#made this for a quick upcoming event

[parasitic-saint]

self...portrait...?

[sunsburns]

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him. 

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis. 

Which he didn't. 

You let him win. 

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together. 

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise. 

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one. 

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right? 

Right? 

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief. 

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker. 

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you. 

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette. 

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips. 

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you. 

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art. 

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back. 

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you. 

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. 

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin. 

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past. 

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread. 

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room. 

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. 

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair. 

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see. 

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you. 

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath. 

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back. 

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head. 

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face. 

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly. 

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you. 

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips. 

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below. 

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes. 

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own. 

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache. 

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction. 

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake. 

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you." 

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. 

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard. 

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man." 

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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[l4ndonorizz]

falling in love in 4k - lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

warnings: none

song: Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein - The first I love you

summary: Lando falling in love with a reporter in 4k

wc: 1.1k

The event was buzzing with energy as you moved through the crowd, mic in hand, ready to ask the next set of questions. You’d been working as a motorsport reporter for a while now, but something about this event felt different—mostly because Lando Norris was in attendance.

He caught your eye as you approached him, his signature smile in place, but there was something different about the way he looked at you.

“Hey, Lando! Ready for a few questions?” you asked with a grin, trying to keep things professional. You’d interviewed him before, but lately, the interviews had started to feel more personal—like the way he lingered after your questions, as if waiting for more than just the next topic.

“Always,” he replied, flashing that familiar grin. But his eyes weren’t just on you—they were locked on you. Not in the usual way drivers look at reporters, but in a way that made your stomach flip.

As the camera crew got ready, you could feel the subtle tension building. You weren’t imagining things, right? The way he was looking at you—there was no mistaking it.

“Alright, Lando, let’s start with how you’re feeling about the upcoming race…”

He answered, of course, but as the conversation flowed, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze softened when you spoke, or how his smile grew whenever your name came up in the conversation. It was like he wasn’t just talking to a reporter; he was talking to you.

Later, when the interview was over and you moved to the next person, you could feel Lando’s eyes lingering on you. It made your cheeks flush, and you tried to shake off the feeling.

But it wasn’t long before the internet caught on.

After the interview aired, clips of Lando staring at you like you were the most interesting thing in the room started circulating on Twitter. Fans started making jokes, sharing memes with captions like, “Lando Norris falling in love in 4K,” and “Lando’s got heart eyes for the reporter.”

It wasn’t just a one-time thing either. Every interview, every interaction you had with him seemed to fuel the rumors. Fans were quick to point out how his demeanor changed whenever you were around, and soon enough, the jokes started piling up.

And as much as you tried to laugh it off, every time you saw Lando after that, the way he looked at you only confirmed what the internet had already guessed—he was falling for you. Hard.

The Miami Grand Prix was no exception. The heat, the energy, the roaring crowd—it all seemed to amplify everything, especially the undeniable chemistry between you and Lando. You’d been assigned to cover post-race interviews, and after Lando’s stellar performance, the adrenaline was still coursing through both of you.

You weaved through the bustling pit lane, making your way to Lando, who was already surrounded by his team, celebrating the victory. His face was lit up with pure joy, and when his eyes finally met yours, you felt a flutter in your chest. He broke away from the group, wiping the sweat from his brow, and beelined towards you.

“Congrats, Lando! How does it feel to win in Miami?” you asked, holding the mic up to him, keeping your voice professional, even though inside, your heart was racing.

He was still panting from the race, the adrenaline clear in his eyes as he grinned, but there was something else—something more intense in the way he looked at you.

“It feels… unreal,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “The car was amazing, the strategy was spot on, and Miami… well, it’s always got that extra bit of magic.”

You laughed softly, catching the spark in his eyes. “You sure it’s just Miami, or are you feeling that post-race high?”

Lando chuckled, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s the win and… something else.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, feeling a little heat rise to your cheeks. “Care to elaborate?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make it more personal, more intimate. “I think you already know.”

The crowd around you was buzzing, but it felt like the world had faded for a second, leaving just the two of you standing there, the tension thickening between you. You couldn’t help but smile, the air between you charged with something that wasn’t just post-race excitement anymore.

And then, as you were about to pull away to wrap up the interview, Lando suddenly grabbed the mic, still smiling but with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Actually, there’s one more thing,” he said, his voice clear, but you could see the adrenaline coursing through him as his words tumbled out.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What’s that?”

“In all this excitement… I almost forgot to ask,” he said, turning to look directly into the camera, still holding the mic. “How would you feel about going on a date with me?”

Your eyes widened, and the pit lane erupted in gasps and laughter. You were live on air, every viewer watching this unfold in real time. Lando’s grin widened as the shock registered on your face, but you could see the genuine hope behind the teasing. He wasn’t just messing around—he was serious.

You blinked, momentarily speechless as the cameras zoomed in on both of you. The world seemed to freeze, all eyes on you, waiting for your answer. You could feel the tension in the air, but all you could focus on was Lando, his expectant smile, and the pounding in your chest.

“I—uh, I think… I think I could be convinced,” you finally said, trying to keep your voice steady, but you couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face.

The crowd burst into cheers, and Lando, clearly riding the high of both the race and your answer, laughed, running a hand through his hair again. “Well, that’s a yes, then!”

He handed the mic back to you with a triumphant grin, winking as he stepped back into the crowd of his team. You stood there, your mind racing as the reality of what had just happened sunk in.

The internet would have a field day with this. But right now, all you could think about was how you’d just agreed to go on a date with Lando Norris—live, on air. And from the look on his face, this was only the beginning.

[lyrefromthesea]

Since you lost your list of requests, I'll write mine again 😅. how hashiras would punish reader if they get on their nerves/make them jealous/disappointed them/etc.

Male Hashira x Reader - the punishment you deserve

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: slight angst?

Tengen:

• truthfully, i think he often gets upset about the smaller things in life. the decisions made in his family of four always have to be in sync with his wants and beliefs, otherwise he could get petty.

• his punishments are unspoken, nothing he really tries to force on other people. however, after Suma, Makio, Hina and you all vote against his plans, his mood immediately drops.

• the punishment you'll receive from him will not only influence you, but his other lovers as well. he's down and nothing is as he wants. he's not happy and through little acts and petty comments, his mood will become all of your moods too.

Obanai:

• he will ignore you. i would bet my right hand. this man will get upset over something either justified in every sense of the word or the most stupid act you'll ever see, because you can't influence it.

• don't get him wrong, he loves you and he's a gentle lover too, but not after you made his day turn out this way. Kaburamaru is not allowed on your shoulder anymore, he stays by his side or can get ignored just like you.

• he'll make a point out of seeing you enter a room and looking the other way, pretending like that wasn't fully intentional.

• however, he stops punishing you rather quickly, because he wants to spend time with you. punishing you is indirectly a punishment for him.

Rengoku:

• i think that Rengoku and you at least share one hobby that you both love. having thrown this into the room, it'll be a thing for the two of you to spend evenings together and live out that hobby.

• he doesn't punish you often, but he has a good reason when he does. his punishments aren't meant to hurt you either, it's more like your actions made him upset.

• he cancels your little hobby dates, saying that he doesn't want to do it in this state. the way he often sadly trots away makes you swiftly follow after him, resulting in a long talk about how certain things just aren't okay.

Sanemi:

• he's downright mean. he'll make a point out of mentioning what you did wrong every chance he gets until you apologize.

• you accidentally fall? "are you trying to make me jealous again? it's not working this time." expect that you hadn't tried to make him jealous to begin with. another person had complimented you and, like the fool you were, you blushed.

• he's a jealous man, and while he often knows how to hide it, he'll also have times to let his frustrations out in these kinds of "punishments"

• "i already said i'm sorry, Sanemi..!" your sad expression makes him pause, quietly apologizing for being rude and helping you up.

• he's jealous, not a monster.

Giyuu:

• just like Obanai, he'll probably ignore you. however, he does it subconsciously.

• there are certain things Giyuu just doesn't like and he'll get upset seeing you do them. the unwanted feeling of anger or sadness forces him to make a quick decision. ignore you or possibly hurt you with his words.

• he'll try to avoid you until he has grown calmer, less prone to acting on his emotions. it's just that you'll feel hurt by the time he finally talks to you again.

Gyomei:

• he's not the type for punishments, at least not for any kind of punishment that could harm you.

• i believe he only really gets upset in extreme cases like hurting other people, which you probably won't do or - the more likely scenario - when you do something reckless.

• he'll certainly tell you that he wasn't fond of your actions, not liking that you put yourself in danger.

• however, if you have an upcoming event with him, like training together, he will cancel it. it's not a punishment in his eyes, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. of course, you perceive the canceled time differently.

[eraenaa]

Please Please Please (Modern AU)

Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Politician Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Heartbreak is one thing; my ego’s another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker.

Warnings: Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Choking, Fingering, ¿Semi-Public Relations?, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 1,969

A/N: Quick little fic bc the music gods blessed us with new pop anthems <3

The lion’s pride. As a Lannister, you and the whole of your family had a great deal of it. Great lengths are made to maintain it, especially when you are pitted in the arena of the public eye. Every decision you made was calculated, and every action has a reaction that you meticulously premeditated. Nothing less than perfect and respectable could be accepted. Sensibilities must always be in check, but after meeting him, it seemed to fall out of your head. 

Aemond Targaryen. An up-and-coming figure in the scene of politics. A second son of the infamous family of the Targaryens. A waving red flag you had ignored, for you were too distracted by every other aspect of him. 

You remember the day you met him fondly. You were forced to attend a gala. Your family needed to push a figure of unity for the upcoming election; in consequence, you had to participate in endless events pitting you in the eye of the public. You were standing next to your father as he introduced you to other influential members of his party when, from the side of your eye, you caught a figure walking into the event hall, dressed in all black, striding and making his way through the crowds effortlessly. You were stood a few leagues away from him, but you already felt this aura of confidence that strode dangerously close to arrogance. You barely caught a clear glimpse of him, but there was this domineering and authoritarian presence in him that was needed in leaders that had solidified your attraction. 

Aemond has had his eye on you for quite some time now. The golden girl, they liked to call you—the celebrated daughter of House Lannister, the girl who was perfect on paper. Everything you had done in your life had only added to the pride and good standing of your family, and Aemond could not help but be intrigued. He strode into the room, always catching everyone’s attention, but yours was the only one he sought for. When he finally caught your eyes from across the room, he inwardly smirked to himself and strode to where you stood with your father. “Ah, Aemond,” Your father greeted the other member of his party with civility. “Sir Lannister,” You hear him greet, and you clenched your jaw as you hear the deep, velvety tone of his voice. “This is my daughter; I don’t believe you two have been introduced yet,” Your father said, and you turned your full attention to him. Aemond led out his hand for you to shake, and he felt a chill run down his spine as your hands clasped around each other. 

“Nice to meet you,” You said with a small smile. The same smile was reserved for when you met your father’s other colleagues. You hear him hum and watch as he gives a nod, reserved and quiet, an exact depiction of what you read of him. You stood there quietly for a few moments as they talked of business, trying to ignore the eye that had been entranced by you. When there was a pause in their conversation, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar on the side of the room to refresh your drink, a figure closely following behind you. 

Things were quick to escalate from there from only having to be formally introduced to Aemond mere moments ago to him and you engaging in juvenile activities in a nearby coat closet. There was a lapse in your judgment as you engaged in such activities. Letting your lips dance with your father’s colleague, letting his solid and cold hands roam your body, not at all cautious that with just one swing of the door, you two would succumb to scandal. 

“Aemond,” You called as you gripped his long, silvery locks. His lips were too preoccupied with peppering kisses on your neck and collarbone to respond. You feel his hand inch higher towards your bosom, placing it flat as he palmed your tit. “Who knew their golden girl could be so… lewd?” Amend hummed, and you rolled your eyes as you hated that nickname. “You’ve only just met me, but you had no hesitation as I led you here,” He mused and nipped your skin, not at all wary that it would leave a mark. “Are you complaining?” You asked breathlessly, staring at his sapphire-colored eye. You feel your core tighten as a devilish smirk rose to his lips. “No,” he replied and kissed your lips once more. 

It did not take long after that encounter before you two were noted to be entirely fond of one another. 

There were great reservations. Your older brother taking the lead to voice it on behalf of your family. “Wh—why him? You are aware of his… demeanor?” You pursed your lips. “I am, and he is not as rash and cold as you think,” You defended. “But why did you have to choose someone from father’s party— it is a complete conflict of interest.” You rolled your eyes, “How is it a conflict of interest? For it to be a conflict of interest, it has to be with someone from the opposing party, does it not?” You countered. Your brother shook his head disapprovingly, “He is from the opposing party. Father is not completely sold on his allegiance. He still thinks your little boyfriend’s decision to join our side is a shallow rebellion against his family’s— nothing but a ploy!” Your brother almost screamed, and you stayed quiet as your calculating and cautious self had overlooked the possibility.

That thought bothered you tremendously, and it was noticeable. Aemond frowned as he placed kisses on the valley of your breast, and his hand was threading closer to your cunt, but no reaction came from you. “Are you well?” He asked as he pulled away, placing a small gap between your bodies. Your back was rested on the headboard of his bed, your mind was far off, and you could not even enjoy his pleasurable actions. You stared into his eye and licked your lips. “What’s your plan?” You suddenly asked, and you watched as his face folded in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asked and sat straight before you, his cold hand placed on your warm thigh. 

“Why did you suddenly join my father’s party? For decades, our families have been known for their opposing views… why then did you suddenly join?” You asked and watched as his lips thinned. “If you wanted political and career advancements, it would make more sense if you stayed in your family’s party. Why then do you join ours when you would have to start all over again?” You asked in doubt, fearing that it was indeed all a ploy and the relations between you were just another part of it. That in the end, whatever you do will not only end in heartbreak but worse, your reputation will be tarnished. Aemond was silent, and that put further skepticism in you. Your mind conjures up future scenes where the public will come to know that your relationship was filled with deceit, his way to slither into your father’s political party— subjecting you and your family to embarrassment as you had been seduced by him and his lies. 

“It’s true that if I had stayed with my family’s party, my career would have advanced greatly. But it is a dead end.” You frowned at his words, trying not to be distracted by the day his hand would caress your skin. “It is a lost cost. I had never believed and aligned myself with their political beliefs and values; having to run and represent things I don’t believe in is, for me, practically career suicide,” You pursed your lips and assessed his eye, trying to find sincerity in him. People often say that he was a good actor, keeping his dealings and reactions to himself so no one could use them against him. 

Aemond could not help but smirk as you stared him down, his hand on your thigh inching higher as you did your calculations. “Why? Did you think I was using you?” He asked quietly. His eye darkened when you bit your lip and slowly nodded, a bit wounded that you would think as such. However, he could not honestly blame you because if he were in your position, he would also be skeptical about himself. You parted your lips to speak, but words died on your tongue as you felt Aemond cup your cunt. 

“They always said you were a fast learner… so best to engrave this in your pretty little head,” Aemond hummed as his lips threaded closer to yours, his fingers gliding against your folds, a whimper escaping your lips. “I’m not with you for political advancements… I’m with you simply because I want you, you alone.” He swore and intertwined your lips, swallowing your moan as he slipped his finger inside. Aemond smirked as you parted your lips, needing air as he curled the digit, feeling your cunt clench around him tightly. 

You clung to Aemond’s neck as he dipped down and captured the taut bud of your tit into his mouth, his teeth nibbling your skin, making you whimper. Aemond added another finger as he felt your grind your cunt against his hand in want of more; his thumb lay flat on your nubbin and drew circles, your moans echoing through the room. “More… Aemond— please, please, please, I want more,” You moaned. His fingers were pleasurable, but your body needed the whole of him. You hear him hum and watch him through glazed eyes as he removes his fingers, bringing them to his lips as he cleans your essence. “You want more?” He asked, and you nodded fervently, bordering on desperation. “Then who am I to deny?” He smirked as he switched your positions, him resting his back on the headboard and you straddling his waist. 

Your head tilted back, and your jaw went slack as his cock slipped inside you, sheathing itself perfectly in your cunt, the tip of it hitting the spongey spot that made you lost and unaware of your surrounding. The place that made all sensibilities fly out of the window and make your judgment muddled. “So pretty…” Aemond praised breathlessly, watching as you bounced his cock. Your tits heaving against him, your lips parted as you spewed out your moans. Aemond placed his hands on your hips and guided you, his thrust deep and harsh, just as you liked it. 

Aemond felt you take hold of one of his hands, guiding it toward your throat, and he groaned out in pleasure as you urged him to choke you. Your cunt clenching painfully and pleasurably around his length as he did your request. You moaned as you felt the cool metal of his ring imprint itself on your throat. You were close, and your desperate movements hinted that to Aemond. “Is my pretty girl going to come?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his own release coming quickly as well. “Aemond… god, Aemond!” You called as you came undone, your body hunching over his, and he sought out your lips, kissing them as he spilled himself deep inside your cunt. 

You breathed heavily, your mind trying to regain focus, but it was difficult as Aemond drew soothing circles on your skin as you came down from your high. “Do me a favor?” You asked breathlessly, Aemond’s cock still deep inside you and the flaccid length growing stiffer by the moment. “Anything,” He answered and tried to capture your lips, but you swiftly backed away. “Don’t fucking embarrass me,” You said in seriousness, and Aemond smirked at your words. “Never.” He swore and sealed his oath with a kiss.

Tag List

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (4)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for heavy substance abuse in this chapter - the usage of this is not meant to be glamourized in any way. i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so please note the underlying commentary on idol life and substance use. as someone who has been diagnosed with substance use disorder, i encourage learning about its complexities and ending stigma around it. there is also a quick note at the end of the chapter regarding its ending. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

you might just have dealt the final blow stop, you’re losin’ me

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: big hit entertainment releases a trailer on official youtube channel, announcing bts’ upcoming world tourㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤapril 2018

  two years made a night and day difference in your relationship. after the highs and lows that brought several short-term breakups, 2018 was supposed to be your and jungkook’s year. it was a fresh start and the turn of your early twenties was the world at your fingertips. young, beautiful and wealthy - it was a dream for any idol in south korea. 

  a fresh start wasn’t always easy when skeletons lurked in your closet, though. watching your boyfriend pace back and forth in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey on the rocks at hand, jungkook looked completely different. you weren’t sure if you’d finally snapped out of the daze that framed him as a teenager, bursting with energy, but things hadn’t been the same in a long time.

  “yeah, y/n is coming with me,” you heard him say, your ears perking up at the sound of your name. it was hard to read his tone, but something told you that the person on the other end was surprised at his statement.

  he finally noticed that you walked into the room, having finished slipping on your coat. jungkook sighed, tilting back the last of his drink and telling the person on the phone that he had to go. his furrowed eyebrows were telling enough that he was annoyed with you.

  “what? i only took an hour,” you said, walking over from the doorway of his bathroom.

  jungkook rolled his eyes. “an hour after the party started. let’s get going, the boys said they’re waiting for us,” he complained. “you’re the one who insisted on coming with me, anyway.”

  at that, you didn’t say anything because you knew it would only escalate into an argument. jungkook had been recently accusing you of being overly controlling when it came to hanging out with his friends, which led to an invite to tonight’s party to be extended to you, as well. 

  however, parties at places like hotel azure were now a routine for you and jungkook, which was one of the only things that was constant against change in the past two years. with fame came notoriety and after clawing your way up the social ladder amongst the country’s musical elite, invitations to galas and lounges and the vip section of the club came left and right. everyone now knew you as one of the idol power couples behind the curtain and your respective presences were expected at events. 

  a molasses-like tension sat in the air when it came to this. although you and jungkook were known as one, it wasn’t easy to ignore jungkook’s individual stardom that garnered mass attention. his biggest supporter, you loved this for him - until you didn’t. he would jet off to tokyo and shanghai to party with a-listers and meet new people everywhere he went. he was rising before your very eyes and you couldn’t help but feel left behind.

  “did you not tell them we got back together?” you suddenly asked, trailing out the front door with an impatient jungkook.

  he only shrugged. it was hard to keep up when you and jungkook had taken several sporadic “breaks” over the last year. as a couple, you showed your best and smiled in front of everyone. however, your friends were the ones who would witness arguments in the corner of the room or furious frenzies of text arguments whilst working. 

  it was hard to manage a relationship that was akin to a fire - passionate, but ready to set ablaze at all times. 

  you weren’t sure how you and jungkook got to this point. you were no longer kids who only had each other. it could’ve been so many things - age, fame, money. there were other underlying issues that came with all these things. after all, by the time you were sat in the car, the first flask was already finished between you and him.

  the drive to hotel azure was a blur and before you knew it, you were taking shots with kim yoojung and suzy in the penthouse suite. jungkook had walked away with his friends upon entering the party and it was already a lost idea to find him. you exchanged few words on the way to the venue, as he seemed to still be frustrated with you for a variety of reasons.

  besides, it was a jackson wang party. the suite was filled to the brim with the who’s who of the entertainment industry, all mingling and dancing in an exalted existence that only celebrities enjoyed. others were outside at the rooftop pool, basking in the first of the year’s warm air. there were too many things going on at once.

  the only warmth you were concerned with was the hot sensation spreading throughout your body from hennessy. “how’s the filming of your new show?” you asked suzy, who was now flushed from the round of drinks.

  “exhausting. how’s the recording of your new album?” she sighed.

  “exhausting.”

  a murmur of agreement ensued. that was why everyone was gathering - an escape from the fastlane of their lives. the industry was draining and every forced smile for the cameras only weighed heavier on someone.

  “that nct member your boyfriend is friends with was passing out xans,” warned yoojung, poking your side.

  a year ago, you would have made a scene. now jaded and long given up on trying to knock some sense into him, you peeked over yoojung’s shoulder to check out the hallway ahead. turning back to the other two women, you already made up your mind.

  “the bathroom over there is free,” was all you had to say and with you swiping your clutch off the counter, they knew what you were thinking. they knew what was in its contents.

  you had to - it was a jackson wang party. ironically, you were never able to recall actually seeing jackson at his parties. really, you weren’t able to recall much in general the day after for certain reasons and tomorrow was looking no different when you busted out of the bathroom minutes later, giggling and brushing off your clothes. at the very least, you knew that you weren’t looking out of place, especially if what yoojung said was true. everyone in the room could afford the best to use, so why wouldn’t they?

  “we should go to the pool!” 

  it didn’t take much convincing for you to be dragged outside, as the high was settling in and you suddenly became a social butterfly. the three of you arrived poolside, where you were greeted by more of your peers. you wouldn’t call them your friends. 

  the exception was jimin, who you were surprised to see. he was very amicable and well-liked amongst social circles, but wild parties were never quite his scene. some of jungkook’s group mates had an affinity for nights out, but you and jungkook attended a specific genre of parties that the others didn’t vibe with on the regular.

  you smiled a little too wide. “jimin!”

  the group you approached sat poolside on a couch, as jimin scooted over to make room for. you barely fit, but he made sure to make it work for one of his best friends’ girlfriend. stumbling a bit when you squeezed past others’ knees, he offered his arm to help steady you.

  “hey, y/n. jungkook went somewhere else?” he asked slowly, examining your face. 

  jimin had a beer in his hand and appeared significantly more sober than the other partygoers, who were now immersed back into their previous conversation after your arrival. suzy and yoojung were laughing with the others, probably now too high and drunk to even remember that they walked over with you. meanwhile, jimin had his jacket on, as if he was right about to leave until you came outside. his mind was changed when he saw how wasted you were.

  you looked around, hoping the fresh air would help you focus. “mmm, yeah. think he’s with jaehyun.”

  it didn’t. it also felt like hours since you last spotted your boyfriend, but you were having fun. however, that wasn’t what jimin was concerned about.

  “you’re doing okay?” jimin questioned, a frown tugging at his lips. 

  if it wasn’t someone like jimin who knew you well, it wouldn’t be so obvious that you were now quite inebriated. your giggles were a little too loud and you would never stumble in high heels sober. 

  when you didn’t answer, jimin finished the last of his drink and set it on the table in front of you before standing up. there was a glint of worry in his eyes. 

  he said, “stay right there. i’m going to get you some water and find jungkook.”

  truthfully, you didn’t want him to locate your boyfriend, but jimin was already off. you huffed some hair out of your face. you didn’t think you were in that bad of a shape. 

  now that there was room on the couch, you were able to move over. when jimin left, you noticed that the girl next to you was watching the interaction the entire time. she was young and the doe-like expression on her face read that this was her first time at hotel azure. she was dressed to the nines and carried herself with energy.

  “hi, you’re nova!” it was more of an exclaimation than a question, when she smiled at you.

  your mood dampened at this. you did not have time to be entertaining whatever lucky rookie idol she was, probably scoring a luky invite. you also despised being called your stage name when you weren’t in front of a camera or fans. however, you put on your best plastered on smile.

  “hi. you are?” you asked, wanting to try to be polite.

  she ignored it. “wow, so it’s true then?” she asked. “you’re dating jungkook! and you were just talking to jimin, you must be so close with all of bts!”

  it was like an immediate headache onset, as you tried not to wince at her nearly screaming into your ear. the music was loud, but not that loud. at least she acknowledged you first, some people often went all in by just talking about jungkook. you would have engaged in actual conversation with her if she didn’t ignore your first attempt.

  “y/n, try this!”

  a red solo cup was pushed in front of your face and you didn’t think twice about taking a sip. anything to not hear the girl drone on about your boyfriend. it was sour and medicinal at the same time, causing you to make a face. the actor who passed it to you chuckled, as you gave it back.

  you coughed. “that was disgusting.”

  for some reason, the smell of the drink alone made your head hurt. you mumbled an ‘excuse me’ at the young idol, who was still talking about bts the entire time that interaction with the drink happened, and got up. your legs were weak. 

  for a while, you were walking around with no purpose, observing those around you blankly. when the drinks and the drugs and the desire to fit in faded away, it was boring. 

  you wondered if you actually liked being at these parties or if you were there just because. the “just because” could have been anything - just because it was expected by your circle, just because it was the only way to let out steam from the demands of your job. maybe even. . .just because of jungkook.

  “looking for your boyfriend?”

  at some point, you wandered over to the shadowy corner of the rooftop, where someone was smoking a joint. you tried your best to recall his name, as you’d just been on a variety show with him, but the best you could do was remember that he was a member of winner. you winced at yet another mention of jungkook, but ignored it again.

  he held the joint out as an offer and you accepted without hesitation, letting the smoke fill your insides. it was easy to ignore the burn in your throat when you’d already been putting random substances into your body since the night began.

  “not really,” you admitted, though you did scan the crowd when you did.

  he cocked an eyebrow. “oh? aren’t you two always hand in hand at these things?” he made a gesture, referring to the party as a whole.

  a year or two ago, you would have spent the entire party on jungkook’s lap and exclusively mingled and drank from that same spot. as time went on and jungkook began attending parties and clubs without you, it was a growing occurrence that you began doing your own thing when you appeared with him.

  “dunno,” was all you could say, not wanting to talk more about it.

  it appeared that he got the hint, dropping the subject of jungkook. instead, he failed to hide the once over he made of your appearance and you fought a shiver. you felt like you were naked under his stare, as your skin-tight maxi dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. you never felt unsafe to wear what you wanted on a night out - albeit, your boyfriend was usually with you.

  “you cold? want my jacket, sweetie?” he asked, sugar lacing every one of his words.

  that’s when you became alert, despite your body’s lack of sobriety working against you. he had taken a half-step towards you and you instantly stepped backwards. you’d never been so uncomfortable, but it was a struggle to steady yourself.

  you mustered up some solidity in your voice. “no. you can back up now,” you said, handing the joint back to him. “thanks.”

  he didn’t get the hint. “then, do you wanna go inside with me? where’s it’s warmer?”

  the smirk on his face sent off alarms in your head, as you continued to walk away, he still remained close to you when you did. 

  “i said i’m good. you’re getting weird, so back up,” you repeated, eyes darting around to see if anyone would step in.

  instead, everyone was still lost in their own worlds. some people were laughing away, trashing the bar on the other end of the rooftop. the people you were with on the couch were taking shots. nobody was noticing the interaction between you and this man.

  when he took a firm grip on your arm, you thought you were about to throw up. you noticed that you hadn’t even been walking straight and when you blinked, he was already in front of you. your words couldn’t find themselves when you saw double everywhere you turned. you were fucked and you couldn’t even defend yourself.

  then, it happened.

  when you jumped at the sound of a sudden impact, you thought that you were the one who fell down. but, there was no pain. there was a round of gasps. there was yelling. there was a body on the ground and it was the man’s.

  “are you fucking crazy?! don’t you put your dirty ass hands on her ever again or i’ll kill you with my bare hands, asshole!”

  the voice belonged to jungkook. it was the first time you’d seen him all night. he was standing over the man’s body, yelling further profanities at him. you saw red - both on his knuckles and in his bloodshot eyes. 

  you let out a scream when the man suddenly got to his feet, lunging at jungkook. this was when others ran in, straining to peel their two bodies away from each other. 

  people stopped to watch, but it was almost dystopian to see that some didn’t even care. they continued taking shots and smoking their joints. it was a daze of glimmer and drugs that only existed in the penthouse suite of hotel azure - where the rich and famous didn’t have time for scuffles. 

  “jungkook, stop!” you screeched, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes.

  it took three people to pull jungkook alone, as others also came to the rescue of the other man. jaehyun and yugyeom each clutched onto one of jungkook’s arms, while bambam stood between the two. it looked like they had all chased jungkook from inside the penthouse, who had slammed the sliding door open.

  when jungkook picked up a glass beer bottle in his rage, you almost ran in yourself. he’d swatted jaehyun and yugyeom’s grips away to do so. thankfully, it was jimin who dashed in to swipe the object away from jungkook’s grasp, before the situation escalated to disastrous.

  if jimin didn’t wrestle the weapon out of jungkook’s hands, it would have been detrimental beyond saving. 

  “you piece of shit!” snarled the man, who spat in jungkook’s direction. “your little girlfriend should know how much of a piece of shit you are, too!”

  at that, you froze. jungkook only narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to continue. the next few moments didn’t seem real. his friends took the opportunity to take hold of him again, now with bambam joining in and trying to talk some sense into him.

  “kook, calm down. seriously, you need to just - “

  jungkook shot back, ignoring bambam. “you better shut your fucking mouth.” through gritted teeth, he kept urging for jaehyun and yugyeom to let go of him, which they thankfully didn’t.

  he only chuckled and your heart dropped when he turned to you. “nah, you must already know he’s a piece of shit. you must be cool with that and with the fact that he’s fucking his backup dancer.”

  what he said was loud and clear, but you didn’t even register it. you thought you were dreaming. you didn’t know what to do.

betrayal had a funny effect on people and on you, it was seething fury.

  if you were sober, it would have been your turn to lunge at someone. you considered it and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. taking off your heels and making strides towards the man, nobody expected you to clock the man right in the jaw. he yelped, stumbling backwards from the impact. in your state, you only just realized that you’d actually hit him with one of your shoes.

  “that was for me, you creep,” you hissed, as he cussed loudly at his now bloody nose. 

  you even pondered pushing him into the pool, but decided it wasn’t worth it. the adrenaline in your veins - and whatever other substances were in there - wasn’t enough to distract you from the pit in your stomach from what the man said. something in you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being untrue - your gut told you otherwise. 

  you stared at jungkook, searching for any rebuttal. however, you knew the look on his face. it was the truth. not once did jungkook even try to dispute the accusation. your anger died down now and you were left feeling like you were floating. this couldn’t be real.

  it was now jungkook’s turn to stand frozen. you didn’t have time for this or for him. even his friends were frozen and you didn’t know what emotions were on their faces. shocked, but at what? that he was cheating on you or that he just got exposed? reality was beginning to sink in and the only thing you knew was that you needed to get out of there. you thought you looked like the biggest joke in the world, whether his friends knew about it or not.

  “what do you think you’re doing? go after her!” 

  that was jimin’s voice, horrified that his friend was just passively watching you run out of there. jungkook finally made a sprint for it. you’d pushed past several people and jungkook didn’t catch up to you until you reached the elevator.

  your vision was waning and the source could have been either the situation or your body finally giving up on you from what you had consumed all night. you needed to sit down. hurriedly, you jammed the button to close the elevator door, but a hand stuck out to force it open.

  jungkook was pleading. “y/n, just one second - “

  “no, get away from me.”

  “look, let’s talk! please!” he cried, trying to enter the elevator with you.

  at this point, you were shoving him away. you didn’t care, you needed him out of your face before you began crying. he wasn’t fighting back at all, letting you continuously push him, but didn’t move an inch. 

  “you’re scum to me,” you growled, eventually giving up and tripped backwards from your own force.

  the elevator closed and for thirteen long floors, it was just you and him in that one space.

  “please, let’s communicate - isn’t that what you always wanted for us?” jungkook said and did his best to get you to meet his eyes. “bug, come o -”

  the fire in your eyes was nothing like he’d ever seen before from you. “don’t you dare call me that ever again!” 

  bug was his special name for you, short for lovebug. you used to get upset when he would call you your full name over bug. in that moment, it sickened you to hear it.

  everything began clicking in your head. the way he rarely called you when he was on tour. the slow buildup of disinterest in your wellbeing. going to places that he always went to without you. being secretive of what he was doing on his phone. this behaviour multiplied recently and with another world tour for bts lined up, you now knew why.

  jungkook was living an entirely different life away from you. you just thought he would never have it in him. not the kind and sweet jungkook you met all those years ago.

  you ripped off the tennis bracelet from your wrist, which jungkook had given you for your eighteenth birthday. a look of defeat rested on his face when you hurled it at him, which he didn’t even bother to dodge. he knew he deserved it. 

  the elevator dinged and you made a beeline for the first door you saw. you weren’t even running, but jungkook dashed to meet you there. you let out a cry of frustration when he stood right in front of you, blocking the entrance. 

  “move or you’ll regret it.”

  he ignored you and you instead side-stepped away, using all your energy to exit through the next door before jungkook could realize. he tried blocking you again, but only caught a bit of your force because you were too fast.

  the entire time this was happening, you’d been trying to dial someone, anyone. none of your group mates were answering. you didn’t have any friends that weren’t at the party upstairs. the last resort was your manager, who you were about to call, when jungkook stood in front of you again.

  “y/n, please. i’ll get on my knees if i have to,” jungkook begged and you could see that he was fighting tears. “please, i just want to talk.”

  however, you could also see that jungkook was far from sober. he was in a worse state than you were. a bruise was to soon form on his jaw and his hair was disheveled. it was the lowest you’d ever seen him.

  for a split second, you tried. you wanted to try and see the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. you searched and searched. 

  “what? i’ve asked you for years to communicate in this relationship and it only becomes important after you cheat on me?” 

  jungkook knew he was defeated, but he still looked at you with those same pleading eyes. “i know i don’t deserve you - “

  “i don’t even recognize you!” you interrupted. “i don’t even know who you are!”

  both of you knew that you were right. something went wrong along the way. you were barefoot and exhausted, no longer with light in your eyes. jungkook was pitiful and lost - lost in his fame, in the parties, and from you. 

  that night at hotel azure should have been the end. the storybook fairytale should have been over. in that moment, you would have even moved as far as you could and ran away from the dread of the life you were living. you gave up that night.

  unfortunately, in the craze of the night’s events and the substances swimming in your bodies, both you and jungkook forgot who and where you were.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: breaking news! dispatch releases exclusive photos of bts’ jungkook and s.iren’s nova, reveals that they are dating

  you’d been in the big hit company building countless of times over the years, but would have never imagined yourself sitting in their board room with their most senior executives. to make matters worse, several high-ranking representatives from your company sat in the same room, including your ceo and your own manager. at the head of the table were you and jungkook, both stone-faced and unable to look at each other. 

  entering the room, you considered yourself all alone. your manager was pissed off at you. your group mates hadn’t spoken to you since the news broke, except for sooah. she only warned you to make sure that nobody knew you were high when it happened. the last thing the group needed was an additional scandal where their main vocalist gets sentenced to prison for possession. and, of course, you now had no boyfriend. there was nobody there for you.

  “they’ve been building evidence for a long time now, clearly.”

  to make matters more humiliating, the company executives were broadcasting the dispatch article on the big screen in front of everyone. the head of public relations, mr. lee, swiped through each photo released like a slideshow.

  the first picture was you and jungkook outside of your building complex. another was a sneaky shot that barely captured you and jungkook in the same taxi. it went on and on, until the last photo that depicted you and jungkook standing in front of hotel azure, which was less than twenty-four hours ago at this point. 

  after escaping the party and jungkook, you spent the rest of your night crying and throwing up at home. it was late when you left and you knew you couldn’t sleep a wink after what transpired. you tried your very best and it was seven in the morning when you thought your eyes were finally closing, until your phone began blowing up. 

  at first, it was just your manager and you didn’t want to hear about how she found out that you were partying late again. then, not even an hour after, your social media began blowing up with notifications. 

  i was trying to warn you, the last text from your manager read. you realized what she was talking about, as dispatch probably gave the “courtesy” to inform the company before the article went out. 

  you thought about your group members, feeling nothing but guilt. you saw what happened to other female idols, whose dating scandals tarnished their “sisterhood” with their members forever. you were terrified of that happening to you.

  now, you sat in this suffocating board room, still hungover, and your entire future at stake. the only thing you felt regretful about was not just the impact of your choices on both your group members, but the rest of jungkook’s. they were one of the, if not the, most popular groups in the country.

  while the room went over the pictures that were released, you were silent. you long understood the consequences of the relationship and accepted the risk. when the scandal actually broke, though, the fear you felt was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. on the other hand, jungkook was only apologizing profusely and was in tears. you didn’t realize it until then, but there were also streams of tears running down your face. 

  you weren’t sure what the main reason for your tears were. something told you that you’d yet to process the grief of jungkook’s betrayal because sitting next to him felt numb. last night, only anger settled underneath your skin. now, being inches away from the man you called your best friend and partner for years, you felt nothing. it was almost an out-of-body experience. 

  the only way to not replay every single moment he was with her and not you, was to repress the grief. you pretended like it was invisible and out of reach. with that, you figured the tears were for the innocent third parties that were going to be dragged down by the scandal - the executives in the room, jungkook’s group, your group, all of them.

  “quit crying! we have no choice, there’s too much evidence - we must publicly confirm the relationship.”

  you took a deep breath. right now, you had yet to actually tell anyone that you and jungkook were no longer together. a part of you was too embarrassed to admit that you were cheated on. you also figured that word from the scene at the rooftop party likely already spread throughout social circles. you decided to swallow it down and finally say it aloud.

  this was the first time that you spoke up. “but,” you started, “jungkook and i. . .we broke up last night.”

  the last thing you expected was a round of laughter. you thought you were imagining it, but when you looked up, the board members were indeed doing so. you were suffering enough, but now you were getting laughed at. your fists were balled up underneath the table.

  “are you kidding me?” mr. lee said. “i don’t care. years ago, you and jungkook agreed that, should your relationship be exposed, you would face the repercussions of its reception.”

  “mr. lee - “ jungkook started, but was hushed by his company executives.

  when mr. lee tapped on his laptop again and cut to the comments section of the article, you thought you would see hate comments. death threats, even. but, you were stunned to face waves of positivity. 

  the tone he used, though, was devoid of any. “oh, i love this couple so much,” mr. lee began reading the comments in a monotone voice that only made the situation feel even more of a joke. “wah. they. are. such. a. beautiful. couple. i’m not even mad.”

  you swore your eyes were deceiving you. stealing your first glance at jungkook since walking into the room, he, too, was shocked and his jaw hung low. 

  “talk about a power couple, congratulations! here, someone said: hope this is true, nova is luckiest girl in the world - love this. then, a bunch of good luck’s, and blah, blah, blah.”

  there was a wave of anger when most of the comments called you the lucky one and not once the other way around.

  regardless, the reception of international fans was generally uplifting, which was no surprise to you. what really got to you was that it didn’t stop there - the screen scrolled past dozens and dozens of korean comments that exemplified full support towards the relationship. this was a true mark of positive reception, as they were the fans you feared the most.

  as the years went on and jungkook rose in popularity, you became increasingly nervous about your relationship. you watched so many of your peers receive horrible backlash from fans after being exposed for dating, especially the women. being a female in the industry was hard enough and you weren’t sure if you were going to be one of the strong ones in this situation. 

  “so that your fans don’t feel ‘betrayed’, we are going to let the media know that you have been dating for a few months - don’t even think about telling people that you’ve been together since 2013,” mr. lee announced, which snapped you back to the conversation.

  you dared to speak again. “mr. lee, jungkook and i have broken up,” you reiterated, wondering if nobody heard you the first time.

  he rolled his eyes. “i understand. do you also understand that this reaction is basically unheard of? have you noticed that you’ve gained almost a million followers on instagram?”

  this time, it was the public relations representative from big hit that cleared her throat and stood up. she joined mr. lee in front of the board members, who began murmuring in approval amongst themselves.

  “jungkook. y/n. as you know, the love yourself world tour was just announced. s.irens is also preparing for a major comeback and potential tour. this relationship,” she said, “will be used to accelerate the successes of both of your groups.”

  a chart appeared on the screen. it showed data from the last twenty-four hours, including both group’s increase in social media numbers, streams, and search engine hits. 

  “consider it an exchange for breaching your no-dating clause five years ago. until further notice, this relationship, at least in the eyes of the public, will remain.”

  this had to be a joke. however, you remembered what you and jungkook were. you were idols. you were puppets of the machine that was the korean entertainment industry. chess pieces. no matter how rich or famous either of you got, it all boiled down to this. 

  the fame game was one that was never won.

  jungkook said, slowly, “you’re asking us to date. . .as a publicity stunt?”

  at this, you had no choice. a few individuals in the room, including jungkook, jumped when you shot up from your seat. you rose in order to bow at a ninety degree angle in front of all the senior executives, ignoring how sick you were to your stomach.

  “please,” you began, eyes squeezed shut. “i want nothing to do with jeon jungkook.”

  of course, the decision was already made and your pleas were dismissed. however, you didn’t see the way jungkook watched you beg your company to not force you in a relationship with a man you no longer loved. his mouth went dry and there’d never been such a moment in his life where he hated himself more. he did this. he pushed you to this point and he betrayed you.

  from that moment on, jungkook saw this as an opportunity. he destroyed everything that you and he had ever built. now, the only thing he ever sought from this point on, was redemption.

  even though your companies informed you two that you could publicly “breakup” following a year post-dispatch release, jeon jungkook never lost sight of the redemption he sought. they wanted you to be the so-called it couple of the industry and he decided he would do them one better and make it real. for the next year, jungkook would do everything in his power to win you back.

  LATEST NEWS: bts’ jungkook and s.irens’ nova confirms their relationship! read more about big hit’s response: “they met as friends and the connection blossomed from there”

  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. for clarity purposes (because i feel like the non-chronological format may get confusing), y/n and jungkook get back together during this publicity stunt and are 100% for real dating in chapter 1. the publicity stunt arc is covered in chapters 6-8, as the next chapter focuses on why/how their relationship began breaking down before the hotel azure incident.

[lazyflower48]

Dazai and Ranpo: The Two Geniuses of the ADA

The thought about making a post about Dazai and Ranpo's teamwork has been plaguing my mind for a while now, and so I finally found some time and decided to go through with it.

So let's talk about one of my favourite underrated duos for a moment. The two geniuses of the ADA- Dazai and Ranpo. Two people who make a wonderful team and are actually, in my opinion, the backbone of the agency.

What I find interesting is that (though I believe that Dazai respects and admires all members of the ADA) Dazai openly admires Ranpo A LOT. He's always quick to praise Ranpo (basically fanboying over him and it's quite adorable to see Dazai gush over someone like that other than Oda) and in 'Dazai's Entrance Exam' we see him being surprised over the fact that Ranpo's ability is not actually an ability and we see him further praise Ranpo's intellect after finding that out.

Despite the fact that Dazai is a huge mystery, even to the people around him, Ranpo figured out that there was something up with Dazai in just a single glance (in 'Dazai's entrance exam'). And despite knowing that Dazai was probably hiding a sinister past, he didn't press him any further for details (probably in order to respect his privacy or his wish to not disclose his past OR maybe due to the the fact that knowing Dazai, he most likely wouldn't answer truthfully even if questioned about it)

What I also love is that even though both of them are extremely intelligent, their intellect differs in such a way that Ranpo is a master of deduction and Dazai is a master of manipulation (as stated by Kunikida in 'The Daily Routine of the Detective Agency'). However, one thing both of them share in common is that they both felt isolated due to their nature.

They may have limited interactions but their interactions are always my favourite, for instance-

1. Dazai's entrance exam - Dazai's admiration and respect towards Ranpo

2. Season 1 - Murder on D-Street - Dazai showing a good understanding of Ranpo's deduction process and acknowledging that Ranpo caught onto more details than him

3. Season 2 - "Mountains or sea?" " Sea. "

Showing their unspoken communication. They can read each other's minds at this point lol.

4. Season 3 - Ranpo basically acknowledging that Dazai would be a tough opponent to go up against by comparing Fyodor to him (sort of praising his intellect in a way)

5. Season 5 - The Strongest Man in the Agency- Ranpo

Dazai keeping an eye on Fyodor while leaving the rest to Ranpo

Dazai relying on his allies- trusting Ranpo to negotiate with Bram in order to undo the vampire curse.

6. Dead Apple - Ranpo seeing through Dazai's plan beforehand.

7. 55 minutes - Seeing through upcoming events beforehand, one thing Dazai made sure was to inform Ranpo about the whole fiasco on Standard Island in order to save the Agency in the end.

Also, sidenote: I found out that the Dazai and Ranpo duo is named Souheki, which translates to double jade. Now, I'm not sure if this information is fanon or canon (feels more like fanon tbh but I really like it because it's a pretty name)

Anyway, one thing we can say for sure is that as long as the two geniuses of the Agency- Souheki work together, the ADA will most likely remain undefeated cause no one really does it like them

Lastly, just some food for thought. I've always wondered how Dazai would react if he found out that Ranpo met Oda TWICE and the second time he met him was right before Oda went on to his certain death.

Honestly, I would LOVE to see more fleshed out and direct interactions between these two.

[willowsnook]

can i request a tall glass of vodka with lime? 🥰🥰

lando norris x gymnast!reader

It's always been you

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

Watching out the window as your plane landed, excitement bubbled inside you. You had flown out of Oklahoma City to Austin for the F1 race, all thanks to your friend, Lando.

Last year, when Quadrant was expanding into the US market, they signed you as one of their college athletic partners. As the captain of the University of Oklahoma's gymnastics team, you were already a standout. You met Lando when they launched the new program, and the two of you hit it off right away. With your demanding gymnastics schedule that you'd been used to since childhood, you understood the grind of high-level competition, and as you gained more attention after competing in the world gymnastics championship, you found yourself leaning on Lando to help cope with the pressure.

As you made your way down the escalator, you spotted Lando waiting with a smile at the bottom.

"Lando!" you called, jogging into his arms for a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

He grinned down at you with that boyish grin of his. "You too! Ready to go?"

You nodded, and the two of you headed toward the exit. Lando grabbed your bag off your shoulder and slung it over his, and you filled him in on your offseason workouts and the high expectations for your upcoming season. He listened attentively, amused by how carried away you got.

"I'm sorry," you giggled. "I've been rambling non-stop. Are you ready for the race weekend?"

"Yeah, I think so," he replied. "We've had good momentum lately, so I'm feeling good about it. I’m excited you'll get to see me race."

"Me too," you said, smiling. "And then maybe you can come see me compete in January or February."

"I’d like that," he said, shooting you a charming grin.

After checking into your hotel room, you met Lando back in the lobby. He had some promotional events with UT to attend, and you tagged along, planning to meet up with a few gymnasts you knew from their team.

"I'll meet you by the gym when I’m done, okay?" Lando said. You nodded, and after a quick goodbye, headed to the UT gym.

As soon as you walked in, you were pulled into a tight hug.

"Can’t believe you’re stepping into the gym when it’s not for a meet!" Sarah, one of the gymnasts, teased.

"All this burnt orange makes me want to gag," you joked, making her laugh.

You stripped off your sweatshirt, now in your sports bra and Nike Pros, and joined her on the floor to stretch and catch up.

Lando had finished up with McLaren and was tired of waiting outside for you with Oscar so they decided to just go in. You were showing Sarah something you had been working on for your bar routine and Lando was in awe watching you. The way you twisted your body that high off the ground with ease, eyes never losing focus on the bar.

"She’s incredible," Oscar muttered, starstruck.

"I know," Lando replied dreamily, a soft smile on his face.

Oscar smirked at the lovestruck expression. "Lovesick," he teased, and Lando playfully shoved him.

When you finished your routine, they applauded, causing you to give them a mock bow.

"You are amazing," Lando told you as you slipped your sweatshirt back on.

"Thanks," you said, smiling as you turned to hug Oscar. "Good to see you, Oscar."

"You too, Y/N. I’m glad we get to see you in person now so I don’t have to hear Lando’s daily updates about what you’re doing from your Instagram stories."

Lando’s face turned beet red, and you laughed loudly, your heart skipping a beat.

"My biggest fan," you teased, looking at Lando, who glared at Oscar before grabbing your hand and pulling you outside. "Come on, let’s go."

The next few days passed in a blur, with free practices and the sprint race keeping everyone busy. You spent a lot of time hanging out with Oscar’s girlfriend, Lily, and getting to know the McLaren team better.

Now, as you watched qualifying, your hands twisted together in nervous excitement as Lando sped around the track. When he secured pole position, you jumped up, cheering along with the team. As soon as he finished his interviews and made his way over to you, his eyes lit up, and you ran to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

"Congrats! You did so good!" you exclaimed, hugging him tightly. He said nothing at first, just smiled down at you, his gaze soft.

"What?" you asked, feeling a little self-conscious under his stare.

"Nothing," he murmured, chuckling to himself before wrapping his arms around you again. "I have to go to bed early tonight, but do you want to get dinner and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure," you agreed.

A few hours later, you found yourself sprawled out on Lando’s bed, munching on pizza. You had insisted on watching Cars for "inspiration," much to his amusement. But tonight, Lando was quieter than usual, and it was starting to throw you off.

After finishing your slice, you stood up to move the pizza box and faced him with your hands on your hips.

"What’s going on?" you asked, noticing the tension in his expression. "You’ve been so quiet tonight."

"I don’t know, I’m just... thinking," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"About...?" you prompted, concern creeping into your voice.

He fidgeted for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I don’t want to mess this up," he finally said.

"What do you mean?" you asked softly.

"I like you, Y/N," he confessed. "More than a friend. It’s always been you that's been there for me to lean on. I get so excited every time you call, and I miss you like crazy when we’re apart. I know our lives are insane with our schedules, but seeing you today after qualifying it all just hit me and I really want to try and make something work."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you sat in front of him, taking his hand. "I like you too, Lando. But how would we even do this? We’re rarely in the same country."

"Honestly, I don’t think much would change for now," he said. "We already talk all the time, and I know once your season starts, you won’t be able to travel much. But I can come to see you. I just want to stop torturing myself wondering if you’re seeing other guys."

You laughed softly at his vulnerability, crawling into his lap. His hands circled your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"We can take it slow," you murmured, running your fingers through his curls. "My post-grad plan is to keep training for worlds and the Olympics. There are plenty of international gyms."

"Like in Monaco," he said without hesitation, making you smile.

"Like in Monaco," you agreed. "Can I kiss you now?"

His head shot up, and the eagerness in his eyes made you smirk. You brought your lips to his, savoring the moment as you set a leisurely pace.

"Will you stay here with me tonight?" he whispered against your lips.

"Yeah, I already brought my stuff," you said sheepishly. His grin widened before he pulled you into another kiss.

Even though you wanted to keep things slow and private, all of that flew out the window after Lando crossed the finish line first the next day. Fans watched him after celebrating on the podium as he scanned the crowd, eyes eagerly searching for you.

When he spotted you, everything else seemed to blur away. The cameras followed him as he jumped off the stage, making a beeline for where you stood with the McLaren team. He pulled you into his arms, and before you could say a word, he kissed you.

It was supposed to be a private moment, one shared just between the two of you, but the world was watching. The roar of the crowd faded as your lips met his. The electricity of that moment, the heat from the race, the adrenaline—it all melted away as Lando’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. You smiled into the kiss, your heart pounding with exhilaration.

As you pulled away, slightly breathless, you noticed the sea of camera flashes. Fans in the grandstands were screaming, and the McLaren team was beaming behind you.

Lando’s face was flushed with joy, eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. "I couldn’t wait," he whispered with a sheepish grin.

You laughed softly, touching his cheek. "So much for keeping it private," you teased.

He shrugged, not caring in the slightest. "I don’t care who knows. I’m just happy you’re here with me."

The next few hours were a whirlwind. Pictures of the two of you kissing were plastered all over social media, fans gushing about the newest F1 couple. The headlines read, “Lando Norris Celebrates Victory with a Kiss from Gymnast Y/N Y/L/N!”

[little-diable]

The conference - Carlisle Cullen (smut)

I don’t even know where this idea came from. I just love dbf!fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Reader and Carlisle go way back since he is her father’s best friend. But after a shared night on her 21st birthday, he left her behind and called it a mistake. Now, years later, they cross paths again at a conference for doctors. It doesn’t take long till the distance between them grows smaller and smaller.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, age gap (duh), some sprinkles of angst, dbf!Carlisle, somewhat public smut

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!doctor!reader (2.3k words)

Chatter filled the air, loud sounds that rang in her ears while she pushed through the crowd. Every now and then she spotted a few familiar faces she made a note to greet later on after familiarizing herself with the rooms she’d spend the upcoming weekend in.

(Y/n) had arrived at the conference hotel a few minutes ago, driven on by the excitement she couldn’t shake and hadn’t been able to swallow for the past weeks. She loved meeting new colleagues at these events, loved learning about new medical procedures and techniques she couldn’t wait to try at home. A nice getaway that taught her more about new developments than any reading could.

“Doctor (y/n)!” She was forced to a sudden halt, eyes meeting a pair of familiar blue ones. Instantly she was pulled in for a handshake, making a smile grow on her lips as Tom, the elderly colleague she hadn’t seen in years, greeted her. “I was hoping you’d find time to come to the conference!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world! It’s so good to see you, Tom, is your wife here too?” Tom only shook his head but didn’t get the chance to reply verbally as he was interrupted by another person nearing. Her eyes flickered towards the approaching man, and her breath instantly got stuck in her throat.

She had prayed that he wouldn’t be here, that he was too busy back home to leave the Forks hospital. It had been years since she had last seen him, ever since that twenty first birthday of hers that had flipped her whole world around.

“Doctor Cullen, have you met doctor (y/n)? She’s a brilliant young colleague from New York.” Heat flushed through her at the praise. (Y/n) had to avert her eyes, looking back atTom who was still staring up at Carlisle.

“I have, it’s nice to see you again, (y/n).” She only managed to shoot him a quick smile before mumbling something about catching up with them later. Her feet carried her away from them, set on blending in with the crowd to hide away from the man whose lips she could still feel pressed against hers, the man whose words still rang in her ears to remind her that he was her father’s best friend and that all of it had been a mistake.

It was foolish of her to think that she could hide away from him, all too aware of the secret he and his family had managed to keep for all these years. But she couldn’t talk to him, not even when their night together had happened years and years ago, his words were still too loud in her mind, his touch still too prominent.

“(Y/n)!” His voice shook through her body as his cold hand softly clamped down around her wrist. She was forced to a halt again, getting lost in the eyes that had once looked at her with something she hadn’t felt before, something reminding her of love and longing.

“Yes?” Her voice was strained, held back by the strength she used to keep herself somewhat composed. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to give in to the hurt she had managed to deal with for so long. The walls she had built around herself were tall and strong, she didn’t want to risk him tearing them down all over again.

Carlisle stared down at her for a moment, pondering over his words before he let go of her. He stood a step back with his jaw clenched and his eyes turning into a darker shade, “It’s good to see you.”

And then he left her side without another word.

……

She had felt his eyes on her the whole time, even at dinner where he had been sitting a few tables over. Everywhere she went, (y/n) felt his gaze lingering, leaving her torn between the way her body was aching for his closeness and the anger she still felt.

With a relieved sigh she stepped out of her shoes after entering her hotel room, ready to pass out and sleep the day away. All her mind could focus on was Carlisle, the man she had never been able to let go of and perhaps never will.

She didn’t get far, frozen on her way to the bathroom as the sound of somebody knocking on her door reached her. Slowly, (y/n) walked back towards the entrance, already having a suspicion of who was standing on the other side.

She could only stare up at him, letting her eyes take in his handsome features before wordlessly stepping aside to let Carlisle in. For a moment or two, they let silence engulf them, wrapping itself around them as (y/n) sat down on the bed.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I am sorry I didn’t reach out and I’m sorry for leaving you like that. That wasn’t fair on you.” Carlisle kept his distance as he spoke, fingers interlaced in front of himself while he kept his eyes focused on her frowning features.

“You’re right, it wasn’t fair. Especially calling it a mistake when we both know it wasn’t one.” His jaw muscles ticked in anger, staring at her with something she couldn’t pinpoint - anger, annoyance and perhaps a speck of guilt. Whatever it was, it made her stomach sink, forced to accept that both could never escape the tension lingering between them.

“It was a mistake, (y/n)! I’m your father’s best friend, and so much older than you. This isn’t fair on you.” The last part of his rambling left her frozen, wondering if he had meant to voice it out like that. She cocked her head to the side while studying him for a moment or two.

“Not fair on me? What does that mean, Carlisle?” The sigh leaving him was stronger than anticipated, making him appear more confused and torn than she had ever seen him before. Something inside of her spurred her on to reach out her hand for him to take, to pull him closer before he settled on the mattress next to her.

“It was wrong of me to feel that way about you, (y/n). You deserve someone you can be with, someone your age who can be by your side whenever you need them to, and not somebody you’d have to hide.” Slowly, his hand was placed on her knee, squeezing it softly before trying to pull away again. But (y/n) was faster, settling her warm hand on top of his cold one to keep him close.

“But that’s my choice to make, isn’t it?” Her voice was low, barely carrying any strength as she looked at their hands. Perhaps it was foolish of her to chase something she hadn’t been able to reach for in years, something she should have gotten over years ago. And yet she couldn’t, she was drawn to Carlisle Cullen like a moth to a flame, like a trail of blood leading him straight to her fatal end.

“This isn’t right, sweetheart.” His pained voice drew her gaze up to him, getting lost in the pupils that have watched the world change for the past three hundred and so years. Carlisle let go of her hand as he stood to his full height, chasing the distance once again to leave her behind with a heavy heart.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, try to get some sleep in.” And with those words he left her alone with her darkening thoughts.

……

Her eyes were drawn to his frame at any given chance while she held her talk. (Y/n) could barely focus on her presentation, fully focusing on Carlisle and the proud expression tugging on his features. Their conversation from yesterday evening kept replaying in her mind, leaving her distracted by the emotions whispering to her.

She knew that they couldn’t leave things like that, they needed to have another talk, even though she wasn’t sure what else was left to be shared. Ever since that night she had wondered if there was something she could have said to him, something to beg Carlisle to fight for whatever had been lingering between them, words that had lost their meaning over the years.

“Thank you for your attention!” Her legs trembled as she walked off stage, hiding away in the hallway to try and collect herself. Her heart was pounding, and even though one could blame her nerves for it, she knew that Carlisle was the cause of it, distracting her from all things she needed to do at this conference.

“(Y/n),” his soft voice ripped her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering up to meet his concerned ones. He was standing close, towering over her like a colossus. His hands found her arms, holding onto her while she took a few deep breaths. “Atta girl, you’ve done so well up there, I’m so proud of you.”

“Carlisle,” she choked on his name, letting her head rest against his chest while he pulled her in. The walls began to crash down one by one, leaving nothing but dusty clouds he walked through effortlessly. She lost all grip on her strength as she shifted her weight onto her toes to press her lips against his. A chance to chase whatever it was her heart was aching for, a moment of weakness that was about to lead their path into another direction.

He didn’t fight the kiss like she feared he would, only pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. This kiss felt nothing like the ones they had shared that one night years ago, it was rawer, filled with unspoken longings that had only grown over the years.

He broke the kiss with darkening eyes, letting his gaze wander down the hallway before he pulled her with him. Within moments she found herself pressed against the door of an empty room, engulfed by darkness. Their lips found back together like magnets made to fit as his hands shuffled her dress up to her waist.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Carlisle’s voice didn’t carry any strength, it seemed as if he tried to remind himself of his boundaries, trying to rip himself out of the waves of pleasure he was drowning in. Nothing but meaningless words that were forgotten the second her hands found his belt.

“We should, fuck, don’t you dare stop touching me, Carlisle.” She freed his hardening cock from his suit trousers, wrapping her hand around it while he pushed her damp panties aside. (Y/n) wrapped one leg around his waist, trapping him against her to try and keep him close in fear of him stepping away once again.

But it seemed as if Carlisle had long lost the fight, a victim to the emotions both couldn’t shake. His cold fingers circled her pulsing bundle, offering the perfect contrast to the heat swallowing her wholly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re still so tight for me. Did you let somebody else fuck you?” She was almost embarrassed at the way she shook her head and mumbled a soft “No”. (Y/n) hadn’t been able to touch somebody else, not after experiencing what being with Carlisle was like. A groan left him, spurring her on to pump him faster, feeling him twitch against her hold.

“Will you fuck me? Please, Carlisle. Remind me of what it feels like to be yours.” (Y/n) was proud of herself for managing to speak coherent sentences, even though she was slowly losing her grip on reality. Her distraction only grew as Carlisle pushed her hand away from his cock to align himself with her dripping heat.

His lips found hers the second he pushed into her, forcing her tightness to adjust to him again after all these years. Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up, forcing both her legs around his waist to fuck her against the door. Darkness consumed every part of her body, guiding her through the sensation keeping her trapped.

Groans and curses left them both, clawing out of them while they fucked like they had dreamt of doing for years now. It felt almost too perfect to have him buried so deep inside of her, a perfect match both had been searching for for way too long.

“You feel like heaven, sweetheart. But fuck, you’re my downfall.” (Y/n) could only moan as a response to his rasped words, clinging to the man who fucked her harder and faster with every passing thrust. Her insides tingled, goosebumps littered her skin, all while giving every part of herself to the man she was still in love with.

“Carlisle,” she sobbed his name, head thrown back against the door, legs quivering around his waist. (Y/n) was close, ready to give her all to the man who fucked her with his mind set on drawing a powerful orgasm out of her. She scratched at his neck, trying to hold on but miserably failing to do so as she was thrown off the cliff.

Carlisle pressed his lips against hers to muffle her sounds, swallowing the moans clawing through her as he kept snapping his hips against hers. It took him a few more ferocious thrusts to follow her down the edge, to let go of a groan himself that vibrated on her lips.

She clung to him for a few more moments, needing to catch her breath before she could stand on her trembling feet again. Carlisle kept his grip on her waist, only letting go to redress himself before pulling (y/n) in again.

“Please don’t call this another mistake.” Her whispers left his heart aching, forcing him to shake his head before softly kissing her.

“I promise, sweetheart, this wasn’t and will never be a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go and I will work hard to make up for our lost time.”

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 1✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language, "cheating", Jensen being a dick

Word Count: 5703

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You groaned annoyed, mumbling about how you so don’t wanna go there. Today was the premiere of The Boys Season 5 in Paris and while you were so excited for it a few weeks ago, it changed when your co-star Jensen Ackles was also announced to be there. Ever since you got the role as a love interest of Soldier Boy and attended the set for the first time, he had been giving you a hard time.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to muster up the enthusiasm you once had for the event. The glittering gown and perfectly styled hair felt like a costume rather than a celebration. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your clutch and headed out the door, knowing there was no way you could avoid the premiere.

As you arrived at the venue, the flashing cameras and cheering fans were overwhelming. You plastered on your best smile and made your way down the red carpet, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. Just as you expected, there he was—Jensen Ackles, looking annoyingly handsome in his tailored suit, chatting effortlessly with the press.

You tried to steer clear of him, but as you approached the interview area, you were ushered to stand next to him. His smile widened when he saw you, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you uneasy.

“Y/N, great to see you”, he said smoothly, his voice dripping with charm.

“Jensen”, you replied curtly, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious.

The interviewer asked a few generic questions about the season, and you answered politely, keeping your responses as professional as possible. Jensen, on the other hand, seemed to relish in making subtle jabs, his teasing comments slipping through his charming facade.

After the interview, you tried to escape into the crowd, but Jensen followed, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

“Come on, Y/N, lighten up a bit”, he grinned.

“Lighten up? Yeah, fuck off”, you snapped.

You knew you didn’t have to see him for over six months after that premiere, so you couldn’t hold back your dislike anymore. But then there was the next press worker, wanting to have an interview with the two of you.

“Excuse me, Y/N, Jensen, can we get a quick interview?”, the journalist asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

You sighed inwardly, forcing a smile. “Of course”.

Jensen stepped closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious. “Yeah, let’s do it”.

The journalist began with a few standard questions about the upcoming season, and you answered them with practiced ease, focusing on the storylines and your character’s development. Jensen, to his credit, kept his comments professional and respectful, avoiding any of his usual teasing.

Then, the journalist asked, “So, how has it been working together, especially considering the intense dynamic between your characters this season?”.

You glanced at Jensen, who met your gaze steadily. “It’s been… challenging”, you admitted, choosing your words carefully. “But I think those challenges have helped us bring more authenticity to our roles”.

Jensen nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. It’s definitely been a unique experience, and I think it adds a lot of depth to the on-screen relationship”.

The journalist seemed satisfied with the answer and wrapped up the interview with a few more questions before thanking you both.

The evening wore on, and after the premiere, you joined your colleagues at a nearby bar to unwind. The atmosphere was lively, with everyone celebrating the successful event. You were starting to relax and enjoy yourself when, to your disappointment, Jensen walked in. He greeted everyone warmly and, despite your best efforts to ignore him, his gaze seemed to linger on you.

You tried to focus on your conversation with another co-star, laughing at a shared joke, but you could feel Jensen’s eyes on you. It was starting to grate on your nerves. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, ordering another drink. Jensen approached, standing beside you as he waited for his own drink. You could feel the tension in the air as he leaned in slightly closer.

“You and Antony seem awfully close tonight”, he mumbled, his tone laced with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink before responding. “We’re friends, Jensen. Not that it’s any of your business”.

He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid inside. “I wasn’t implying anything. Just an observation”.

“Well, keep your observations to yourself”, you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care anyway?”.

He looked up from his drink, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Maybe I care because I don’t like seeing you getting too close to other guys”.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Oh, please. You don’t get to act possessive now. We’ve barely managed to be civil to each other”.

He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Maybe I like a challenge. Keeps things interesting”.

You arched an eyebrow, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”.

His smile widened, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “Only when I’m around people who make me want to be better”.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “Is that your attempt at a compliment?”.

“Did it work?”, he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, forcing your expression to remain serious. “No, it didn’t work. And clearly, you’ve had too much to drink”.

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him standing at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way back to the group, but you didn’t look back. Joining your colleagues, you tried to immerse yourself in their conversation, but a part of you was still acutely aware of Jensen’s presence across the room.

Antony noticed your return and immediately pulled you into a lively discussion about an upcoming scene, his animated gestures and infectious energy helping to distract you. You laughed and chatted with the group, trying to shake off the lingering effects of your encounter with Jensen.

Every so often, you glanced over at the bar, catching glimpses of Jensen talking to others, his eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. It was irritating how he seemed to occupy your thoughts despite your efforts to ignore him.

As the night wore on, you found yourself loosening up, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. The camaraderie with your colleagues was comforting, and you enjoyed the lighthearted banter and shared stories.

Eventually, you called it a night. After saying your goodbyes to your colleagues, you made your way back to the hotel. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll, and your vision was slightly blurred as you fumbled with your room key.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels and began to change into something more comfortable. You opted for lace panties and a small, snug top, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against your skin. The room spun slightly as you moved, a clear sign that you’d had too much to drink.

Just as you were about to lay down, a knock echoed through the room, startling you. You frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour. Carefully, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole, your breath catching when you saw who it was.

“Jensen”, you muttered, unsure whether to be annoyed or curious.

You opened the door just enough to peer out at him. He looked a little unsteady himself, though his expression was serious.

“What are you doing here?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the alcohol muddling your thoughts.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay”, he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Can I come in for a minute?”.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to send him away, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. With a sigh, you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

Even though he had already seen you wearing less, you pulled on the your matching lace rope, crossing your arms as you looked at him. He was clearly way too drunk too. He watched you with a little smirk, his eyes lingering a bit longer than they should.

“You look pretty hot right now”, he said, his voice low and slightly slurred.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through your cheeks. “You’re drunk, Jensen. And so am I. This isn’t the time for compliments”.

He shrugged, leaning against the wall for support. “Maybe not, but it’s the truth”.

You sighed, feeling the exhaustion from the night catch up with you. “Why did you really come here, Jensen?”.

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious. “I told you, I wanted to make sure you got back okay. And… I guess I just didn’t want the night to end on a bad note”.

You shook your head, trying to make sense of his mixed signals. “You’ve already apologized, Jensen. I get it. But this—” you gestured between the two of you “—this isn’t helping”.

He took a step closer, his eyes softening. “I know. I just—”.

You held up a hand, stopping him. “No, Jensen. We’re both drunk and—”.

Before you could finish, Jensen stepped closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. Your back hit the wall, and before you could react, his lips were on yours. The kiss was urgent, fueled by the alcohol and the tension that had been building between you two for months.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. His hands were warm on your waist, and his lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your head spin even more than the alcohol. Despite everything, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you poured all your mixed emotions into the kiss.

It felt like a dam breaking, all the frustration, anger, and confusing attraction you’d been feeling rushing out at once. But then reality crashed.

“Jensen, we can’t do this”, you said, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck yes we can”, his voice husky with determination. With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his body pressing against yours. His kiss was even more intense this time, filled with a raw, desperate need that matched your own.

You tried to push him away, your mind battling with your emotions, but your body betrayed you. You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body against yours igniting a fire you hadn’t realized you were capable of feeling. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, and you found yourself responding with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair.

For a few moments, nothing else mattered. The room spun around you, but the only thing you were aware of was Jensen—his touch, his scent, the way his lips moved against yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

But then, a sliver of clarity broke through the haze again. You pulled back, panting, your eyes wide as you looked at him. “Jensen, we’re making a mistake. We’re drunk and—”.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Maybe. But right now I don’t care”.

With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, pulling you up onto his hips. You gasped against his mouth, feeling the hard press of his erection through your thin panties, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively, the friction and heat between you both intensifying with every passing second. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm and demanding, while his lips and tongue explored yours with a hunger that seemed to consume you both.

Jensen moved you to the bed, lowering you onto the soft mattress without breaking the kiss. You could feel the full weight of his body pressing down on you, the urgency in his movements mirroring your own. Despite everything, you found yourself craving his touch, needing more of the connection that had been denied for so long.

His hands slipped under your top, sliding up your sides and making you shiver at the sensation. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of lust and something else you couldn’t quite define. “Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His lips pressed against your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “You’re such a pain in the ass”, he mumbled against your neck, his breath hot and sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders. “And you’re an insufferable dick”, you shot back, your voice breathless and tinged with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

Jensen chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, making you gasp. “Guess that makes us even”, he murmured, his lips moving lower, grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, your body arching into his touch. Despite the alcohol and the confusion, you couldn’t deny the raw, primal attraction between you. It was maddening, infuriating, and utterly intoxicating.

His hands roamed your body with a sense of urgency, his touch igniting a fire wherever it landed. As his lips continued their exploration of your neck and collarbone, you couldn’t help but respond to him, your body moving instinctively to meet his.

Every kiss, every touch, was a battle, each of you pushing and pulling, testing the boundaries. It was a clash of wills as much as it was an act of passion, both of you trying to dominate and submit all at once.

Jensen’s hands slid under your top, pushing it up and over your head, discarding it carelessly to the side. His eyes raked over your body, dark with desire.

His lips crashed against yours again, and you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Jensen groaned, the sound low and guttural. “You know, you drove me crazy on set, grinding on my dick during that scene. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”. His voice was a mix of accusation and desire, the memory clearly affecting him as much as it had affected you.

You let out a breathless laugh, your nails digging into his back. “Oh, please. You think I did that on purpose? You were the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a smirk. “Is that so? You really think I’m the one who couldn’t keep my hands to myself?”. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer against him, making you gasp at the sensation.

“Yeah”, you managed to breathe out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You were all over me”.

He chuckled darkly, his lips grazing your ear. “Maybe because you were practically begging for it. The way you looked at me, the way you moved… You wanted me just as much”.

You hissed, “I’m just a fucking amazing actress”.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “That all of this is just an act?”.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, if that’s the case, you deserve an award for how real you make it seem”.

You shivered, torn between anger and undeniable attraction. “You’re so full of yourself, Jensen”, you shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“And you”, he countered, his voice low and rough, “are full of contradictions. You say one thing, but your body tells me another”.

You gasped as his lips found your neck again, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, a moan escaped your lips, betraying your true feelings.

“See?”, he whispered against your skin, his tone triumphant. “Your body can’t lie”.

You clenched your fists, struggling to suppress the overwhelming sensations he was eliciting. “This doesn’t mean anything”, you insisted, even as your body responded eagerly to his touch.

Jensen pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth”.

With that, he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His hand roamed over your body, fingertips grazing your skin with a touch that was both tender and demanding.

As his lips moved to your jawline, planting soft kisses that trailed down to your neck, you felt his hand slip lower, teasing the edge of your panties. Each touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried to resist.

Jensen’s breath was hot against your skin as his fingers traced a path along the waistband of your panties, his touch light and teasing. He paused, lifting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Tell me to stop”, he whispered, his voice low and rough. “If you really don’t want this, tell me to stop”.

Your breath hitched, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But your body was already making the decision for you, responding to his touch with a need that you couldn’t deny.

Jensen’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. His hand was warm and confident, exploring you with a skill that left you breathless. He found your most sensitive spot, his fingers moving with a rhythm that made your hips buck involuntarily.

“You’re so wet”, he murmured against your neck, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “Is this what you don’t want?”.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders as his touch sent waves of pleasure through you. “Jensen”, you gasped, unable to form a coherent response as his fingers continued their relentless assault.

He smiled against your skin, his movements becoming more deliberate, each stroke designed to drive you closer to the edge. “That’s what I thought”.

With that, he dipped not one but two of his thick fingers inside you, their size enough to stretch you, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of awe and satisfaction crossing his features.

“Shit, you’re tight”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. His fingers moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the sensation, but soon they began to thrust deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You bit your lip, your eyes squeezing shut as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed you. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice breathless and needy, your body arching into his touch.

Jensen smirked, his breath hot against your ear as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. “Jensen what?”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response, as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Desperate for more, you tugged impatiently on his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“Jensen, please”, you managed to gasp, your need evident in your voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your body. “That’s better”, he said, his tone both commanding and tender. “Tell me what you want, Y/N”.

Your fingers finally succeeded in undoing the buttons, and you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted muscles beneath. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his body.

“I want you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I need you”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with lust, and he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his fingers still working their magic inside you. The intensity of his touch, combined with the heat of his kiss, was almost too much to bear.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful”, he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “And you’re mine tonight”.

With that, he withdrew his fingers, eliciting a whimper of protest from you. But before you could say anything, he was pulling down his pants, his movements hurried and eager. You watched, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him, his erection hard and ready.

Jensen's gaze was intense as he ordered, "Get those panties off, now". His voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your hands moved quickly, discarding the remaining fabric that clung to your body. Once you were completely bare, Jensen climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

Without hesitation or warning, Jensen guided himself inside you, thrusting forward with one hard, deliberate motion. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your nails digging hard into his back, marking his skin with the intensity of your reaction.

Jensen groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through your chest as he buried his face in your neck for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation. Without pausing, he moved his mouth to your breast, capturing your nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, quieting his own groans as he reveled in how good you felt around him.

The combination of his thrusts and the stimulation from his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your hips meeting his rhythm eagerly.

“Jensen”, you gasped, the intensity of the sensations almost too much to bear. “Please, don’t stop”.

Jensen smirked against your skin, his confidence evident in the way he moved. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me how good it feels, Y/N”.

“Feels so good”, you gasped, your voice breathless with need.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin as he continued his relentless rhythm, each movement calculated to drive you wild. “That’s right”, he whispered, his mouth moving back to your breast, sucking and nibbling on your nipple. “I want to hear you beg for it”.

Your nails dug deeper into his back, your hips bucking against his in desperate need. “Please, Jensen”, you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I need more”.

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. “More? You want more?”, he taunted, his thrusts becoming slower, more deliberate, dragging out the pleasure.

“Yes”, you cried out, your body arching into his, craving the intensity he was withholding. “Please, Jensen, don’t tease me”.

His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him. “You look so beautiful when you’re desperate���, he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

You hissed, “Fuck you”, your voice edged with both frustration and desperation. Jensen’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Oh, I plan to”, he murmured. He rolled his hips slowly, deliberately, making sure each movement was a tantalizing tease. The slow, torturous rhythm sent you spiraling, each measured thrust driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body ached for more, every nerve ending on fire with need. You tried to push your hips up to meet his, but his hands held you firmly in place, dictating the pace with a dominance that made your pulse race.

Eventually, your nerves wearing thin, you decided you had enough of his teasing. With a burst of determination, you pushed him roughly onto the bed, his dick slipping out of you as he landed on his back. Before he could react, you straddled his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You grabbed his erection, positioning it at your entrance, and then sank down onto him with a loud gasp, the sensation of fullness making you shudder.

Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of delight and admiration flashing across his face. He let out a low, appreciative groan, his hands instinctively gripping your hips to steady you.

“Taking control, are we?”, he teased. “I think I like it when you’re on top”.

You ignored his comment, focusing instead on the feeling of him inside you. You began to move, rocking your hips back and forth, finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The power of being in control, of setting the pace, was intoxicating.

Jensen’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal. “You look so fucking sexy”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “I could watch you ride me all night”.

You quickened your pace, your movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. “Then stop talking and enjoy the ride”, you shot back, your voice breathless with the effort and pleasure.

He chuckled, his eyes dark with lust. “Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright. But are you?”. He thrust his hips upward, meeting your movements with a force that made you gasp.

You threw your head back, your hands splayed on his chest for balance. “Fuck", you moaned, the pleasure building with each thrust, the friction and heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Jensen’s hands tightened on your hips, his smirk widening as he felt your body responding to him. “You sound so desperate”, he murmured, his voice a low growl.

"Shut up”, you moaned, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and pleasure. Finally, you shifted your hips just right, the angle hitting your sweet spot perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jensen started to say something, his smirk evident even through his heavy breaths, but you quickly placed a palm over his mouth to silence him. His eyes widened in surprise, but the teasing glint in them remained. He groaned against your hand, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal.

With one hand still over his mouth, you used your other hand to steady yourself on his chest, increasing your pace as you rode him with a newfound intensity. Each movement sent shockwaves through your body, the pleasure building rapidly as you neared your climax.

Jensen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to control his own responses. He thrust his hips upward to meet your movements, the combined effort driving you both closer to the edge.

You looked down at him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the intensity of the moment written all over his face. Despite your best efforts to silence him, you could still feel his muffled groans against your palm, each sound sending a thrill through you.

“I’m so close”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

His eyes locked onto yours, the connection between you almost palpable. He removed your hand from his mouth, capturing it in his own and pressing a kiss to your palm before whispering, “Come for me, Y/N. I want to feel you”.

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of your movements, pushed you over the edge. The orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it as you cried out his name. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Jensen followed moments later, his release powerful and all-consuming. He groaned your name, his body shuddering beneath you as he found his own climax.

For a moment, you both remained there, tangled together, your bodies still shaking from the aftershocks of your passion. Slowly, Jensen pulled you down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you both caught your breath. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath your ear.

But as the euphoria began to fade, the reality of the situation set in. You rolled off him, lying on your back next to him, the cool air hitting your sweat-slicked skin. You turned your head to look at him, the lingering tension between you two palpable.

“Don’t think this changes anything”, you said, your voice still breathless but firm.

Jensen turned his head to meet your gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it”, he replied, his tone laced with mockery.

You scoffed, pushing yourself up and grabbing a nearby blanket to cover yourself.

Jensen stood up, his drunken haze clearing as he began to get dressed. You pulled on your top, trying to ignore the lingering tension between you. As he picked up his dress shirt, he found your panties on the floor. With a teasing smirk, he held them up.

“Maybe I should keep these as a reminder of how nice you can be with a dick deep down inside you”, he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

You rolled your eyes, snatching your panties from his hand. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your wife finding these?”, you retorted, your tone laced with annoyance.

Jensen chuckled, an unsettling nonchalance in his eyes. “She knows how things are”, he replied, his voice cold as he zipped up his pants and closed his belt. “We have an understanding”.

You felt a pang of something—disgust, perhaps, or maybe just a deeper disappointment. “An understanding”, you echoed, your voice flat. “Must be nice”.

He shrugged, slipping his arms into his dress shirt. “It’s practical”, he said, buttoning up. “We both know the score”.

As you stood up to clean yourself, feeling the residual heat and stickiness where Jensen had come inside you, you felt his hand grab your wrist. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you flush against his chest.

His eyes bore into yours, the intensity almost overwhelming. “You need to remember how this feels”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I want you to keep this in mind, every time you look at me”.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he silenced you with a deep, possessive kiss. His lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if trying to imprint the memory of this moment onto your very soul. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss.

You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying your resolve once again as you melted into him. The kiss was fierce and demanding, a tangible reminder of the intensity between you. His tongue explored your mouth, coaxing soft moans from you, making your head spin with the sheer force of his passion.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t forget this, Sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “No matter what happens, remember how you feel right now”.

With that, Jensen left your hotel room, the door clicking softly behind him. You stood there for a moment, heart pounding, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of anger, confusion, and an undeniable pull toward him that left you reeling.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of the intense encounter, and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself. The warm water helped to soothe your frazzled nerves, but it couldn't wash away the lingering sensation of Jensen's touch.

Just as you were drying off, your phone buzzed on the counter. You glanced at the screen and saw a message from Antony: "Hey, are you still awake? Should I come over?".

You bit your lip, a pang of guilt twisting in your gut. You had been meeting Antony outside of set for a few weeks now. Although neither of you had put a label on whatever was happening between you, it felt like you had cheated on him by sleeping with Jensen. The thought made your chest tighten with regret.

Ignoring the message for a moment, you sat down on the edge of the bathtub, taking a deep breath. You needed to figure out what you were going to do. The emotions from your encounter with Jensen were still raw, and you couldn't ignore the fact that you felt something for Antony, too.

After a few moments of contemplation, you picked up your phone and typed out a response: "Sorry, Antony. I'm really tired and just need some rest tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?".

You hit send and set the phone down, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. You knew you needed to have an honest conversation with him, but tonight wasn't the night for it. Your emotions were too tangled, and you needed time to sort them out.

As you crawled into bed, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind. Jensen's touch, his words, the undeniable connection between you—it all felt like a storm you couldn't escape. But there was also Antony, steady and kind, someone you had started to develop feelings for.

You sighed, closing your eyes and willing sleep to come.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 2

-

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2

[igotanidea]

Motivation: Benedict Bridgerton x model!reader

requested by @jaysgirlx :Benedict x slightly nude model!reader

***

Stories like that doesn’t happen very often. The chances of recreating the history written by this French poet under the name of Charles Perrault and entitled “Cinderella” was close to none, and yet – Y/N Y/L/N was the fruit of just such an unlikely union.

Her mother was a woman that the ton was more than quick to judge and call the woman fell, just because of her profession. An actress. A word that hardly escaped the mouths of higher class ladies and nobles. It was one thing to enjoy the woman of said profession skills while social event, and the other to acknowledge her presence in the society.

In simple words – the doors were closed for her to ever step out of her social class.

However, life has its own twisted ways of defying and swiftly changing the reality. The flow of the world river is unstoppable and with the right amount of patience, and with the few drops of persistence, water can change the riverbed.

Y/N’s father-to-be, young lord Y/L/N, the firstborn, attended one of the play in the London’s theater, performed due to the Queen’s upcoming birthday celebrations. Instantly getting enamored with young Y/N’s mother-to-be skills and range of emotions. Her talent and beauty, connected with the fact that she was far from the leeches he learned ladies from the ton to be, shone so bright in his eyes, that defying all the laws and rules set ages prior, he forgot his destiny, upbringing and duties to family, started courting the young woman and in time took her as his wife.

Obviously, the fact never got accepted and yet, his lordship, lord Y/L/N got the leverage in the fact he has been the only son and an heir to the title.

Therefore, Y/N, was and simultaneously was not a lady.

Which made her upbringing and consequently her entire life rather complicated.

The young girl took after her mother in the terms of talent and beauty and after her father in terms of humor and boldness.

Which, as you, dearest gentle reader, might already expect, was the reason, that her existence was to get even more complicated. 

***

One foot in one class, second in the other Y/N never felt like she belonged in either. Breaking societal rules just like her father.

Ever at the youngest age she came to a conclusion that her mere being in the world was rather unwelcomed reminder of the misalliance. No governess wanted to teach her. No young girls her age coming from good families wanted to be in her presence. Her own grandpapa and grandmamma never showed any interest in meeting her. Consequently, five year Y/N was practically being raised on the scene. Listening to her mamma’s stories about the wonders of theater, art, performing and becoming someone else to escape the reality that tended to be cruel, judgmental and unforgiving.

Especially the last part was to be remembered.

Especially when her mother felt ill and died before Y/N could reach adulthood. Followed suit by her father, lost in grief after losing the love of his life.

Leaving their daughter all alone, forced by the vicious circumstances to tend by herself.

At first, her noble and very elderly grandparents from father’s side wanted (forced) to take her under their wings, but Y/N quickly realized that they wished to raise her for a noble lady with every method possible. Corporal punishment included. Their simple reason behind the action was to not let a wild girl run around and slander their name.

She run away after less than a month putting on a different last name, an alias of sort.  

And maybe those set of conditions, fueled by the need to keep her parents’ legacy was the reason that upon reaching the age that young ladies were presented to the queen and debuted in the ton, Y/N started her shameful profession as a model in London Art Academy as well as a part-time access.

***

No matter the world’s opinion on her, she was keeping her head high, being proud of who she was, never hiding and refusing to bow down to the nobles, included the one who believed that a model was just another term for courtesan with the clear intent on acting on those convictions.

While other professional girls were timid and working out of sheer necessity to support themselves, their living, and commonly, their children, Y/N refused to hide, making quite a comfortable life for herself, given all the misevents. And as shocking as it may have been in a XVIII century London – thriving without a husband.

Enjoying every second spent in the sacred temple dedicated to art and education of  the future geniuses of the field, taking greatest pride in participating in the process. Sacrificing her heart, mind and soul to the muses.   

*** 

Y/N’s favorite days were those, when she was dressing in fantasy dresses and costumes fulfilling her mother’s words about becoming someone else, taking a mask, a life of an imaginary character, a shell that was to be filled to her own liking. And with her late father’s sense of humor she loved the ability to create characters that somehow mocked the people she knew in real life.

An older lady, busy with everyone’s interest?

A respected matron, whose life’s greatest ambition was marrying her daughters into the noble family?

A royalty with indomitable character and imposing her will without any embarrassment?

All welcomed.

And yet – there were also those specific art lessons for high-born gentlemen that were focused on anatomy. And those never required any intricate outfits at all, except maybe a tiny, thin piece of fabric, reveling more skin than it was societally savory.

***

Y/N might not have had the tiniest waist or the prettiest hair or delicate, fragile figure.

And many student were unsatisfied with said fact (those were the mentioned ones connotating model with hetaira).

And those were also the ones making her smirk under her nose. As if she didn’t know those gentlemen tended to engage in a different kind of art, that has little to zero connection with painting on canvas. Besides, in some cases, if the gentlemen’s  other skills were similar to those they showed in class …. poor wives.

However, there was one of them that seemed a little lost in the place. Not because he did not belong, since his talent was undeniable. It was rather because, unlike anyone else, he never said anything even mildly mean to her. Unlike anyone else he was treating her like a human being and not a chunk of flesh Unlike anyone else, she was a woman to him.

Well, maybe not in that sense of the word, but still a woman.

***

He was watching her with sparkles in his eyes that followed her own, no matter how much she was averting her gaze.

Beautiful.

Not like Daphne with her fair, smooth skin, rosy lips and silky hair.

No.

Y/N, as he learned her name was, was like a force of nature. Untamed. Powerful. With fire in her gaze and statuesque figure making her look like a goodness of war.

Athena.

And he was captivated by the internal strength and resilience that radiated through the whole room, reaching even the dimly lit corner of the classroom he found shelter in. Utterly unable to tear his eyes of her. Noticing the smallest details and blemishes on her skin, that only inflamed the fire of his interest.   

Oh, to have a piece of her attention.

But she was a model. And he was a lord, even if only a second son, deprived of the title. And even if she didn’t know it, her obvious pride would never allow her to approach him. A man from a higher class she learned to be incomprehensible in their love for worldly pleasure, driven by lusciousness, believing themselves to be above anyone else.

She would be more then delighted to take said men down a notch, but regardless of her pride, fire and independent nature, merely one ungrateful word would cause her to loose the job she loved so much.

Nonetheless, Benedict was neither terrene either the one to give up once his mind was made.

And he made it his personal pursuit to meet her.

***

“Lady Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow at the voice coming from above her head when she was picking up the utensils left everywhere by reckless and uncaring students, used to being served.

“Surely you are joking my lord?”

“And why would I be joking?”

“I am not a lady and you are aware of that considering the circumstances. And if your lady mother—”

“My lady mother is occupied by my brother’s wife searching quest.”

“Oh yes, your brother, the viscount Bridgerton.”

“Mh. So you know who I am, don’t you?” Benedict’s ego went a little higher in the sky.

“Oh my lord, shall you expect me to be deaf and blind to miss the news of the season?”

“I—” the ego crashed down on the ground

“I may surprise you further then, my lord. I am quite capable when it comes to reading. The skill I use for more than merely enjoying Lady whistledown’s brochures, however I do enjoy the style of writing she presents. Quite talented with the narrative.”

“So you are not only a model but also a writer, lady Y/N?”

“And in my free time I also serve as a charlady. A woman of many talents.” She pointed out to the dirty pencils and accessories in her hands

"Such a surprising thought that-"

"That a woman can in fact have some more ambition than marrying into a noble family?"

"You do sound like one of my sisters..."

“Your sister surely is a smart woman."

Benedict shook his head with a smile, gaze pinned to the floor to avoid laughing and somehow offending his companionship.

“Which one of those gentlemen influenced your opinion this heavily?” Benedict grinned

“Excuse me?”

“Just reveal his name to me and I shall demand satisfaction”

This sentence actually made her laugh a little and before they realized what was happening they were both chuckling in the middle of the empty art classroom as if they were from the same class without any social barriers in-between.

“You’re Benedict Bridgerton.”

“And you are Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Indeed, At your service” she bowed in a very funny and very untrained way. “you must have put yourself through a great deal of trouble to learn my deepest secret.”

“And how entertaining it was to do so.”

“Was it?” she titled her head narrowing eyes a little studying his face. “that makes me wonder the purpose of said action.”

“Will you let a man keep a bit of his own secrets?”

“I must refuse to do so.”

“And this is precisely what I have been expecting to hear from you.”

“Are you challenging me now, my lord?”

“Not for a duel if that’s what-“

“It’s not.” She cut him out with a smile “now, If you forgive me, Bridgerton, I have my duties to tend to.” She bowed and with hands full of remnants of the art class started walking away.

“I shall hope to see you in the next class?” he called after her

“I  believe you said your family is occupied with your brother’s marriage …..? Shall you not be invested in those?”

“I—” dear lord, how was it possible that this woman was taking words out of his mouth this effectively? And he believed himself to be the witty one of the siblings. 

“Life is full of mysteries my lord and trying to predict what may happen In a week seems like an exercise in futility.”

She send him the last smile and disappeared for good, leaving Benedict with the lingering sense of dissatisfaction.

And suddenly making him forget about the fact that he has been considering renouncing the academy membership Anthony have so generously provided him with.

Having gained additional motivation, he was more determined to persevere.

[ihrtsevyn]

- LE SSERAFIM HEADCANONS 🎬 | 002.

GENRE fluff, headcanon

SYNOPSIS the habits le sserafim members form after you become a couple

WARNINGS jealousy (?), hints of insecurity, no smut, certain suggestive events in yunjin and chaewon's, lowercase intended.

REQUESTED: link here !!

WC 1.0k

. . . SAKURA (사쿠라)

i. has all of your upcoming events saved in her calendar. as an idol, she has her own responsibilities and tasks to worry about, but she still finds a way to squeeze you into her daily life. even when she's out on tour she'll text you about your upcoming dentist appointment, gently reprimanding you on setting your alarms so you wake up on time. sometimes it can come off as if she's micromanaging you but it's just her way of showing you that she pays attention. ii. kisses you for reassurance. everyone has their rough days and insecurities and while it's normal to cry out in frustration and simply just want to sleep away all of your worries, kkura is more than happy to coddle and kiss away all of those unsure and deprecating thoughts. if your eyebrows furrow and lips fall into a pout, she won't hesitate to pinch your cheeks and lay repeated soft pecks on your lips. sometimes to make herself feel better she'll go to you for the kisses.

. . . CHAEWON (김채원)

i. teases you but won't let anyone do the same. teasing each other has become you and chaewon's main love language in the relationship. you have secret code nicknames for each other, inside jokes, and funny little phrases you say to each other that only the two of you would understand. she relishes in the fact that you two have such a strong bond and basically your own little language that you communicate in. so, it always bugs her to the highest degree when someone calls you a teasing nickname that she made up specifically for you that should only be used by her. she'll scowl and side-eye the person for overstepping boundaries but it'll quickly be replaced with a triumphant smile when you say "hey, only my girlfriend can call me that." ii. spontaneous bear hugs. first she did it to comfort you, but now it became a game of sneaking up on each other and surprising them with a gigantic bear hug. neither of you take it seriously as a game meant to be won, it's just a nice surprise and burst of affection. she initiated them the most but is always delightfully surprised when you flip it back on her.

. . . YUNJIN (허윤진)

i. reminds you every few hours to eat. with her busy schedule as an idol she barely has time to fit meals in herself, yet she still reminds you on a daily basis to take care of yourself. times when you're near each other and have no plans for the day, she'll just plop down next to you with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "i could hear your stomach growling in my dreams." she'd tease with a knowing smile. you'd start to think she's telling the truth considering she always knows what meal or snack you're craving without you even having to tell her. even though she's big on reminding you to take care of yourself, you have no problem returning the favor. always scolding her back if she forgets to eat but reminds you to. ii. becomes a lot more affectionate. before dating, her touches were always fleeting, they left just as quick as they came and always kept you wanting more. but ever since you've given her the green light on affection, she'll become your personal shadow. always following closely behind no matter where you go, whether it's to the kitchen, bathroom, or living room, she'll follow you to the next country if you let her. she can't help herself, always holding, rubbing, caressing, and kissing the parts of you she adores the most while struggling to hold herself back when in public. you're always on the receiving end of a pout when you unwrap her arms from around your waist cause of possible nearby cameras, but it never lasts long when you join your pinkies together in a more subtle display of affection.

. . . KAZUHA (카즈하)

i. takes photos of the beautiful sceneries she sees while traveling. as an idol, if she's not on a variety show or practicing she's probably on a stage somewhere and it's more than likely out of the country. while traveling to these different sites she always snaps the prettiest photos for you to see, hoping that you realize that although she may be away from you momentarily you are always on her mind and her true home and eye of beauty, is you. ii. random cafe dates! if you're lucky enough to travel with her she'll drag you to the nearest cafe to taste test all of the beautifully decorated pastries and drink all of the hot and cold drinks til' your bellies can no longer contain all of the sugary sweetness. these becoming her favorite moments as she gazes at you adoringly in a small enclosed cafe, the lighting low and warm as you throw your head back and laugh at a joke kazuha mutters to you, completely unaware of the foam mustache you've adorned.

. . . EUNCHAE (은채)

i. has to relate every item/character she comes across to you. eunchae doesn't know what it is, pure infatuation or if you've put a spell on her that makes her obsessed with you, because now all she can see and think about is you in almost every little thing. anytime she's watching a cartoon and a character does something a little silly or resembles you in the tiniest way she's always quick to point it out. terribly hidden giggles erupt from her when you frown at the newfound character she says resembles you because of it's lack of cute factor. the more you dislike a character she thinks resembles you the more she becomes obsessed with the idea of it being you, even turning around to buy matching keychains or phone cases of said character just to tease you. you fake like it bothers you but it endears you, especially when you get a random text a 2am from her saying "you❤️" with a picture attached of said character sleeping cutely. ii. randomly gives you gifts. going back to her last habit, she'll randomly pop up with new matching phone cases, or plushies, that she just 'had to buy' because they were on sale. she loves the idea of going shopping with you and coming across cute accessories that match in both of your fave colors. anything to subtly remind everyone else that you're hers to keep.

main masterlist | main page <3

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long, i'm sooo sorry ;( i had a bit of a writers block and went on a little hiatus but i'm back now :>

[koishiro]

Hi! For your JJK fluff event, could I request dialogue prompt number 5 & number 15 for Megumi Fushiguro?

♡ - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : (dp 5) “apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” + (dp 15) “I’ve loved you for years”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂/𝐖 : f!reader, third person at times, short lil thing

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : sorry this took so long but this is probably my favourite concept lol like everything you listed!!

prompt list | event masterlist | upcoming anon asks | masterlist

-

Looking at one of jujutsu tech’s most powerful sorcerers, we often forget that he’s just a boy. Specifically, a young 15 year old who’s seen more in his life than any one of us will see in our lifetime.

Yet here he stands in the hallways of his school surrounded by the hushed whispers of his classmates bouncing from the corridors walls. It’s a regular occurrence, always revolving around some poor soul and often not having a clue either.

So it doesn’t exactly faze Megumi to hear the quick spread of whispers and passing of phone screens as their eyes dodge around the school’s hallways nor does he even notice.

But he couldn’t care less, not when the sight of you barrelling your way through the sea of faces knocking past idle students with your bag almost twice the size of your own body consumed his thoughts. The way you looked so pretty in the obligatory navy uniform, your hair pulled back by the usual Sanrio clips you insisted on always wearing and that pretty white smile you threw his way that always made his heart pick up.

His stern frown and eagle eyes weaken the tiniest bit, even his crossed arms loosen as he takes in the sight of his best friend, nearly cracking a small smile at your futile attempt of slowing to a stop - nearly knocking other students down with you.

“Megs!” Just his name slipping from your mouth caused his heart to pick up pace.

As soon as you made it within a few feet of him you practically dived into arms, Megumi already prepared with his arms held out after years of this almost daily “tradition”.

“I missed you!” Megumi could’ve sworn his face was red by the sheer burning sensation running through his cheeks when you tilted your head to look up at him, “I saw you not even two days ago?”

You almost shy away from the stare of Megumi. So much so nobody would think you’ve been friends for almost six years now. You send him the tiniest toothy smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a flick of your head not wanting to release your hold on him.

Megumi’s left cheek quirks up in a smile, nearly going unnoticed if it weren’t for the entanglement of limbs you both had wrapped around the other.

It seems cliche to explain it as them both being in their own world but they both interacted like they were. A bubble circled around them, an impenetrable one that only onlookers can look into.

Which is exactly where Nobara and Yuji found themselves, staring from the sidelines clearly unnoticed by the two, too immersed in the conversation - or teasing was more appropriate.

Y/n rests her chin on Megumi’s chest, looking up at him as he continues his teasing. She lifts a hand to brush the insistent stray hair from her cheek before he quickly snatches up to hold whilst he fiddles with the fabric of her uniform with the other.

He leans to mumble something to her, easily making y/n laugh light and bubbly, eyes crinkled at the corners. Then she turns, body pressed closer to his, lips to his ear to whisper something back. Megumi’s laugh comes out as a small rumble, his eyes a brighter viridescent.

“Do you think…?” Yuji’s voice cuts through the scene playing out in front of them, causing Nobara to flick her eyes back and forth from the pair to her friend.

The idea isn’t exactly far-fetched, it kind of made sense actually. The way Megumi was always stiff and cold until you bounce into the room and his posture would completely relax, or the way he holds his drink as far away from anyone as possible to avoid sharing the same straw and “cross contamination” as he put it but if you asked? He wouldn’t even blink twice.

Just simply the way you held each other in the halls was enough to start the clogs turning in everyone’s heads.

It’s not impossible right?

“How much you putting down?”

The quiet rushed whispers of the first and second years were being passed back and forth. The five students all huddled around the pink haired boy’s desk in back corner of the dimly lit classroom.

The energetic panda replied without hesitation, almost as if he had been waiting for that very question all day. “1,800 yen and a pack of kataage!" Everyone in the room stared at the towering figure of a six-foot seven panda bear with a near copy of a deadpan face.

“What are you guys doing?”

The black haired boy stood with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he faced the other students with a confused expression adorning his face.

He was tall, with a shock of inky black hair falling haphazardly across his forehead, and pale skin that seemed luminescent against the darkness of his locks. His expression betrayed confusion but also determination as he stood before a sea of students; his hands stuffed deep into pockets creating an atmosphere suggesting social unease. Even so, there was comfort in the familiar pensive pose which only served to add further dimensions to the picture this young man presented - strength inside uncertainty.

The cracking of everyone’s necks could almost be heard in the silence of the room as they whip their heads towards the intrusive voice.

“Ah - Megumi, what are you doing here?” Yuji held a tight lipped smile, eyes wide in faux ease, trying to take attention away from the small pile of trinkets and yen splayed out on his desk only hidden by the backs of Maki and Toge.

“It’s a classroom? One we’ll be using in five minutes? You didn’t hear the bell?”

Megumi’s voice was laced with confusion with a hint of his usual sarcasm as he slugged his way towards his chair, the strap of his bag slowly slipping down his shoulder by the time he reached the old desk.

Reaching into his bag to retrieve his headphones to listen the voice message you sent not even two minutes ago he stopped midway slouched over his bag and slowly turned his head towards the multiple pair of eyes burning holes to the side of his head before they hurriedly averted their eyes elsewhere, finding the walls conveniently interesting.

It became a routine at this point. A low buzz began to float through the halls, a sea of whispers bubbled and eddied around him, their hushed voices buzzing in his ears like bees. At first it didn't bother Megumi much; he was used to the odd antics of his classmates but as time went on, the murmuring only got louder and more frequent until they followed him everywhere he went: an ever-present reminder of whatever strange thing people were saying about him behind his back.

The whispers seemed to follow him, during lunch as he sat opposite you while you rambled on about your day while the constant buzzing and passing of whispers caused his eyes to train around the cafeteria, or even as he leaned against your locker waiting for your class to finish only to feel the burning stares of passer-bys.

“What’s wrong?” Drawing his head back towards your voice Megumi noticed the worried look you held, “Hm? ‘m fine”

You however didn’t seem too convinced at your friend’s answer, “You sure? You seem a little spaced out?”

“Yeah jus’, have you noticed the weird stares we’re getting?” Megumi’s eyes flitted over the halls as he said this, suddenly conscious of the other bodies in the long corridor.

Megumi watched as you scrunched your eyebrows in thought and darted your own eyes across the stretch of land before they landed back on him.

“Aren’t they always like that?” You had a point, there was always something happening in Jujutsu High whether it be a bad breakup or a rumour of someone having a crush on another.

But Megumi unsurprisingly liked to fly under the radar, not caring for silly rumours and gossip or whatever they heard down the grapevine.

If he was honest Megumi never really noticed it before, always too absorbed in your own antics. Too focused on you.

Even now as he slugged his way towards the joint kitchen, thinking about the way you looked so cute earlier that day under the mountain of layered scarfs and jackets you had on, along with the small swipe of red across your nose brought on by the chilling temperatures outside.

Barely even passing over the threshold, he heard the familiar high pitched laugh of his best friend.

“There’s absolutely no way! I have this in the bag!” Peaking his head round the corner, he caught sight of the mop of pink hair shaking his head adamantly.

“You sure about that? Have you seen the way those two look at each other?” Nobara practically launched herself across the coffee table, slamming down the amount of yen she found suitable while the others watched on in silence.

“A week max!” He heard the overenthuastic ginger continue, he could already imagine her leaning back, arms crossed and a smug smile planted on her face.

Megumi felt a twitch at the back of his mind as he reached outwards with invisible force from within the shadows of safety and dipped his feet into this unfamiliar environment. He poked his head round the corner of the open arched doorway, quickly identifying the two figures surrounded by the second years.

Yuji shifted in his spot, seemingly unsure of Nobara’s confident words. “How do you know? It could take up to a month for all we know”

“You heard Nobara right? Just standing in the same room as those two is enough to make you feel like a third wheel” quickly followed Maki’s voice before placing her bet at the centre of the table where everyone collectively placed their own.

They were betting? On him? On you?

“How do you know they’re not already dating huh? I mean, we never actually asked right? And they seem pretty close” Panda’s words caused a beat of silence to travel around the group, quick glances and shared thoughts passed round like a game of Chinese whispers.

“Okay new bet, place your money down now if you think Megumi and Y/n are already smackin’!”

Megumi’s eyes practically popped out at this, quickly diving back into the cover of shadows where he attempted to calm down his racing heart by clutching onto his shirt with great strength.

They thought you were dating? Were you really that close to give the impression of being together?

The never ending thoughts seemed to plague Megumi’s mind for the next week, his body unconsciously aware of every passing move you made and his ears automatically tuned in to every breath you let escape.

Now acutely aware of the inescapable eyes from idle onlookers, Megumi seemed hyper-fixated on every detail and move you made. The way your eyes would double in size at the mere mention of your favourite show or the happy dance you never failed to do as soon as the tangy taste of orange slices he specifically cut for you hit your tongue or even the way that said orange burst in your mouth and dripped down the plush skin of your lips as if waiting for an unsuspecting ki-

“-gumi!” The sweet sound emanating from the girl he sat opposite to came as a shock to his system, not realising his mind slipped away as his attention focused in on the concerned expression you held.

“You’re doing it again” he almost wanted to laugh at the small pout you gave him, clearly not happy at having to stop midway from explaining your new weekly fixation to him.

“Sorry, ‘m just a lil’ distracted is all” he grumbled out in his usual less energetic voice. But this didn’t deter you, it would a lot more than that to brush you off, he should know after-all.

Titling your head to the side, a confused expression adorning your face, you didn’t even seem to think twice before asking, “distracted? Why, what’s wrong?”

Your questioning made the poor boy stumble, not quite sure what or how to answer without coming off like a fool, so he tried the subtle approach.

“You haven’t noticed the stares?” He barely mumbled out as he let his eyes wander the large open space of the cafeteria.

“I’ve never seen you so concerned before” gravitating his eyes back to you once more, he witnessed an emotion he never thought he’d see adorn your usual jovial face - hurt. “This is the second time you’re bringing this up, why does it matter if they’re staring, so what? What difference does it make?”

The usually unbothered Megumi wasn’t so unbothered after seeing your heart snap from behind the glass shield of your eyes.

Quickly leaning across the table to grab ahold of the end of your sleeve, he fidgeted with the soft material as he thought over his words, “I didn’t mean it like that - ‘m sorry. I just meant - if you heard about what people are saying is all”

This didn’t seem to comfort you much though, even with the unwavering grip of his fiddling with the ends of your cuffs. “What d’you mean? I haven’t heard anything?”

Usually it was you who came running to him with news on the latest ‘gossip’ yet it completely flew over your head this time, missing it by a long shot.

“Do you like me?”

Blinking once, then twice, you took a minute to register to what your best friend had just told you.

It took a minute of buffering to finally register what you were just told, “sorry?”

“apparently everyone has a bet going that we’ll get together” Megumi was now fiddling with his fingers, finding the fabric of his uniform conveniently interesting.

You now found yourself nervously fiddling with your fingers, eyes bouncing back and forth from your best friend to the walls of the cafeteria, “Well…I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right?”

Now this, this caught Megumi off guard. Of course he thought about the idea, the possibility before but never did he think the opportunity would actually introduce itself.

The silence that followed caused your nervous smile to sink, forcing Megumi to splutter out anything that came to mind.

“N - no, that’s not what I meant! - I’d go out with you anytime!” Once again, silence followed suit - except this time both your eyes were blown wide, not too sure where to go from here.

Until a sudden muffled giggle broke the silence, bubbling from none other than you, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh, but now Yuji owes me ¥2,000”

Bewildered, Megumi couldn’t fathom any words but his scrunched up eyebrows must’ve said enough going by your quick explanation.

“I couldn’t help but take part in the bet, it was too hard to resist, I had a feeling you liked me and thought this would be a good opportunity to do something about it” you chuckled out before leaning forward on your elbows, “I like you too by the way, and I’d go out with you anytime as well”

As soon as his confused expression came, it went - replaced by a small tug at the corner of his lips and followed by a fast approaching blush.

Letting a scoff escape, it was your turn to hold a confused look. Returning his attention back to you Megumi went on explain - a small smile slowly taking over, “it’s just crazy to think, I’ve loved you for god-knows how long - years maybe. And now you’re sitting in front of me and saying you like me . Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

At first, Megumi wanted to strangle Yuji with his own two hands, although now - thinking about it, he should really thank his friend for the outcome.

Not too far away, amongst the line of hungry peers queuing for their food was the less than enthusiastic teacher trailed by the ever so nosy white haired Sorcerer peaking over the younger’s shoulder at his students.

“I knew it! Didn’t I tell you Nanamin~ love is in the air!” Gojo’s eyes practically gleamed with hearts. His hands clasped together as the blond didn’t even spare a glance at the overly joyous Sorcerer.

“Are you aware of your age?”

——

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : I just wanna say thank you to Biski for helping me through my major writers block!!! <3

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[opreaadriann]

High School Revenge

High School Revenge is an interactive fiction game set in the scariest imaginable location: high school. In this game, you will get to play as a teenager that was betrayed by his best friends and classmates 7 years ago, and get to come back to their high school, with a completely different look, preparing your revenge on them, Count of Monte-Cristo style. You will get to live a full academic year alongside your 8 targets, as you befriend, betray, and even romance them to get what you want. Will you forgive them after learning of their reasons or will you go through with your sweet, sweet revenge? The current version of the demo is 102k words.

Demo

The game is still a work-in-progress, so any suggestions are appreciated! If you find any bugs or issues, make sure to mention them.

Other places where you can follow the project or support me:

X/Twitter COG Forum Patreon (+many words demo, I lost count)

Features:

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Romance your 6 childhood bullies, your 2 childhood friends, or hidden allies.

Live the tragic childhood events that lead to the worst day of your life and decide how everything went down.

Almost all targets will have deep secrets that you’ll have to discover throughout the story and use against them.

Pretend to be a charismatic popular kid, a likeable klutz, a rebel that goes against the norm, or the edgy, silent type.

Lie, charm, spy, blackmail, everything is on the table to get your revenge. There is no “good” way to learn the targets’ secrets and there’s no perfect way to get the job done.

Your stats will almost never affect your capability to get revenge. All that will make a real difference will be your relationship with all the characters.

Spend a full academic year getting to know your targets, interacting with them through random events, relationship events, or hobby events, similar to a Persona game.

Romance Options:

Targets

Dylan Evans

The first friend the MC ever made, Dylan was once just a nerdy Asian kid with big square glasses, playing video games with you every single day. However, as time passed, he turned into a social media influencer, garnering over tens of thousands of likes on every post.

With an incredibly fake smile, Dylan manages to turn most people into his followers, as his strategy to suck up to the rest of the students seems to work quite well.

Though he seems to be quite irredeemable, you do remember him being a selfless kid with a big heart. There are so many memories with him helping you out whenever he could, being the only person you could confide in. What could have made him turn against you when you needed him most?

Olivia Hartley

If your MC had to choose the most unlikely person to ever do them wrong, then Olivia would be their first choice. Strong willed and incredibly sarcastic, this raven-haired tall girl has remained exactly the same 7 years later.

And yet, she did betray you on the day of the Tragedy, giving secret information to your bullies and allowing you to fall victim to their prank… What could have been her reason?

Olivia is an incredibly intuitive person, with a quick mind and a powerful personality to boot. Someone like her will likely be a huge challenge in the upcoming revenge, but not even her can stop this mastermind.

Michael Knox

This tall, dark, and handsome captain of the Baseball team can be, depending on your choices, the person that tricked you into falling in love with him, only to publicly humiliate you in front of the whole school.

He is an incredibly talented athlete with a very arrogant attitude, assuming that the world belongs to him. With a very rich dad to support him, nothing has ever gone wrong in his life, if we were to ignore his mother’s death during his birth.

Can he be considered one of the main antagonists of this story or is he just a secret follower that only followed orders during the Tragedy?

Cecily Knight

Ah yes, Cecily Knight. Everyone, everywhere knows who Cecily Knight is. This petite blue-eyed blonde is the captain of the swimming team, and regularly publicly humiliates anyone that attempts to get to know her romantically.

With such a strong reputation, Cecily manages to order around anyone in the school with ease, as they all lower their heads when she passes them on the hallways.

However, observing her more closely can reveal that she is much more docile with her friends and loved ones. Is she actually an ice queen or is it all a facade to protect herself?

Connor Cobb

With his long blond hair and piercing smile, Connor tends to attract every girl that passes his way. However, he manages to make them all leave once he opens his mouth, as his desperation can be seen from miles away.

As the star guitarist of The Fighting Rooster, Connor is an incredibly talented individual that planned the whole part of the Tragedy where they befriended you first before destroying your life.

Though he seems like a total idiot, looking into his life seems to reveal that there is more to him than just this fake persona he shows everyone. With 3 younger siblings, Connor seems to have a lot on his shoulders as many in his family look up to him.

Isaac Freeman

With his curly red locks and emerald eyes, Isaac manages to trick many people into thinking he is someone they would like to get to know. As the mastermind behind the Tragedy, he is the worst out of all the people on this list.

It is quite common for him, even 7 years later, to bully students so badly that they decide to move schools. By observing his behavior, it seems that all he cares about is being thoroughly entertained.

Either make him laugh, do something outrageous, or get out of his way, as he will do his best to make every day more interesting than the last.

Vivian Porter

Vivian turned from Isaac’s best friend in her childhood to Dylan’s current confidant. With a seemingly perfect appearance and an endless wardrobe, Vivian manages to impress anyone that sees her pass by.

She is incredibly empathic, being able to tell what anyone is feeling at a glance, allowing her to use this skill to make anyone fall for her ambitious tricks.

Is she just someone that just made a mistake during childhood or are her intentions impure at this age as well?

Haley Freeman

As Isaac’s twin sister, nobody would expect her to be the biggest goody two shoes the world has ever seen. Seemingly stuttering her way through most conversations, people usually tend to forget she even exists.

This curvy redhead has a deep passion for painting, as she spends most of her time in the school gardens, capturing the view.

Is there more to Isaac’s sister than meets the eye or is she just another victim of Isaac’s abuse?

Allies

Angela Slone

A swimmer with long, brown hair, Angela is part of the team alongside Cecily. After being bullied into submission by the harpy, she reluctantly decides to help the MC carry out their revenge against their many targets.

With a bubbly personality and a merciful soul, Angela is possibly the worst ally for this revenge you could find. However, this doesn’t mean she can’t be tricked into giving you what you want.

Marcus Parmer

Marcus has led a horrible life during high school. Being diagnosed with a medical condition forcing him to go bald, he has been constantly bullied by Isaac ever since he joined the Baseball team.

He is much more serious than any of the allies you can find in the school, but he isn’t the most capable person for the job. He is, however, excited to help you get rid of the scum pretending to be students in his school.

[tainted-liquor]

✮ 4th Baby Mama‧₊˚ ⋅ 「15.10.23」 ft. Earth42 Miles G. Morales

ingredients; Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles!

Listen, ik you said make it just one, but a part 2 is going to be made lol

It was a warm day out in Brooklyn, New York. The air gently caressed and kissed your skin, leaving your blue plaid skirt flowing as you trekked through the messy streets of Brooklyn. You paid no attention to the gunshots, explosions, or any of the...cherry-wine tinted 'spills' coming from a random trash bag in the alley. You mumbled along to the music you had blasting through your blue metallic beats, putting a slight pep in your step as Summer Walker spoke to your soul.

"I wanna start wit' yo mama, she shoulda whooped yo ass..." you grunted, giggling to yourself before swinging open the massive oak doors to Brooklyn Visions Academy. You felt rather giddy about the day ahead, knowing that you would be getting robotic babies as part of your home economics class. The problem was that you didn't know who you would be partnered with. It was all shits and giggles, and you were pretty sure the task would be as easy as ever. No matter who you were partnered with! Right?

No.

You made your way to the locker, checking your lashes and light makeup in the small mirror you had placed in the top right corner before placing all your unnecessary materials inside the navy blue metal. You did a quick fluff of your slick low bun and threw on your clear-framed glasses. You opened up your spearmint mentos gum, popping two small pieces in your mouth before closing your locker and proceeding through the bustling halls to find your friends. You lowered your headphones down to your neck, pausing the music and locating your girls all crowded together in what sounded like frantic whispers and sharp giggles. Catching up to the rest of the group, you merged into their tight circle to see what was going on as they all looked down at each other's phones.

"Yooo, what's happening? What y'all lookin' at?" You inquired whilst pulling out your phone and opening your school email. You turned your head to face your friend, Tierra, watching as the cyber-blue hue illuminated her facial features as she stared down at her screen with a hand over her mouth. Layla spoke up, nudging you gently so you could see what she was talking about, "They picked the partners for the...the fuckin' baby project at random!" She giggled, tears pricking her waterline as she flipped her screen to show you what was on her phone. You scanned through the list, eyes widening when you came across your name right next to Miles'.

"WHAT!" You shouted, breaking out into laughter with the rest of the group. "They paired me with my fuckin' ex, at least you got that quiet kid!" Tierra grunted, whacking you on the shoulder with a rolled-up homework assignment. You nearly fell on the floor, gripping Katie's shoulder while she held up upright. The idea of raising a baby, real or not, with a stranger sounded hilarious. You weren't mad, but he wasn't exactly the partner you wanted. You originally hoped for one of your girlfriends, or maybe even a cute guy from the basketball team that you could yap about later. But alas, the forms were out and the choices were final, so there was nothing more that you could do.

You were familiar with Miles; saying hi to him now and again in the hallways and always getting the same upward nod in the process. He was known to be an adept artist who wasn't big on having a large circle of friends, but that didn't mean he was weird. You held your stomach as you wiped your tears, easing into the steady flow of conversation your friends began to hold before it was time for you to head to your advisory. You waved bye to your friends before heading to Mrs. Thomas’ classroom for said advisory, where she covered the school's upcoming events and big tests we needed to be ready for. You fiddled and played with a loose curl in your bun, pulling it down and watching as it sprang back up at an instantaneous rate. 

The room was dull and filled with nothing but sleep until the bell rang, signaling for everyone to file out to their next class. You hastily grabbed your things, panicking slightly at the fact that in the next 30 minutes, you would be classified as a ‘mother’. The classroom was warm and comfortable, allowing your nerves to relax slightly as you sat in your usual seat. It didn’t take long for more voices to pour in, loud gossip and strained laughter filling the room as everyone took their respective seats. ”Girl this class finna be the death of me…how we havin’ kids at 8:35 in the morning!” Your friend Jayda mumbled, finally sitting down next to you as your teacher prepared to start today’s lesson.

“Nah that’s what I’m saying…Like, tell me how I got-” you began, cutting yourself off as soon as Ms. Kaylee cleared her throat and stood up from her desk with a warm smile. She spoke, her voice cutting clearly through the silence that hung over the room like a mistletoe over a pair with chemistry as thick as butter, “Alright, everyone! I’m sure you saw the email about your partners for your week-long project, but in case you didn’t have time or missed a couple of lessons I’ll go over everything for a couple minutes before we get started with our gender reveal!” You tensed in your seat, looking over at Jayda with wide eyes and an upside-down smile. The classroom door came swinging open, revealing a Miles who had a tiny matte-black bandage right next to his lip. His uniform jacket was missing, his tie askew, and his sleeves were rolled up to his upper bicep, displaying a ton of tiny scratches and a small bruise above the curve of his elbow. 

The teacher glared at him for what felt like a minute, calmly pulling him to the side to discuss his entrance while you glared at him, too. But you weren’t staring because he was a disruption to the classroom. He looked delicious like this…when he was finally out of his usual blue school hoodie and grey slacks. You watched as he nodded at the teacher, towering over her 5’4 stature before you felt a light tap on your arm. 

“Ayo, stop drooling girl we see you” Jayda laughed, giving her a firm eye-roll as you watched Miles stroll back to his desk and sit down. Ms. Kaylee let go of a deep sigh, shaking her head before continuing with her speech. She gave a brief explanation of what it was that we’d be doing, what the final goal was, and how we would be graded on our project. She clapped her hands together, setting out a bunch of baby holders and car seats before rolling out a massive case labeled ‘RealCare’. “Alright! When I call you and your partner's name, please come up and grab one bath bomb and a pail of water”

The people around you made quick work of finding their partners and grabbing the necessary supplies between chortles and hushed conversation. Your chest felt heavy as you talked Jayda’s ear off, nearing the order of people that you last saw on the Google form she had emailed you earlier. You perked up as soon as you heard your name, turning around to see Ms. Kaylee check off two spaces on her clipboard before beckoning the both of you to come up and grab your things. You sighed, getting up from your desk and grabbing a plain white bath bomb and a small beach pale filled with lukewarm water while Miles grunted and grabbed a car seat, muscles tensing and flexing under the weight of the surprisingly heavy chunk of plastic. He turned over to look at you, nodding his head back to his desk as a signal for you to follow him while you waited for the teacher to finish reading out the pairs. 

“Wassup, Miles” you beamed, pulling up a chair in front of his desk so you could sit face-to-face with him while you placed the sunny yellow pale on the desk, holding the bath bomb as delicately as possible in your cupped hands. He nodded upward, setting the car seat on the floor next to him and cracking his knuckles. His skin was perfectly smooth, his braids laid neatly at the tip of his collarbones and he had a skinny but lean build on him. It wasn’t long after you took note of him avoiding your gaze that the teacher spoke up, instructing you to all drop your bath bombs in the pail of water and then rinse your hands at the sink. You squealed in anticipation, making sure that Miles was watching as you dropped the chalky white bath bomb into the sparkling clear water.

The bucket exploded with color, white foam suddenly turning into shades of bright pink and pastel fuchsia. You beamed from ear to ear, pure joy and excitement illuminating your face as you joined the rest of the class in their shouts of joy, exclaiming their ‘babies’ gender at the top of their lungs. Miles smiled slightly, nodding with a content expression before he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Shortly after everyone's joyful exclamation, the teacher wasted no time in collecting everyone's attention and going over the plan for the next week. “You will need to devise a custody plan with your partner, so this means exchange numbers or whatever you need to do now. You may now all come up and select your baby” Ms. Kaylee explained and gestured to the now-open box.

You went up with Miles, quickly scooping up a pretty baby doll with deep brown skin and curly brown hair. You analyzed her little face, taking in her deep black eyes and light pink headband that came with her matching pink onesie while Miles got your baby bag full of supplies and wristbands. Miles cleared his throat, holding up his phone before mumbling “Just send me what days you want me to get her and I’ll make it work.”

You nodded, putting your number in his contacts and vice versa. “Actually,” he stated, gently taking the baby from your arms and hoisting up the bright pink baby bag. “I got her until lunch today. I’ll come find you and we’ll work sum’ out,” he shrugged as you handed him back his phone.

“Oh aight, bet. What we naming her?” You asked, attempting to reach for the car seat, but being instantly denied by Miles. “Uhh…” he mumbled, visibly blanking at the idea of having to name his baby. “Uhh…Anylah?” He smirked, attempting to cover up the fact he just thought of a name on the spot. You looked him up and down, playing over how the name sounded in your mind before nodding slowly. Miles let go of a deep breath, posture relaxing only a fraction before he reached into the bag to put on both of your orange wristbands.

“Aight, I’ll catch you at lunch,” Miles stated, making his way out of the classroom with a heavy load of baby items and a fake baby. You made your way to your remaining 4 classes, internally groaning at how fast the time was passing by.

“She ain’t even tell us these fuckin babies cry…I didn’t know that shit made noise! It started going off in the library!” Your friend Jayda moaned, attempting to shush her fussy baby she named Mariah. “The fuck you mean you didn’t know they cried…it was literally in the paper she gave us about the babies?” You asked, looking at her like she had a second head. She shrugged, eyeing you with slightly widened eyes and a smirk to silently convey that she didn’t read the forms. “JAYDA!” You giggled, half-shoving her as you opened up the doors to the cafeteria. The line was nothing short of demonic, so you decided to hop a couple of places forward with your friends who had already made it to the cafeteria.

The food was mediocre, but at least it was edible. You sat with your girls for a good 5 minutes, enjoying your food and conversing with each other before you spotted Miles making his way over. He held the baby like a football, making space for himself at your table with a low “excuse me” in between you and Tierra. “Aight so my schedule is weird cuz I have work some days, but I’ll make it work what days should I get this thing?” He asked, his voice low and stoic as he began typing away in the notes app on his phone. You gave him a playful glare, attempting to push down the smirk that was forming on your face. “Don’t call her a thing, this is your daughter,” you joked with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But you can take…Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday!” You exclaimed, taking the baby from Miles and checking your calendar. Great, Wednesday!

“My daughter huh? Aight, I gotchu,” he sniggered before tucking his phone in his back pocket. He tapped on the table, shooting you a wink you swear you hallucinated before retreating to his group of homies without another word. Your head dropped down to your fake baby, fighting back a smirk as you submerged yourself back in your conversation.

Whatever you thought this project was going to be, you certainly didn’t anticipate anything from the road ahead.

It was 1 AM, and your arms felt sore from the constant rocking of this baby that weighed nothing less than 7 pounds. You changed what felt like 4 diapers, fed her for almost 20 minutes, and spent your night pacing through your kitchen to calm her down. You whined along with the baby, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be finished soon. You grabbed your phone from your shorts pocket, quickly dialing up Miles as a last attempt. You felt like you were intruding on his private life, but something in this goddamn world has to give.

The phone rang twice, sighing to yourself when you heard the familiar ringtone come to an abrupt stop. There was rustling, what sounded like a low breathy grunt, before Miles picked up the phone. “Yo…what’s good, whatchu need?” he mumbled, his voice sounding sickeningly velvety as he attempted to shake the sleep from his vocal cords. “Uh, hey. Anylah won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…Can you come help, please?” You winced, balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. He made a low noise that sounded like a cross of a low hum of approval, and a groan of missed sleep before he got up, stretched, threw on a quick hoodie, and knotted his sweats. “I’ll be over in like…a couple minutes” he grumbled, hanging up almost as soon as you could say “thanks.”

He knocked at your front door not even five minutes later, leaving you to drown in his shadow as he stood over you with a tired, blank, and semi-serious expression. The frosty air from the outdoors nipped at any inch of skin it could find purchase, leaving you to beckon him inside the door as quickly as possible. You handed him the crying infant, watching as his eyes widened by a fraction before returning to their initial low post. “Damn, not even a hello?” He chuckled as he took a wailing Anylah in his arms, rocking the baby at an oddly specific angle. “I know you didn’t just pull up to my crib talkin’ like someone's absent baby father…” you joked, rolling your eyes and taking your respective place back on the couch. 

“Hello, Morales.” You commented, leaning your head on his shoulder sleepily as he sat next to you on the couch. He nodded, somehow managing to hush the baby within the first 45 seconds of holding her. You huffed, feeling slightly irritated at how he managed to finish what you were attempting to do for over an hour in only a minute. “You were rocking her…too fast,” he slurred, clearly tired as he attempted to hold his eyes open. You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep, attempting to reach for the baby before ultimately clocking out for the night.

You woke up feeling groggy, sluggish, and plagued by a small migraine. Both Anylah and Miles were nowhere to be found, feeling around for your phone only to grab a purple sticky note stuck to the back of your phone case.

‘Went back home.’

You sighed, shooting Miles a text immediately that let him know to not disappear like that with the doll. You got ready for school, taking a scalding hot shower and repeating your daily routine of thoroughly scrubbing and exfoliating your face. You threw on your uniform, prioritizing the aesthetic of your uniform as you tugged on some rather cutesy slouch socks. You skipped breakfast at home, opting to grab something from the cafeteria before slipping out the front door and facing the cold air once again. Damn, this day was bound to be long as hell.

You reached school, giggling at your phone down the street as you ‘bickered’ back and forth with Miles.

‘alr alr mb. I didnt think it thru.’

‘Fym you didn’t think it through? I thought I was finna fail’

‘u actin like sb baby mama rn.’

‘Ntm now’

‘my fault’

You powered off your phone, jamming the smooth plastic case into the deep pockets of your black shorts under your school skirt. Today you had a class on burping babies and how to properly dress them for the winter, eagerly anticipating the cute little coats they’d provide for your shared babydoll. You took your seat, silently doodling in your notebook until you heard the familiar cold tone fade into the classroom. “Qué quieres decir? Esta mi mamá del bebé es ahí mismo,” he chuckled, carrying both the baby bag in one hand and Anylah in the other. “Baby mama is craaazy…” the boy he was talking to muttered, looking utterly tired and vaguely annoyed.

He took his seat next to you, giving you an upward nod as he cradled Anylah in one arm while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone with the other. 

“Not you calling me your baby mother…”

"It's funny"

Tags ♡

@ashsostrangee @chessboxx @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc

[knightsiscrabs]

made a quick little comic of a mentioned event in the upcoming chapter 5 of Folie à Deux while brainstorming for the next chapter's art :3 for such a quiet guy, din's massiff call echos like crazy. that cannot be pleasant to have happen right next to you