with all your might to say something, but nothing sensible came out of your mouth except a series of quivering babble. "Come here," Suguru told you softly, extending his hand for you to come closer.

You slowly approached them to get a better look, and Satoru gave you the kitten so you could hold it. You heard him meowing and that seemed to awaken you from your trance-like state, and staring at him better you saw that he had Nuko's gray fur. You were so astonished that you did not notice that both men's eyes had glazed over with tears at your reaction to their gift.

"I don't understand...," you said in a trembling voice, "why you...I...I don't...." Unable to finish the sentence, you looked up at them feeling the tears flow down your cheeks.

At this point they hugged you and exactly like you let the tears flow.

"Y/N we are so sorry, for everything, I mean it, forgive us," Gojo said rubbing his forehead with yours as he sobbed undaunted like you had never seen from him. "We didn't mean to say those things to you, you didn't deserve it and we were so stupid to let us talk to you like that, sorry, please forgive us, sorry." You looked into his eyes before he planted a series of kisses on your face wet with your tears.

Suguru took your face in his large hands so that you could see him face to face, and you saw him completely destroyed by the situation you had put yourselves in. "We love you Y/N," he said, "We really love you and we are sorry to have made you feel so long." . Before you could say anything, he softly kissed your lips, letting you both drift away from the intensity of the emotions you were feeling at that moment. He pulled away from you as if to get some air, before returning to kiss your face as Satoru had done.

"We don't want to lose you Y/N, you are the most precious thing we have."

Satoru turned your head and kissed you at the corners of your lips as he wiped away your tears in an attempt to comfort you and then went back to talking. "I know this won't be enough to make us forgive each other, but know that we have talked about it and we both agree that we are both in love with you and don't want to lose you and that we will do everything to get your forgiveness and make you feel loved as you deserve. Even if it takes a lifetime, we will make sure that neither of us will come back to make you feel as bad as we do these days. We want to love you as we love you right now."

"Don't feel obligated after this Y/N, but..." both of them left you some space "please forgive us for everything. Give us a chance to let you know how sorry we are."

You continued to cry as Suguru rubbed a hand on your back to make you calm down and Satoru took the kitten from your hands and then placed it on the ground so as not to overwhelm you.

"You... that's why you went out this morning," you sniffed, "but how?" and leaned down to pet the kitten who purred at your attention.

"Mrs. Momaru had mentioned to us some time ago that her cat had had kittens, and we went to her to ask if there were any left," Satoru told you as they both snuggled with you. You knew Mrs. Momaru; she was your neighbor, an elderly lady with a heart of gold.

"We're sorry about what happened to Nuko, we were hoping she could lift your spirits," Suguru told you uncertainly, "I know she won't be able to replace him, but...."

"I love her," you interrupted him and turned toward them. Now that you had calmed down, you were ready to say how you felt, "I love you guys and I want to be with you, but it will take time before I can forgive you completely," you said and they took your hands gently.

"We understand Y/N," Suguru whispered, kissing your hand.

"We will make sure you never feel this way again, we promise," Satoru said, as they wrapped you again in a loving, desperate embrace and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace.

It might have taken time to forgive them, but there was still hope between you.

Taglist: @qualitygiantshoepsychic @dark1paradise @mel1mak @tatahungry @aish777

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libraryraccoon · 11 months ago

Text

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

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jellyfishsthings · 11 months ago

Text

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x female reader #oliver bearman #oliver bearman x reader #oliver bearman imagine #formula 1 #formula 2

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eufezco · 2 years ago

Text

SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

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maidragoste · 4 months ago

Note

hey hun! im sorry for your loss and i saw u post abt needing distracting. so could u write a jace x reader? it could be any plot you want whatsoever and could it be a modern au? as well fluffy! is that okay?

Hi, how are you?

Thank you for your message 💖 I'm sorry it took me so long to upload your request (in the end it cost me more than I thought to recover and then university and trying to find a job overwhelmed me) but I hope you like the result 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

It hadn't really been Jacaerys' intention to wait for you to come back from your date. He should be doing some college work but instead, he's watching TV without paying attention to it thinking about how the hours are passing and you still haven't come home. Your date should be fun if you don't text Jace anymore. Jace shouldn't be worried about you because he knew Rhaena would never have set you up with an idiot but he still couldn't help being worried.

Jacaerys wanted you to come home and see if you were okay. It would hurt him to hear the details of your date and see you all excited about another boy but he would bear it.

If only Jace wasn’t afraid of ruining things between you two then he would have taken you out himself after hearing you complain about how your love life is dead instead of letting Rhaena set you up with one of her friends. But Jacaerys is sure that you don’t see him as more than a friend and he doesn’t want to risk losing you so he doesn’t make a move. He's content with being able to be in your life, with the chaotic mornings of the two of you getting ready before going to class, with your text messages telling him everything that happens to you during the day, with the nights cooking together and with the breaks where you watch series snuggled together on the couch.

Jacaerys looks away from the TV as he hears the keys clicking into the lock. You walk in and Jace feels a pit in his stomach because you don’t look excited, you look defeated? Your eyes meet his and you give him a tired smile but you quickly break eye contact to take off your coat and sneakers and then run to the couch with him.

“So you wanna talk about it?” Jacaerys doesn’t even finish asking how much you’re already talking.

“It was fine. He’s nice and we talked for hours. Everything was going well until the end because he tried to kiss me.” If you hadn’t been busy fidgeting nervously you would have noticed how your roommate seemed to tense up all of a sudden. “I declined and he wasn’t bothered but it was awkward.” You sighed.

“Why did you reject him? Are you the kind of person who has a rule of not kissing on the first date?”

“Because I don’t like him” you declared, suddenly looking up and for a moment, at the intensity of your gaze, Jace forgot to breathe. “I could be his friend, but I’m not interested in him in any other way.”

“Oh” was the only thing that came out of the surprised man’s mouth.

“Oh,” you repeated, “Why did you wait for me, Jace?”

“Who said I was waiting for you? I was watching TV” he denied instantly.

“Jace”

Seeing your beautiful eyes looking at him pleadingly for a moment, Jace was afraid to give in and confess everything to you, as for more than a year he can’t stop thinking about you and wants to be more than your friend. But again, he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable and losing your friendship, so he asks instead.

“What does that have to do with you not liking your date?”

“While I was with him I realized that I actually wanted to be home with you” you confessed and instantly regretted it when you saw that he remained silent. “Forget it. I'm sorry for making it weird” You got up ready to go to your room so you could have a crisis alone about ruining your friendship with Jace when he took you by the hand and pulled you causing you to end up on top of him.

“Oh no, I don’t plan on forgetting it, not when I’ve been pining for you for over a year,” he stated making you smile.

“You’re a coward,” you mocked without malice. “Over a year and you never made a move. You’re lucky I decided to act.”

“You’re right,” he said smiling unbothered. “Now that we’ve established that I’m a fool and you’re the best, can I kiss you?” he asked and you laughed feeling delighted with him.

“Try not to sound so desperate to kiss me.”

“Can you blame me?” He arched an eyebrow, any embarrassment or fear he felt disappearing the moment he knew his feelings were reciprocated. “I thought a lot about kissing you and I finally have the chance.”

At his confession, you felt heat on your face and your smile grew. “You're such a fool.” You took his face in your hands and felt your heart warm at the softness with which Jace looked at you.

The moment your lips touched his Jacaerys knew he would become addicted to your kisses. He would look for any excuse to kiss you as many times as he wanted. You would probably become the clingy couple that his friends would make fun of. But he didn't care and he didn't think you would either because you were kissing him with the same intensity.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson @jacesvelaryons @pictureofcaroline

hotd masterlist

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awbublie · 3 months ago

Text

wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

234 notes · View notes

eu-nicola · 2 months ago

Text

not yours part 3

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: cheating maybe (yes)

word counter: 8960

author’s note: english is not my first language, penultimate part

tags: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @immyowndefender @tmlinsito

The days began to change subtly, as if something in the air had become different. Rafe was moving away from Sofia, but not in an obvious way. At first, they were small details that went unnoticed: messages that arrived late, plans that were cancelled with a vague excuse, and an increasingly frequent absent look.

Sofia, always sure of her relationship, tried to justify it. Maybe he was busy, maybe he needed time for himself. But with each passing day, the uneasiness grew in her, until she could no longer ignore it. There was something that didn't fit, a distance that wasn't there before.

One afternoon, while they were at your house, you noticed how his gestures had changed. His eyes no longer shone with the same confidence as before, and his hands nervously played with the cup of coffee. Although she tried to appear calm, the weight of doubt was wearing her down.

In silence, you listened to his words. She told you what had been going on: the distance, the excuses, the feeling that Rafe was somewhere else even when they were together.

Guilt settled in your chest. You knew that you had contributed, however silently, to that gap that now existed between them. Ever since that night when you almost crossed a line with Rafe, everything had changed. You had done everything you could to distance yourself, avoiding encounters, making excuses not to be around them. But the truth kept chasing you, and it seemed to be catching up with Rafe too.

Sofia tried to understand it, justify it, find a reason that would give her peace. But there was none. Rafe was distant because his mind was stuck somewhere else… or someone else.

“He’s always been so attentive to me,” she began, searching your eyes as if she could find an answer in them. “But now… now I barely feel him around.”

He asked you for advice, but you drew a blank. What could you say to him? The words seemed to get stuck in your throat, unable to come out.

You tried to comfort her. You told her that maybe it was a phase, that all couples go through difficult times. You assured her that Rafe loved her, even though your own words sounded hollow to you. Sofia wanted to believe it, and you wanted her to, because facing the truth would be too complicated.

You hugged her, trying to convey a security you didn’t feel. You knew she trusted you, that she always had. But this time, you felt like you were betraying that trust, caught between loyalty to your friend and the emotions that tied you to Rafe.

When Sofia left that afternoon, you were left alone, with too many thoughts running through your mind. Guilt invaded you once again.

Later that same night, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Rafe.

“Can we talk?”

You stared at the screen, hesitating. You knew the right thing to do would be to ignore it, to keep the distance you had tried to establish. But something inside you, that attraction you had been denying, made you hesitate.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you finally wrote, trying to maintain the firmness that was already beginning to fade.

The answer came almost immediately. "Please."

Your phone screen remained lit with Rafe’s last message. “Please,” he had typed. Just two words that echoed in your mind, like an echo that refused to go away. You tried to ignore it, to remember all the reasons why you shouldn’t get involved, but something in you gave in. Something always gave in when it came to him.

Finally, you gave in. You texted him a brief “Okay,” and before you could think twice, he replied with a clear address. “Come to my house. Sofia won’t be in tonight.”

Guilt crawled under your skin as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys. You knew you shouldn’t go, but your feet seemed to have a mind of their own. You walked through the door of your house, knowing that at the end of this night, nothing would get better.

When you arrived at the mansion, the air was thick, heavy with unspoken words and repressed feelings. Rafe was waiting for you at the entrance, his intense gaze fixed on you from the moment you got out of the car. You didn't say anything at first, just walked in with a firm step, as if the decision to go there didn't weigh on you as much as it actually did.

The door closed behind you with a dry sound, isolating you from the outside world, leaving you alone with him and with everything you had tried to avoid. Rafe led you to the living room, but the silence you shared was too tense to be comfortable.

"Why did you ask me to come?" you finally said, breaking the silence, your voice a little rougher than you had planned. You didn't want to smooth things over, because this time he had to hear the truth.

"Because I wanted to see you," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He came closer, crossing the distance between you as if there was no moral or emotional barrier separating you.

You took a step back. "You can't keep doing this, Rafe." It’s not right. Sofia is worried, and you just walk away from her without any explanation. It’s wrong what you’re doing.

He frowned, but he didn’t seem surprised. He was used to people telling him he was wrong, but he rarely cared.

“It’s not that simple,” he replied calmly, almost as if he didn’t want to argue.

“Yes, she is,” you insisted, crossing your arms in front of you like a protective barrier. “If you don’t want to be with her, tell her. Don’t leave her hanging, wondering what she did wrong.” Don't be a coward."

Your words were harsh, but honest. You couldn't stand to see Sofia suffer because of someone who didn't have the decency to be honest with her.

Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. That look... that damn look that always seemed to pierce through you, read every corner of your thoughts.

"You think it's that easy?" he finally said, his voice low but laden with something deeper, something that seemed about to explode. "You think I don't know what I'm doing? But every time I'm with her, I only think about you."

Your breathing stopped for a second. You didn't expect him to say it, at least not so directly. You knew there was something between you, a tension you couldn't deny, but hearing it out loud made it all too real.

"That's not an excuse," you replied, though your voice trembled slightly. "Sofia doesn't deserve this, Rafe. She trusts you. She trusts me. We can't do this to him."

He came closer again, more determined this time, and you didn't pull away. His eyes searched yours, his face just a few inches from yours. You could feel his breathing, the heat radiating from his body, and your heart began to pound.

"I don't care," he murmured, with an intensity that completely disarmed you. "I don't care what I should do. All I want now is to be with you."

His confession fell upon you like a storm, dark and electrifying. You knew that at that moment you should walk away, get out of that house and leave it all behind. But your feet remained motionless, as if a part of you was also trapped in that forbidden desire.

"This... can't happen," you whispered, trying to hold on to the last shred of reason you had left.

Rafe raised a hand, gently brushing your cheek, and the contact made you close your eyes for a second. "But it's already happening," he said with a certainty that made you He shuddered.

You opened your eyes and took a step back, breaking contact. “No. I have to go.”

Rafe didn’t try to stop you this time, but the intensity of his gaze continued to haunt you as you walked away. Your steps felt heavy, as if leaving him behind required titanic strength. When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You knew the right thing to do was to walk away, but the desire you had tried to bury was awakening, and you couldn’t deny that something inside you was changing.

That night, when you finally returned home, you sat on your bed, your heart still pounding. You had distanced yourself from Rafe, but you knew that distance wouldn’t be enough to stop what was growing between you. And, for the first time, you realized that maybe you couldn’t control what you felt anymore.

The days that followed became a silent storm inside you. Every moment was a constant struggle between guilt, desire, and responsibility. You had managed to physically distance yourself from him that night, but the emotional burden remained, growing with every thought, with every furtive glance you remembered, with every heartbeat that quickened as you received his messages.

The hardest thing was being close to Sofia. You felt trapped in a labyrinth of contradictory emotions, having to be her support while your own stability was shaky. She trusted you, depended on you, and you did everything you could to be by her side. But every word of comfort you offered to her tore you apart a little more inside. How could you be a support for her when you yourself were on the verge of collapse?

You spent hours with Sofia, listening to her worries, her fears. Rafe had become distant, and she didn't understand why. He told you how things had changed between them, how every day he seemed further away, colder. And you knew it. You knew exactly why he was pulling away, and that knowledge weighed on you like a stone in your chest.

There were times when you wanted to tell her the truth, to confess what was going on, but the words died in your throat. You couldn't. You couldn't destroy her like that. So you stayed silent, nodded, and held her when she broke down in front of you, as if that was enough to keep her whole.

Until one afternoon, while you were at her house, Sofia surprised you with an idea you weren't expecting.

"I've been thinking about doing something special for Rafe," she began, with a smile that seemed forced but full of hope. "Something to help us reconnect. A romantic getaway, just the two of us. Something spontaneous, different."

Just hearing her talk about him that way made your stomach turn.

“Do you think that will work?” you asked, trying to sound neutral, even though you knew your voice betrayed some disbelief.

Sofia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I think we need to get out of here, away from everything.” Maybe a change of scenery will help us remember why we're together in the first place."

You nodded slowly, not knowing what to say. The thought of the two of them, together, trying to save their relationship, should have relieved you, should have given you hope that everything would go back to normal. But it didn't. Instead, you felt a knot form in your stomach.

"I want you to come with us," he said suddenly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

The surprise took your breath away. "What?"

Sofia looked at you with an almost pleading expression. "Yes, I want you to come. I know you've been distant lately, and I don't know why, but I think being in a different place will do you good. We could relax, have fun like before.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, processing his words. Going with them… on a romantic getaway. Being a third presence on a trip that should be just for the two of them. It all seemed absurd, out of place.

"I don't think it's a good idea." "I don't think so," you finally answered, trying to come up with a valid excuse. "It's a trip for you two, I have nothing to do there."

Sofia shook her head quickly. "It's not absurd. You're my best friend, and Rafe appreciates you too. Besides, it could be fun. I don't want you to be alone, and I know you're not at your best either." This could help us both.”

Her words left you speechless. Maybe for her, your presence would be a safety net of sorts, someone to lean on if things didn’t go her way.

And you… you were trapped. You couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion, without her wondering what was really going on.

“Okay,” you finally said, even though every fiber of your being screamed for you not to. “I’ll go.”

Sofia smiled, relieved, and you forced a smile in response. As Sofia began to talk excitedly about plans, you could only think about what was coming next.

From the moment you accepted Sofia’s invitation, you knew exactly what was going to happen. You had tried to ignore it, to pretend that maybe things would be different, that you could keep the emotional distance you had built with so much effort. But reality haunted you, and with each passing day, that certainty became harder to ignore.

Days later, as you absentmindedly checked your phone, Rafe's message appeared like a shadow you couldn't avoid:

"I can't wait to see you on the trip."

Your heart stopped for a second. There was no formality, no context, just that message, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be eager to see you.

You didn't respond. It wasn't worth it. You would leave that message on read, buried among unimportant notifications, as if ignoring it could take away its weight.

And yet, you couldn't get it out of your head. Over the next few days, as you helped Sofia with the preparations for the trip, as you pretended to be excited about the getaway, that message was still there, latent, like a constant reminder of what awaited you.

Finally, the day of departure arrived. The chosen destination was a private island, a paradise hidden in the crystal-clear waters of somewhere not so far away. It was the kind of place only the rich and privileged could afford, with white sand beaches stretching as far as the eye could see, luxurious villas surrounded by lush vegetation, and a tranquility that seemed alien to the real world.

The plan sounded perfect. For Sofia, it was the ideal opportunity to reconnect with Rafe, to get away from everything that had been distancing them. For you, it was a gilded cage, a scenario where everything could go wrong.

You were nervous. You couldn't deny that the idea of being so close to Rafe, sharing the same space, made you uneasy. Every time you thought about him, about his gaze, about the way he seemed to seek you out even when he shouldn't, a wave of anxiety ran through your body.

But you promised yourself that you wouldn't let it bother you. You wouldn't give it power over you. You wouldn't allow this trip to become anything more than what it was meant to be: a getaway with your friend, nothing more.

The day started early. Rafe picked you up with Sofia in his car, both ready to leave. Sofia was beaming, excited about the adventure that awaited them. You, on the other hand, kept a measured smile, trying not to let your thoughts betray you.

“Ready for a few days of paradise?” Sofia asked, with a smile that reflected all her excitement.

“More than ready,” you answered, with an enthusiasm that you didn’t quite feel. Your eyes avoided Rafe’s, who remained silent, driving with a calm expression.

The trip to the private port was short, but every second in that car made you feel as if the air became denser, heavier. Rafe didn’t say much, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

When they arrived at the port, a private yacht was waiting for them, ready to take them to the island. The luxury was overwhelming: an elegant vessel, with polished wood interiors, spacious rooms, and staff ready to attend to their every wish.

The trip on the yacht was as beautiful as it was uncomfortable. Sofia settled down on the deck, enjoying the sun and the sea breeze. You joined her, trying to relax, but you constantly felt Rafe’s gaze on you, as if he was waiting for something, as if the silence between you was a conversation in itself.

When you finally arrived at the island, the place was even more stunning than you had imagined. The private villa was surrounded by palm trees, with an infinity pool that seemed to merge with the sea. From the balcony, the view was simply perfect: a clear horizon, the sky painted blue, and the sound of the waves like a constant melody.

Sofia was delighted. “Look at this! It’s even better than I imagined.”

You nodded, pretending to be just as excited, while inside you tried to prepare yourself for what was to come. You knew you would be together, that you would share moments where the line between right and wrong would blur even further. And yet, you were there.

The afternoon passed in apparent calm. You swam in the pool, walked along the beach, tried to distract yourself with anything. But every time Rafe came closer, every time his presence became unavoidable, an electric current seemed to run through the air.

It wasn't the place, nor the time. It was him. It was what he provoked in you, that attraction that you had tried to deny but that grew stronger and stronger.

As night began to fall, you promised yourself that you would keep your distance. You wouldn't let anything happen. You wouldn't let it happen to yourself.

When night came, dinner was quiet, the table was set on the terrace, overlooking the beach and the moonlit ocean. The air was warm, and the sea breeze blew gently, filling the air with the soothing sound of waves breaking on the shore.

Sofia talked animatedly about the day, grateful for the trip she had planned. His voice had a mix of excitement and hope, as if this place could fix everything he felt was falling apart. Rafe, on the other hand, was more reserved, listening in silence, his gaze occasionally lost in the horizon or sometimes fixed on you for a few seconds that seemed eternal.

You finished the last sip of your glass of wine when you decided it was time to leave them alone. Sofia had planned this trip to be with him, to reconnect, and you didn't want to be another obstacle.

"I'm going to take a walk on the beach," you said in a casual tone, leaving the napkin on the table and standing up. You smiled slightly at Sofia. "I'll leave you two alone for a while."

She looked at you with a mix of gratitude and relief. "Thank you."

Rafe just nodded, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before returning to his plate.

You didn't wait for an answer. You walked away from the table, crossing the terrace and descending the wooden path that led directly to the beach. The night air was cool and pleasant, and as you approached the sand, you felt each step take you a little further from the weight you carried.

The beach was completely empty, an endless stretch of white sand that sparkled under the moonlight. The sky was clear, and the stars seemed to flicker with an intensity you had rarely seen.

You walked slowly, letting your feet sink into the soft sand, enjoying the feeling of freedom that only this place could give you. The sound of the waves, the salty scent of the sea, the pleasant cold on your skin... everything seemed to conspire to offer you a moment of peace.

You stopped at a point where the shore met the tide, letting the water lap at your bare feet. You looked up at the sky, noticing the moon illuminating everything with its silver light. There was something comforting about its presence, something that made you feel less alone, less trapped in your own thoughts.

You had lost track of time on the beach, wrapped in that calm that you had needed so much. The sound of the waves, the reflection of the moon on the water, the coolness of the night... everything seemed to have conspired to stop the world for a while. You felt good, at peace, something you had not experienced for a long time.

You didn't know how much time you had spent there, alone, with your bare feet sunk in the wet sand and your gaze lost on the horizon. The world seemed so far away, and for a moment you allowed yourself to forget everything: the doubts, the tensions, the mixed emotions.

It was then that you heard footsteps behind you. Light, careful, as if the person approaching did not want to break the tranquility of the night. You didn't have to turn around to know who it was. You felt it before you saw it.

“Where is Sofia?” you asked, not looking at him, keeping your eyes fixed on the ocean that stretched out before you.

“Sleeping,” Rafe answered in a low voice, almost in a whisper that mixed with the sound of the sea.

His answer made you realize how long you had been there. Longer than you had imagined.

“Maybe I should go to sleep too,” you said as you slowly turned to look at him.

Rafe was standing a few feet away from you, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you. There was something different in his eyes, something softer, less tense.

“Will you stay with me for a moment?” he asked, his tone calm but with a nuance that made you hesitate.

You thought about it for a few seconds. You knew that staying was risky, that the line you had tried so hard not to cross could easily blur. But there was also something in his voice, in his gaze, that made you give in.

“It’s okay,” you finally replied, turning back to the sea as he came over and sat down beside you on the sand.

Silence settled between you, but this time it wasn’t awkward. On the contrary, there was something comforting about that shared stillness, as if you could finally be together without the weight of everything around you. For the first time in a long time, the usual tension was gone.

You both stared out at the ocean, letting the sound of the waves fill the space between you. There was no need to speak, no need to explain. You were just there, in that moment, sharing a pause amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, without warning, Rafe reached out a hand and splashed some water towards you. It wasn’t much, just a few drops, but enough to make you turn your head and look at him in surprise.

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, but unable to help a small smile.

Rafe smiled too, a genuine smile, free of the shadows he often carried. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten everything.

“I couldn’t resist,” he replied in an amused tone.

You decided not to be left behind. You quickly stood up and ran towards the water, wetting your hands before spraying a jet directly onto his shirt. Rafe stood up immediately, with an expression of mock indignation.

“Now you’re in trouble,” he said, advancing towards you while you retreated, laughing, with the water caressing your feet.

What followed was a game, an improvised battle on the shore, with both of you splashing each other, laughing as if you were children. The worries, the tensions, the doubts... everything was left behind in those minutes when there was only the two of you and the ocean.

Rafe seemed different, freer, more alive. And you... you felt light, as if you had finally found a respite in the middle of everything. Laughter filled the night, and for an instant, everything was fine.

Finally, you both stopped, soaked and panting slightly from laughter and exhaustion. Rafe looked at you, his smile still present, and for a moment the world seemed to stop again.

“Do you regret staying?” he asked quietly.

You thought about it for a moment, looking into his eyes, still feeling the tickle of laughter in your chest.

“No... not this time,” you answered, letting the peace of that moment envelop you once again.

After that little water fight, the breeze became cooler and calm settled between you again. You both remained silent, sitting on the sand, watching the sky begin to take on soft tones with the arrival of dawn.

Rafe stood beside you, relaxed but silent, watching the horizon. Despite the peace that surrounded you, tiredness began to take hold of you. The night had been long, and although the moment shared with him had been unexpectedly pleasant, your body was asking for rest.

“I think that’s enough for today… I’m tired,” you murmured softly, breaking the silence as you slowly stood up, shaking the sand from your hands.

Rafe stood beside you, with that carefree air he always seemed to carry with him. He didn’t say anything, simply nodded and began to walk beside you towards the house. The walk was quiet, accompanied only by the distant sound of the waves and the song of the first birds that announced the morning.

When they reached the house, they both climbed the stairs in silence, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the soft creaking of the wood. In front of the door to your room, you stopped, giving him one last look before saying goodbye. But before you could say anything, Rafe moved a little closer, leaning towards you naturally.

His lips brushed your cheek in a soft, brief kiss. It was an unexpected gesture, almost innocent, but it left you completely taken aback. The warmth of his touch was marked on your skin for a few seconds longer than it should have.

“Good night,” he murmured in a low, calm voice, as if it meant nothing.

You didn’t know what to answer. For a moment, your mind went blank, searching for some meaning in that kiss you hadn’t anticipated. But before you could say anything, Rafe had already turned around and started to walk away, walking down the hall as calmly as he had arrived.

You closed the door behind you, leaning your back against it, feeling a mix of emotions you couldn’t define. You had spent the entire night trying to keep things under control, reminding yourself not to cross any lines. However, that small gesture—so simple and yet so full of meaning—had shattered the apparent calm you were trying to build.

You brought a hand to your cheek, as if you wanted to check that it had really happened. The kiss had been brief, but the confusion it left in its place seemed endless. You didn't say anything, because at that moment, not even you knew what it meant.

When morning came, the sun shone brightly, illuminating the landscape imposingly as the fresh morning air swept through the palms of the tall palm trees surrounding the house. However, inside you, there was a palpable tension, as if everything that had dissipated the night before had returned to its natural state, denser than ever.

Rafe seemed as distant as ever, but now, every glance, every gesture on his part, caused a knot in your stomach. The kiss on your cheek seemed to have awakened something in him, although you didn't know exactly what.

You were all together in the kitchen, preparing breakfast while the sound of the coffee maker filled the space with its comforting aroma. Sofia was animated, chatting about trivial things, oblivious to what was really happening between you and Rafe. She seemed completely immune to the atmosphere that had changed between the three of you. You laughed with her, mechanically responding to her comments, but everything in you was distracted, focused on the small space you shared with Rafe.

He moved around the kitchen with that same calmness as always, but there was something in his attitude that got on your nerves. He gave you fleeting glances, not with the same nonchalance as before, but as if he were evaluating something that he himself could not understand. But he didn't say anything, and neither did you.

Sofia didn't notice anything. She was absorbed in the conversation, asking if you wanted to go out to explore the place after breakfast, always so cheerful, so oblivious to the discomfort that was beginning to form a thick layer between you and Rafe. Sometimes, it felt like the friendship you and Sofia shared was cracking with each moment you spent alone with him.

You sat down at the table, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the air around you felt. Rafe finally broke the silence, speaking calmly, as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine.

The conversation continued as if nothing had happened. Sofia was delighted, oblivious to everything, and you simply tried hard to go with the flow.

The rest of the day passed like a routine, but one that felt forced and artificial. You were with them, yes, but you felt distant, as if an invisible cloak separated you from Sofia and Rafe.

When you found the atmosphere becoming uncomfortable or you felt trapped, you took the opportunity to escape. You went out to the garden or to the beach, walking aimlessly, breathing deeply to clear your mind. You needed those moments of solitude, those moments when you could calm your thoughts and get away from the chaos that formed when the three of you were together.

Despite your escapes, Sofia seemed to be calmer, happier even. Her eyes sparkled as she talked about Rafe, and she enthusiastically told him how everything in the relationship seemed to be improving. The trip, apparently, was helping, as she said. Sofia's smile was easier to see, and the small tensions between her and Rafe seemed to have dissolved, at least in his presence.

At night, while Sofia and Rafe stayed in the house, laughing, or simply cozying up together in front of a movie or on the terrace, you left early. You didn't want to be there, you didn't want to be the spectator of something you couldn't control, that you didn't know how to handle.

Despite the apparent normality that Sofia and Rafe achieved in the moments they spent together, Rafe always came back to you, and no matter how much you tried to escape the tension that was brewing between the two of you, he found a way to get close again, as if there was something inside him that he couldn't ignore.

It was in those moments that you felt that strange mix of attraction and frustration, when he sought you out in those small moments of silence or in the casual exchanges that never seemed to be casual. You felt it in the way he looked at you, that intense gaze that you sometimes avoided, but that you couldn’t help but notice. Every time your eyes met his, the world around you seemed to disappear, leaving you alone with that warm but dangerous feeling that invaded your chest.

He did it without saying a word, just with his presence. Sometimes it was a simple gesture, like when he passed by you and his arm brushed yours, or when he asked you something in a low voice, just enough for you to hear. Other times it was more obvious, when he asked you to accompany him to a secluded corner or when, for no apparent reason, he stayed by your side for longer than necessary, as if he enjoyed the discomfort it caused.

Even when you tried not to pay attention to him, he kept coming back. You saw it in his messages, the ones he sent with a disturbing naturalness, as if it were normal after everything that had happened. Sometimes you answered them, other times you simply read them and left them unanswered. But he kept looking for an excuse to get closer, always in those moments when you thought you had finally gotten far enough away.

It was as if, despite everything that was between you, he couldn't stop coming back. And you, even though you tried to fight your own feelings, couldn't help but feel like he knew it too. He knew that, somehow, you always came back to him. And the worst of all was that, even though you tried to resist, you felt attracted too.

The next day, it was one of those afternoons where the heat of the sun was beginning to wane, and the breeze coming from the sea made the walk more pleasant. You, Rafe and Sofia were walking along a path next to the beach, enjoying a landscape that seemed straight out of a postcard. Sofia, with her usual energy, was talking non-stop with Rafe. They walked slightly ahead of you, while you stayed a few steps behind, distracted by your phone, answering messages and scrolling through social media without paying too much attention to the conversation.

You weren't really there. Or at least, that's what you tried to be. It was easier this way, less complicated.

At one point, Sofia stopped to look at some stones that had caught her attention. He walked away a few meters, bending down to pick up a small shell that was shining in the sun. He took the opportunity to take some photos, always attentive to such things.

Meanwhile, Rafe didn't waste a second. He looked down at the ground and saw a small wild flower growing next to the path. It was simple, with white petals and a yellow center, nothing special, but enough to catch his attention. He quickly bent down and plucked it. At first you thought he was going to give it to Sofia, like any boyfriend would do at that moment. It was logical, what anyone would have expected.

But no. It wasn't Sofia he gave it to.

It was you.

Rafe turned slightly and handed you the flower with a disconcerting calm, as if that gesture meant nothing, but in fact it said everything. His eyes met yours for a brief second, a second that seemed longer than it should have been. He didn't say anything, there was no need. You looked at him, surprised, and he just smiled with that expression that seemed to challenge you, that seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

For a moment, your mind went blank. You didn't know how to react. You couldn't reject it, but you couldn't openly accept it either. So you took the flower, your fingers brushing his for just an instant. The contact was as brief as it was significant.

With the flower in your hand, you quickly looked over to where Sofia was, making sure she hadn't seen anything. She was still distracted with the shell and the photos, not paying attention to what was happening between you. Your heart was beating a little faster than normal, as if the simple act of receiving that flower was a secret you shouldn't share.

Not knowing what to do with it, you put it in the back pocket of your shorts, hiding it, but not throwing it away. You didn’t want to get rid of it, even though you knew you should.

You continued walking down the path until you finally arrived back at the house. The sun was beginning to descend on the horizon, tinting the sky in golden and pink hues, creating a perfect atmosphere for a quiet afternoon.

Sofia was the first to propose that you stay outside, on the sand, to enjoy the sunset. You and Rafe agreed, and the three of you settled down on a blanket spread out near the porch. A small cooler with beers sat to one side, and you each took one to relax as the day slowly gave way to night.

The sound of the sea was constant, a soft murmur filling the air.

You sat cross-legged, the cold beer in your hands and the small flower Rafe had given you earlier resting on your knee. At first, you tried not to pay too much attention to it, but before you knew it, you started playing with it. Your fingers gently twirled it, bending the petals, as if you were absorbed in your own thoughts.

Rafe was sitting next to you, closer than you should be comfortable with, but the truth was that you had stopped caring about the closeness. Without saying anything, he looked away at you, watching as you manipulated the flower. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers with an attention that was not casual. It wasn't the flower that interested him, it was the fact that you had kept it. That small gesture meant something, even if neither of you mentioned it.

For her part, Sofia seemed completely oblivious to the subtle tension that was forming between you. She talked about how relaxing it was to be there, about how the trip was helping to disconnect from everything. You nodded and smiled when appropriate, but in reality you were caught up in your own thoughts.

The afternoon passed slowly, between scattered conversations and the constant opening of beers. When it was finally time to eat, they decided to stay outside. Rafe lit a small improvised campfire, and they ate there, with the cool night air beginning to envelop them.

After eating, Sofia was the first to suggest getting into the water. You thought the idea was a good one. There was something liberating about submerging yourself in the sea under the dim light of the night sky. You took off your clothes, leaving you in your bikini, and walked into the water.

Rafe watched you from where he was sitting, his eyes following you in a way he hadn't done so openly before. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you in a bikini, but this time there was something different in his gaze. An intensity that wasn't there before, an attention that was now impossible to ignore.

It didn't bother you. You could feel his gaze on you, but you decided not to give it any importance. You weren't looking for his attention, or at least, that's what you told yourself. You entered the water, letting the freshness of the sea envelop you, trying to disconnect, to forget for a moment everything that was happening.

Soon after, Rafe joined you. He swam close, not enough to invade your space, but close enough that his presence was unavoidable. The moonlight was beginning to reflect off the surface of the water, and the atmosphere felt strange, almost unreal. Sofia, meanwhile, stood on the shore, laughing and playing with the waves that barely touched her feet.

Rafe watched you silently, as if he were debating something internally. But he didn't say anything. And neither did you. You just floated there, in that moment suspended in time, where everything seemed about to change, but nothing did.

It was close to 1 a.m. when Sofia decided it was time to go to sleep. She got up, drying her feet and shaking the sand off her legs before approaching you.

"I'm going to bed," she told you.

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. You were tired, and that whole day had been confusing enough that you wanted to finally disconnect.

"Yeah, I think I'm going too," you answered, slowly getting up as Sofia called Rafe to join her as well.

He was sitting on the sand, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon of the sea, as if he were lost in some deep thought. He turned his head towards her, with a calm expression, and simply said:

“I'll stay a little longer.”

Sofia didn't insist. She smiled and disappeared towards the house, leaving only her footprints in the sand. You followed her with your gaze, with the firm intention of doing the same, of returning and closing the day. But when you took a step towards the house, something inside you made you stop.

You turned slowly, your bare feet returning to the cold sand, and without saying anything you returned to the water. You didn't want to think too much about what you were doing. The water was calm, a dark expanse that blended with the sky, and when you entered, the cold ran through your skin, waking you up completely.

Rafe saw you return. He didn't ask anything. He simply stood up and followed you, entering the water beside you. The silence between you was thick, but not uncomfortable. There was a different energy, a tension that needed no words.

You felt him close, his presence inescapable. You wanted to ignore him, to keep your distance, but every fiber of your being was aware of him. His eyes searched for you in the darkness, and you, despite everything, avoided looking directly at him.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You felt his hand reach out to you, his fingers brushing your arm with a softness that was almost imperceptible, but enough to make you stop. You didn’t move away. You let him touch you because, deep down, you wanted him to.

Rafe approached slowly, the water barely reaching the height of his hips when he took you by the waist, with a firmness that you hadn’t expected, but that you didn’t reject. You stood still, your breathing getting heavier, the air between you getting thicker.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of the waves.

You heard him, but you didn’t respond. Not because you didn’t have something to say, but because you didn’t want to break the moment. His words were a confession you’d been waiting for, even though you were afraid to hear them.

And then, without warning, Rafe kissed you. It was a kiss that didn’t seek permission, that didn’t hesitate. His lips found yours with a need you’d felt in yourself for days, but had repressed.

And you… you let him. Because you couldn’t take it anymore. Because you wanted it.

The kiss was intense, charged with everything you’d both been repressing. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The water surrounded you, cold and silent, but everything about you was fire, heat, desire.

After what seemed like an eternity, you parted slightly, your breaths mingling, your foreheads resting against each other. You didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

They stepped out of the water in silence, their bare feet leaving small footprints in the wet sand. Rafe led you to a dark corner, out of reach of the light coming from the house, where the night seemed more private, more his.

He gently laid you down on the cold sand, his body leaning over yours, but with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. His eyes searched for you in the dim light, and you whispered to him:

“No one’s ever kissed me the way you do.”

These words pierced him. He had no answer. And he kissed you again, and you let him, once again.

The night became denser when the kiss ended. You slowly separated from Rafe, your lips still trembling from the contact, and your eyes, full of emotions you couldn't contain, closed for a moment as you felt silent tears fall down your cheeks.

You didn't want to cry, not like that, not in front of him. But you did. It was inevitable. Guilt and desire intertwined in your chest, drowning you.

Rafe noticed it right away. Without saying anything, his fingers gently brushed your face, drying one of those tears, as if that gesture could erase everything that was going through you.

"I feel bad..." you whispered with a broken voice, barely a murmur that the sound of the sea almost drowned out.

You regretted it. Not just the kiss, but everything that had led up to that moment. Of having let yourself go. Of having crossed a line that you swore you would never cross. Sofia was asleep just a few feet away, trusting you, him, and you had broken that trust.

“I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have done this,” you added, your gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

Rafe didn’t look away from you. You could feel his attention, that intensity that always seemed to envelop him, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter when you were around. He placed a firm hand on your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said in a low, serious voice. “I need you more than you know.”

His words were simple, but heavy with weight. You stood still, your thoughts teetering between what was right and what you wanted. You didn’t want to hear that, but at the same time, you had longed for it.

“If this is what you want, I’ll leave Sofia. I’ll do whatever it takes.” His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer, a sign that you could accept what he was willing to offer you.

You shuddered at that. It wasn’t what you wanted, at least not like this. Sofia was your friend, an important part of your life, and you knew how much it would hurt her. The last thing you wanted was to destroy her, to take away something she still believed was hers.

“No…” you answered, shaking your head with a mix of firmness and desperation. “You can’t do that. I don’t want Sofia to suffer. She deserves to be happy.”

Rafe sighed, his frustration evident, but he didn’t let go of you. He moved a little closer, as if his words could convince you.

“You have to be happy too,” he replied with determination. “What about you? Why are you always thinking about everyone but yourself?”

You didn’t know what to say. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. You had spent so much time worrying about others, about keeping Sofia happy, about protecting the friendship, that you had forgotten about yourself, about your own wants and needs. But at what cost?

“I don’t know…” you admitted quietly, feeling each word cost you more.

Rafe leaned closer to you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice softer now, almost whispering:

“When we get back, I’m going to leave her. I can’t keep pretending. I can’t keep walking away from you.”

His words shook you. It was a statement you had feared and hoped for at the same time. Your heart was pounding, while your mind struggled to find an answer, a way out that wouldn’t hurt anyone. But you knew there wasn’t an easy one.

You stayed silent, letting the night breeze wash over you, while Rafe was still there, his hands still on you, his presence unwavering.

The next few days in that paradise you had longed for became a kind of torture. A sweet and bitter torture that seemed to have no end. Every morning, every afternoon, every night, Rafe found a way to get close to you, to seek you out with the slightest excuse. A touch of hands when Sofia wasn’t looking, a look loaded with meaning as you walked together, a stolen kiss in the shadows when the moment allowed it.

You couldn’t help it. He was constant, persistent. He knew exactly how to attract you, how to make you lower the defenses you had built up so much.

One afternoon, while you were on the terrace, watching the calm ocean, Rafe approached with something in his hand. Without saying anything, he placed it in your palm. It was a ring, delicate and beautiful. You looked at it, bewildered.

“Why are you giving me this?” you asked him with a lump in your throat, your fingers closing around the ring.

He didn’t respond with words. She just looked at you, with that mix of desire and determination that worried you so much, as if she were marking a silent promise. You didn't understand why she had it, or why she had given it to you, but there it was, in your trembling hand.

The days passed, and you felt more and more trapped. The sun, the sand, the sea breeze, everything that had seemed perfect to you before now suffocated you. You wanted to go home, return to the routine, to the family chaos, to anything that would allow you to escape this dilemma. Because at home, perhaps, you could separate from Rafe.

Not because you didn't want to, not because his kisses didn't burn your skin or his gaze didn't make you tremble. But because you knew it wasn't the right thing to do.

Sofia was still by your side, oblivious to everything, excited about this trip that she thought was saving her relationship. And every time she looked at you with a grateful smile, you felt the weight of your actions sinking you deeper.

Rafe, on the other hand, didn't seem to feel that weight. He looked for you every moment, as if nothing else mattered. As if he was sure that everything would end well, that when he returned, his life would change, with you by his side. But you didn't share that certainty. You couldn't.

But it didn't matter how much you wanted to deny it. It didn't matter how many times your reason screamed at you that you had to stop, that this wasn't right. Because at the end of the day, none of that seemed enough. You still loved Rafe.

You loved him with an intensity you hadn't felt before, a force that dragged you every time you were near him. It didn't matter how much you told yourself that you had to be strong, that you had to get away. Every time he looked for you, every time he looked at you with those eyes full of desire, you fell again.

His kisses were a trap you didn't want to escape from. His hands on your skin were an anchor that kept you in a place where logic and morality faded away. You liked how he made you feel, how he loved you, how he seemed so sure of what he wanted, of what he wanted with you.

And you... you wanted it too. You wanted it from the first kiss under the shade, from that flower you kept in the back pocket of your shorts. You wanted it from the first touch you shared in secret. You wanted him.

Rafe loved you too. He didn't say it in words, but he showed it to you every time he found a way to be alone with you. In every furtive glance, in every caress when Sofia wasn't there, in every moment when his lips urgently sought yours. He liked loving you. He liked the power you had over him, the way his thoughts revolved around you, leaving everything else in the background.

You knew it was wrong. You knew that every kiss you shared, every moment his hands sought you out, took you further away from what was right, from the loyalty you owed Sofia. But you also knew you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop.

Every night, when the world fell silent, you thought about it. About how you had crossed that invisible line and how there was no turning back. You were trapped in a dangerous game that neither of you seemed to want to leave. And even though a part of you felt guilty, another part—the one that flared up every time you were with him—didn’t want to let go.

Because in the end, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you should stop. No matter how much your reason screamed at you. You still loved Rafe. And the worst thing was that he loved you too, and that made it impossible to stop.

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