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astonmartinii · 2 days ago

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other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen #charles leclerc #kimi antonelli #ollie bearman #jenson button #lewis hamilton #george russell #alex albon #pierre gasly #yuki tsunoda #nico rosberg

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madamechrissy · 2 days ago

Text

Let me in your ocean, Swim

The five times Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, and the one that works

Pairings- Sukuna x F reader (both like 23/24)

Summary- You have known Sukuna your entire life, and he's infuriated you for most of it. Since you were kids on a playground he was picking on you, and you decided you hate him (love him!?) little do you know, he's been in love with you since the moment you met. There were five times he tried and epically failed to let you know. You all don't see each other for two years after college, when you run into him on Valentine's day at the bar- and you think, what better for getting jilted tonight then a hate fuck from Sukuna!? But... no, in fact he needs to finally tell you the truth. Sukuna 5+1 valentines story

CW- MDNI/NSFW- Idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers (kinda!?) Sukuna is TERRIBLE at feelings, reader is bratty, he is lowkey a bully when you're younger, go through the five times he tried to tell you (intermingles with the current night) sweet, angsty, smutty. Warnings oh boy a lot- Explicit sex, sexual tension, tummy bulges, breed kink, oral sex (m and f recieving) fingering, rough sex, creampie, possessive Sukuna, lots of dirty talk, alcohol underage, use of recreational drugs etc, it's me so ofc we have a lowkey breed kink lol- LONG ONE- 14.8k wc- TRUST ME PLZ lol

tracks for this Breathe // On My Own // Me & U // Wicked Games // The High

Comments/reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyyyy <3

You didn’t expect to be sitting alone at a bar for Valentine’s day, but here you are, dressed to the nines in a beautiful glittery black dress, hair done up, makeup perfect on your skin. You have glittery bangles along your wrist, and red bottom heels, you’re as dressed up as you ever got, but right before your date, your boyfriend decided to break things off with you.

Which leads you to this hole in the wall bar, across the street from the fancy restaurant you’d sat at for an hour waiting on him, only to get broken up via text. Sighing, you order another drink, tensing then when you hear it, the damn voice of the man who you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also had it bad for, for years and years, ever since elementary school.

“Tch, what’re you doing here brat?” You glare up at him, but when you see just how good Sukuna looks, after two years of not seeing him? You falter, lips parted just so as he smirks down at you.

However, his heart is pounding in his chest, despite certainly not showing you outwardly, you take his damn breath away. Sukuna has always found you to be the most beautiful, infuriating little creature in existence. And you’ve just gotten more beautiful, which in itself irritates the shit out of him, it was hard enough acting ‘normal’ around you all his life.

But now?

“What’re you doing here, Kuna?” He snorts, rolling ruby red eyes, leaning against the bar with an elbow propped on it, glaring at you.

“Don’t call me that, god.”

“It irritates you, so I will.” You smile up at him, sipping the rest of your drink, which he eyes disparagingly.

“What’s that pink shit?”

“Oh, like your hair?” You counter, raising a brow, his jaw sets. “Ya want one, Kuna?”

“No, I don’t want your little bitch drink.” You roll your eyes now, as he sits next to you, and your eyes sweep over his starch white dress shirt and black slacks, stretching over muscles that seemed to have only gotten more pronounced since college.

“Not even my cherry, hmm?” You tease, pulling the maraschino out of your cup, dangling it in front of his face.

“That’s long gone, I’m sure, looking all slutty …” He murmurs, right in your ear, you shove at him, scoffing.

“You’re slutty, Sukuna. Pretty sure you fucked a whole sorority last time we caught up?”

“Mmm, rumors, rumors.” He holds up two fingers now. “Gimme something that’s not a little bitch drink, please.”

“So manly, oh heavens!” You pretend to fan yourself and he can’t stop the laughter, but he soon covers it with a glare.

“Get her some more of this pink crap.” He says, and you are a little surprised then, looking at the handsome man who’s had your heart for so long you can’t remember a time before him.

“Are you buying me a drink?”

“I am buying you a drink. I… it’s been a long time.” He misses you, but the words are caught in his throat.

“It has been a long time. Thank you.” You smile as the bartender hands you another dirty Shirley, and hands Sukuna a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He sips at it, eyes darting over your frame, your sexy body that is so well shown in that dress of yours, all he can think of is unzipping it.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” You blink a bit.

“How’d you know I had one?”

Well, Sukuna’s been insta stalking you but he won’t admit it.

“Heard it from our friends, duh. Just because we don’t see each other doesn’t mean I don’t see them.”

“Yeah well, it’s not like… I didn’t want to see you. We left things…”

“Yeah.” He sighs now, running a hand through pastel locks, a hand with black tattoos and black nails, throwing off this corporate vibe he has, something dark about him, but then, there’s always been. “You single on Valentine’s day?”

“I am, officially. Ass of a boyfriend left me across the street via text. And… are you…”

“Yeah, I also got broken up with, but slapped in the face, and in person. Think they planned the shit?” You giggle, shaking your head and sipping your drink, leaning just a bit closer, one of your legs brushing his, strong muscles of his pressing on yours. He damn near moans just at feeling your body after so, so long.

“Maybe they did. I’ve wanted to see you, though… I just…”

“There’s something I wanted to… tell you. Actually. I thought about calling you, but…”

“Yeah? Calling me?”

“So surprising?”

“You hate me? So yeah.”

Sukuna sighs now, sipping his drink again, looking down into your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face, remembering just all those times he’d ruined it with you. Fuck, since the first moment he met you, he was a dick, and pushed you away, all because the shit he feels terrifies him. And over the years, he’s tried, but he thought you were too far gone, nothing but a regret, a memory.

Something to compare every girl he’s with, never you, are they? There’s no one like you.

But you’re here of all places, and though Sukuna thinks shit like ‘signs’ are the dumbest thing ever, he can’t let this pass, not this time. He takes a breath and his lips part, his fingers then brush your hair back, something far too gentle for Sukuna, something that makes your eyes dilate, your little gasp so sexy he can’t think.

“You trying to fuck me tonight?” You ask, and he chuckles, the gentle brush now a rough grip in your hair, leaning over you.

You taste the whiskey on his breath, you feel his lips so close, your breaths mingling, as your hand comes to his shirt, balling the fancy material in your little fist. “That what you want, brat? Me to fuck you finally?”

“Maybe I do.” He freezes then, blinking long lashes, leaning even closer, free hand gripping your waist in the crowded bar. “A hate fuck? Sounds like the perfect thing to forget tonight.”

“Hate fuck, huh?” What you don’t know is, Sukuna is in love with you.

“Never thought of it? I doubt that. I remember things.” You lean even closer, hand now pulling at the nape of your neck, his other hand pressing against your ribcage, thumb right under the swell of your breasts, shooting desire down your tummy, across your body.

“I remember more, trust me. I need… to tell you shit. Okay? Will your bratty ass listen?”

“Make me.”

“I swear to…” You giggle as he slams his lips on yours, exhaling at how good it feels, god was good the word!? How fucking perfect you feel, mushy things he’ll never admit, his heart thudding in his chest. You whimper, this sound from the back of your throat that has him picturing every sound he’s going to elicit from you tonight.

His lips are firm, but surprisingly gentle for Sukuna, different from the couple of kisses over the years, no it’s too much. His tongue slipping between the seam of your lips, and devouring your mouth. Your arms slip up around his neck, kissing him back, arching toward him more and more. Your years of desire come out, your body reacting to his every movement.

You want him.

He needs you.

He pulls back, taking a breath and smirking. “Fucked out expression how? From a kiss?”

“You’re such a dick, I swear to god.” You shove at him now, as the music from the bar vibrates, beating erratic like your heart.

“Listen… if you can actually listen to me tonight, I’ll make you cum so much you won’t even be able to think about your dumb little ex boyfriend. Yeah?” Your chest heaves up and down with your breaths, vivid images spilling through, his white grin flashes under the neon lights. “Can’t think now?”

“I… fucking… okay. I’ll listen to whatever bullshit you want, I guess.”

“Need me that bad?”

“I’m gonna go-”

“No, shit. Shit, no don’t… stop it.” He holds you to him now, sighing as he looks at your pretty scowl, one that just makes him want you more. “Just give me the night to explain some shit, yeah?”

“Fine. But let’s get out of here after this drink.”

“Desperate to be alone, huh?”

“Y’know, that bartender is kinda cute.” You wink at him then, leaning forward, earning Sukuna yanking at your hair. “Ow! Always did that shit.”

“That’s the first thing I wanted to talk about… the day we met.” You rest your chin on your hand now, hair falling just so as he remembers.

*****

The first time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 4th/5th grade (Kuna age 11, Y/N age 10)

You were the new girl, a little shy but so pretty. And well, when you came up to Sukuna and smiled, asking where your class was, he couldn’t even speak, he just stood there, mouth flopping like some fish as you waited. His little brother Yuuji finally answered you, staring at his brother in confusion. ‘it’s right there across the hall’.

“Oh, thank you! What’s your name?” You smile at him then, and your smile is just too… annoying, yes, it annoys Sukuna.

“Yuuji, I’m in fourth grade but Sukuna is in fifth. What grade are you in?” He nudges his brother, who rolls his ruby red eyes.

“I’m in fourth too! Oh, so you’re Sukuna then?” You ask sweetly, turning to Sukuna, something happens then, Sukuna blushes. “Are you okay?”

He scowls at you now. “Of course I am, what’re you looking at?” He demanded, and your mouth opened in surprise.

“What?”

“Yeah, stop staring, new kid.” You roll your eyes now, shaking your head with a narrowing of your own eyes.

“You’re pretty rude.”

“You’re pretty weird.” You scoff then, and Yuuji is waving his arms up and down, stepping between you.

“Be nice, Sukuna. Um, can I walk you to class?” You nod then, giving Sukuna a glare, as Yuuji whispers in his ear.

“You’re such a jerk, she’s pretty.”

“Tch, whatever.” Sukuna watches as you walk off with Yuuji then, he does not like whatever it is you just made him feel. He’s thankful you’re not in any of his classes until you walk right into art, and you’re nervously standing near the teacher. She introduces you, and Sukuna finally learns your name.

“You can sit next to Sukuna!” Sukuna crosses his arms, jaw setting, and you look at him, wondering just what his problem is.

You think he’s really cute, for such a jerk, as you sit next to him and peer over at his sketch, which is actually really good. Trying to still be friendly, you let him know- “that’s awesome!”

Sukuna scoffs, covering it up quickly, no one has really seen his art, and your compliment makes him blush. “I didn’t show you.”

You frown now, brows knitting together. “Um, sorry, but it’s so cool. Could I see more?”

“No!”

“Um…”

“Just stop talking, would you? Bad enough I have to sit by you.” Your lower lip trembles, and Sukuna feels horrible now. “I’m… look, I’m-”

“Sorry.” You whisper, sniffling just a bit and looking at the teacher, and Sukuna hates himself then, he keeps wanting to say something, anything, but when he finally catches you in the hall, you glare at him.

How are you even cuter glaring!?

“Leave me alone, you’re a… a jerk!” You say then, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Me, a jerk? Why because I’m not fawning over the new girl?”

“No, because you… just are a jerk!”

“Well you’re a brat.” Sukuna says, and you gasp, turning angrily and clutching your books, Sukuna rubs his hand over his face, sighing then.

He really messed that up.

*****

You swirl your straw around your cup as Sukuna sips on his whiskey, looking far too damn fine you think, and you know it’s not the couple of drinks in your system. It’s just him and who he is, everything about him since day one drew you in, despite his best efforts at being an ass to you. You smile a bit as you remember the day that you met him.

“You were so mean, for no reason.” You muse softly, he sighs then, running a hand through pink strands of slick backed hair.

“Yeah, I was… then when I tried to apologize, you scowled at me.” You giggle then, the sound ending him completely, the way your cute nose scrunches up, god had he ever told you? Has he ever really said a compliment more than a handful of times to you?

“I was mad at you, for sure. My whole life people really liked me, but you didn’t at all, and I couldn’t fix it.”

“People pleaser.” You sigh at that, leaning a bit on your elbow, breasts showing far too much in your pretty neckline.

“I am, for sure.”

“When you laugh…” He trails off now, psyching himself up, taking a breath as he studies you seriously.

“When I laugh…”

“Your nose scrunches up… it’s cute.” He mumbles, almost like he’s in pain, and you giggle again, making him smile just a bit before he realizes it.

“It is!? Is that a compliment from Sukuna?”

“There are a lot of compliments I have for you. But, yeah, it’s annoyingly cute.” Your giggles relax a bit, as you now bite your lower lip, tempting him to kiss you all over again. “The things I can’t wait to do to you.”

That sobers you up, sending chills across your entire body, desire stark on your pretty face. “Oh yeah?” Your little breathy mumble wrecks him, but outwardly he raises a brow.

“Is that your attempt at being nonchalant, brat? Oh yeah?” He mocks, you shove at him then, as he snorts in laughter.

“Is that your attempt at being sexy- ‘can’t wait to show you little brat’ pshh.” You’re mocking him in a deep tone, Sukuna can’t stop the smirk.

“Bet it worked, bet you’re all wet, hmm?” You pause now, biting your lower lip again, teeth leaving marks when he gently pulls it from your teeth’s grip. “Nothing smart to say?”

“Shut up.” Is all you mumble, and he exhales, ruby eyes glinting as they watch you so carefully, studying your every feature. “So is that what you needed to say? My laugh is kind of cute?”

Sukuna clears his throat now, shifting a bit on the barstool, running a thumb down the glass. “No. The day we met, I should have told you that… you were pretty, and sweet. And I was an ass.” You blink in confusion.

“Sukuna, are you dying or something!? Is this some end of life apology tour!? You better not be, I swear to-”

“Shut it.” He stops you now, a fingertip to your lips. “I ain’t dying, calm down, can a man not… speak on some shit?”

“Sure, but it’s you, like my mortal enemy? Bane of my existence? Bully the entirety of school?”

One of his big hands is brushing against your bare thigh now, you look down at it, all tattooed, veiny, huge… making your tummy flip. “Maybe I wanted to be more than that.”

“Yeah?” Your voice is a breathy whisper, you half wonder if you’re in some dream, Sukuna being nice to you!? Being so close after so long?

“Yeah. So another drink, another story?”

“Hmm, do I get another kiss if I listen?” You tease, feeling the liquor make you bold, warming your insides. Sukuna’s lips quirk up on one side, his breath tickling your neck when he leans close, lips almost brushing against it. You feel your pulse flutter when his plump lips touch the shell of your ear just barely, like a fire igniting inside you, more than any liquor could produce.

“I’ll not just kiss you everywhere, I’ll fucking bite you everywhere, lick you all over, every…” His lips kiss your jaw line. “Pretty.” Your neck. “Inch.” He’s right behind your ear, that sensitive spot, kissing and nipping just so, you bite back a cry and fail, earning his chuckle. “You’re so easy f’me, huh brat?”

“Oh f-fuck you…” Your grumble makes him laugh, the sound tickling you as hiegrips your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “You’re the worst.”

“I know, I have been, for all these years. Ya ready for the next story? Then I promise…” He’s trailing his fingers down your thigh now, making your knees literally knock together, tummy clenching with an insane need you’ve only felt once, back on the last day you all really talked to each other. “Then we can head out of here.”

“Better be good, if it’s boring I’ll leave.” Your half hearted promise just makes him throw his head back in laughter, as he orders two more drinks, loosening his tie just a bit, making your thoughts haywire. “Where to, then? What trip down memory lane of bully Sukuna?”

Sukuna tenses just a bit, the things that he’s held in so long threatening to spill. “Middle school… more specifically, seventh grade, Yuuji’s party?”

It’s your turn to tense, at the brutal memory, so long ago. “Oh…”

*****

The second time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 7th/8th grade (Kuna age 14, Y/N age 13)

You were boogie skating with these fancy rainbow skates you saved all your allowance for, as all your friends were gathered around, some over at concessions, some at the arcade, some skating alongside you. But Sukuna? He was leaning on the edge of the brightly colored wall, watching no one but you, he could pick you out of anywhere, really.

You were so good at skating too, legs crisscrossing to the beat, your friends and his all murmuring about how good you are at it. You’re giggling as you whisper something to your friend Nobara, her and Yuuji were all best friends, along with Megumi, who was sipping on a coke next to Sukuna and Yuuji.

“She’s really good, isn’t she?” Megumi says, and Sukuna scoffs, shrugging.

“I guess.”

“She’s insane at it, she teaches kids and everything.” Yuuji says.

“You got it so bad for her.” Megumi teases, and then Sukuna tenses a bit, looking at you again, then at his brother, who is blushing.

“Nah, she’s just my friend. She’s so pretty though.”

You and Nobara are hopping off the floor, and Nobara looks right at Sukuna then, blinking her brown eyes and narrowing them. Sukuna wonders at just what you’re telling her, as you nervously bite your lower lip, then you’re waving your arms wildly as Nobara skates over to the three of them, and you tentatively follow, color decorating your cheeks under neon lights.

“Hey, Sukuna.” Nobara says, and he leans back on the wall.

“Yeah, what is it?”

She comes closer then, leaning a little too close. “Do you like her?” She says your name then, and Sukuna glares, stuttering, Megumi and Yuuji snicker in laughter behind him when you approach.

“What kind of question is that?” He says, and Nobara glares now.

“It’s just a question, okay? You can’t keep your eyes off her.” She smirks, and you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Ignore her, please.” You mumble, wanting to fall into a hole then and there, as the loud music blares around the rink.

“Everyone says you have a crush.” Nobara continues.

“You do stare at her all the time…” Megumi says, Sukuna turns away then, crossing his arms, feeling so embarrassed he can’t think.

“You don’t have to answer, Sukuna, it’s okay…” You touch his shoulder then, and just a touch from you ruins his middle school brain, when he looks down at your cute little face. “I figured you didn’t, she just…”

“I don’t, not at all.” He says the words so sharply you yank your hand back like it was burned, eyes wide on him now.

“Okay.” You manage, and Sukuna hates how your face falls then.

“You’re such a jerk! Why do you have to say things like that!?” Yuuji says, and he scoffs.

“Always coming to her defense, aren’t you the one with the crush?”

“He’s my friend, Sukuna.” You say, as Yuuji scowls at his older brother.

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t ask you out if you were the last girl in school.” Your face falls now, and everyone gasps, as there were more kids from your class gathering around. Sukuna falters then, but you cross your arms, scowling.

“Good, because I would never say yes! You’re the last boy in the world I’d ever go out with!” You shout it practically, people are all whispering as you skate off then, fury raging through your veins, and Sukuna stands there, as everyone looks at him with confusion.

“What’s your problem!? She really likes you, you’re so stupid!” Nobara hisses, chasing after you now, and Megumi and Yuuji shake their heads, leaving Sukuna to skate off towards the lockers, hastily taking them off as his mind whirls with what he’s just done to you.

You’ve done nothing but be as nice as you can to him since he’s Yuuji’s brother, but that’s the only reason he thinks you’ve tolerated him at all. He picks on you constantly, he tugs at your hair, he’s even snipped a part of it off in elementary school, he may or may not have kept it.

He throws paper balls at you, he tugs at your shirt and makes fun of you, and even through all of it you’ve not done more than scowl, roll your eyes, tell him off. But Sukuna has it bad for you, in fact he thinks he’s in love with you, but he just becomes more of an idiot as you all are getting older. You affect him more and more as you become prettier and prettier.

He watches the way the light hits your face in class and stares dreamily before you’ll catch him, and he’ll scowl instead. He’s an idiot.

And now he knows he hurt you.

As he’s outside, about to walk home, you’re standing against the wall, covering your face, in tears, when you see him, turning away quickly. Sukuna pauses then, his heart breaking, knowing he’s embarrassed you, but he doesn’t know what to say. He walks up, earning your glare, though your eyes are puffy, and your nose is all red from rubbing it.

“I… I…” He trails off, and you shake your head.

“If your goal is to embarrass me, you succeeded. I should have never told her I liked you…”

Sukuna sputters, mouth opening and closing. “You what!?”

“I don’t anymore, don’t worry.” You rub at your eyes now, sobs catching in your throat when you look up into ruby red eyes, eyes that apparently hate you, but you see something different, something softer.

“Why would you like me?” He asks then, and you want to laugh.

“How would I know? You’re a mean jerk, always have been. Maybe I needed you to be mean like that, to really knock that idiot idea out of my head.” Sukuna feels himself breaking inside now, two hands coming to your shoulders, making you gasp as you tilt your head back to look at him.

He’s already taller than anyone, and the more he grows up the cuter he is, the worse your crush gets. The more you hang out at Yuuji’s house, the more you see him, the more you fall, shit the meaner he is the more you fall. You can’t even find it in you to stay mad at him, when he makes your heart race, when you’re drawing doodles of him and you in your notebook.

You asked Nobara not to say anything, but she was so sure that he liked you back, though you knew he didn’t, you knew he hated you. He has since he met you, and you don’t know what you did.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean it.” You scoff, shoving at him, his hands fall.

“You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”

Sukuna blinks back his own emotion, gulping. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You look up at him, when your eyes look at him like that he hates himself so much, knowing he’s just lying to you, to himself.

“I just… everyone was…”

“You care so much what people think, despite acting like you don’t.” Sukuna scowls at you now. “Embarrassed to like me?”

“What!? Why the fuck would it be embarrassing to like you?”

“You tell me. Not pretty enough? Not popular enough? I see who you hang out with. Just forget it, I promise I’ll never say I like you again.” You peek at your phone now, sliding it up, but Sukuna cups your face, leaning close, your eyes dart to his lips, thinking for some insane moment he’d be your first kiss.

No way though.

“You’re pretty, okay? Very pretty.” You pause then, mouth open in a gasp, and Sukuna laughs without humor. “How can you think you’re not?”

“I… um… you…”

“I didn’t mean it.” He steps closer, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “I’m sorry I… made you cry.”

“You always make me cry.” You whisper, and he gulps now.

“Yeah, I do. But this time… I’m really sorry.”

You sigh then, hand touching his wrist, making his own pulse race, as he thinks wildly of kissing you, of something he’s dreamed of since he first found out what it was. “You don’t have to apologize for not liking me back.”

“I-”

“But for saying it like that? Yeah it was mean.”

“Listen…”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile sadly, backing off when you see your mom’s car pull up, and Sukuna is left dumbfounded. “Don’t worry, I swear I won’t say it again, I won’t even… think it again.”

You know you’re lying.

Sukuna says nothing as you get in your mom’s car, and she’s asking if you’re okay, he watches her hug you for a moment before she begins to drive, and he sees your eyes full of tears again, streaking down your face. Yuuji walks out front then, nudging him as he watches his brother’s eyes glimmer with what looks like tears.

“Why’d you do it?” Yuuji asks, and Sukuna sighs.

“I don’t know.” He admits, Yuuji puts a hand on his back then.

“You’re a big idiot.”

“Excuse me!?”

“You are.”

He was.

*****

Suddenly all that embarrassment floods you, you tense at the memories, hating how vivid they are, after all these years. You nervously look away, downing the rest of your nearly empty drink in one gulp. Sukuna is quiet then, and you wonder just what his angle is, is he here to embarrass you again? Is this some long term bully shit? Is that an apology tour?

“Are you in therapy and making rounds?” You ask softly, voice breaking, and then you feel his hand wrap the back of your neck, resting his head against yours, making you ache for him.

“I don’t feel bad for shit I’ve done, ever, except what I’ve done to you.” You look at him, he’s too close, far too close. He sees your emotions mirroring his own, and it breaks him. “I should have never fucking done it.”

“Sukuna, we were in middle school. It’s fine.”

“It’s not though, because it was such a blatant lie. God how did you not know how bad I was down for you?” You suck in a breath, shaking your head quickly, and hopping off the barstool.

“You’re lying! What even is this shit.” Sukuna pulls you between his thighs, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you tremble. “Sukuna…”

“I am not lying, but I was then, an idiot kid who was mean as shit to you.”

“Why were you so mean?”

“I’m trying to get there. Can you keep listening?” You shake your head, sniffling. Now, it’s just like being back there, back on that day where you were so embarrassed you could hardly face anyone.

“I can’t handle this shit… it’s things I’ve shoved so far back…”

“I know.” Sukuna’s strong thighs are under your tiny little hands, pressing against his muscles under the expensive fabric, as everything fades in the world but him, but the longing that’s eating you both up from the inside. Your breaths come quicker when he looks at you, that intense way, with his arrogant smirk finally not on his face, just once.

“Why do you wanna do this, rehash it?” You ask now, leaning even closer, until you’re right against his body, and he’s bending low.

“I need to tell you some important shit, I just need you to listen. Do I need to reward your bratty ass for some patience?” There’s that smirk.

“Maybe, I offered to hook up, not go through yearbooks.”

“Fine, so let’s get out of here, let you get some air, and we’ll continue. I’ll… take care of you, hmm?”

“Yeah, think you could?” He snorts, rolling his ruby eyes, hopping down, towering right over you, taking over your every sense.

“You ask dumb fucking questions, I think that’s the one thing you know I could do…” He leans right down, cupping your face. “Ruin you for anyone.”

“Big talk.” You’re so full of shit, your body is on fire, your heart is pounding out of your chest, the clothes feel too tight, everything swirls around you.

“You know it’s not.” Sukuna pays for the tab then, walking you out, the cool night air hits you, making you shiver, so he wraps a jacket around your shoulders, shocking you. “You think I’m that much of a dick?”

“Yes.” He laughs then, that booming laugh that makes him throw his head back, as you snuggle against his jacket, inhaling the expensive scent of musky cologne. “You have nice taste though.”

“Bet you do too. A nice taste.” He pulls you against his hard chest, feeling your soft breasts press against him, making his cock hard just from that. “Wanna know how badly I’ve wanted to?”

“T-taste me?” You whisper, all bravado and teasing gone, the breeze gently blowing your hair around as you wait for his driver.

“Fuck yes. Should I right here, brat?” He slips his hand under the lapels of the jacket, slipping over your dress and slipping it up, as people walk in and out of the busy little dive bar. You feel yourself so wet you’ve made a werspot in your panties, panties his thumb finds slowly.

“Right h-here?” You whisper nervously, when his driver pulls up in a whole fucking limo, you blink in surprise at it, as his hands fall.

“You’d let me, so desperate.” You glare again, making him grin. “I love when you scowl at me.”

“Are you feeling okay!? And a limo, pretentious.” You eagerly slide in with his help though, seeing everything one could dream of, as he leans over, pulling out a bottle of champagne, raising a brow, the slits in it just making him sexier, damn him. “You just ride in a limo?”

“Why not? I have these long legs, and I like to be comfortable.”

“Psh…” He pours you a glass of champagne then, and you eye a little white baggie curiously, along with a bag of weed. “Damn you partying everywhere?”

“On occasion, usually this shit is for clients though.” You giggle a bit, sipping the champagne. “I would never offer coke, but you smoke?”

“No, not really. I did once and it made me so stupid.”

“Fair enough.” He closes up the little open box, arm over you casually, kissing his way up your neck carefully, enjoying your sighs of pleasure. “Do you want a reward for listening to two stories?”

“Hmm, what do I get? A gold star?” He smirks, shaking his head and kissing you, the tart of the champagne swapping between your tongues, the kiss is slow, sensual, before it builds, and he’s setting down your glasses. He’s got you on his lap so quickly your head spins, and you’re grinding on his length, gasping in pleasure, your head falling back.

“Holy… f-fuck…” He huffs, all bravado gone when he feels your slick warmth through the layer of his dress pants. “You’re that hot?”

“Am I?” You can’t think, not when you feel his length pressed, making you whimper, which he chuckles at, nipping your collarbone between his teeth.

“That little whine? Fuck… pathetic.”

“I hate you.” You grumble then, shoving at him, but he holds you by your hips, pressing you against him harder. “Let me go, ass.”

“I like you pathetic, sweet, whiny. Sexy as fuck.” You are dragged back down for a kiss, your teeth clicking with the intensity, as you roll your hips more and more, and he slips those hands up, the veins popping out when he grabs you bruisingly. “Everything about you is made to drive me insane.”

“You’re saying insane shit, Sukuna. Is this a booty call, a hate fuck… or…” You pause, gasping as he thumbs your clit over your panties, pressing against the damp fabric, making you whimper again, eyes rolling back.

“Ya think that’s all I want? No, brat, the reason I didn’t do shit… is because… I know I’ll never be able to fuckin’ stop.” You’re flipped under him, back pressing against the seat, as he hovers over you. You yank his tie down, slamming his lips against yours, hungry lips that drink every moan you have when his hand slips between your thighs, yanking your thong to the side.

“Kuna…” He groans, slipping fingers up and down your slit, you’re trembling now, breaths quicker and quicker.

“Need something, brat?” Your brows lower, you have an insult on the tip of your tongue when his finger tip presses your tight entrance, and then Sukuna loses it, shoving his finger all the way in, moaning. “You’re this fuckin tight?”

“Ngh…” You can’t manage an answer, not when he’s crooking his finger just so, pressing that little spot inside you, finding it better than any boyfriend could just the first time, and your walls are gripping his thick digit, while your hand still clutches his tie.

“There it is, ha- feel her, fuck.” Sukuna is simultaneously in control and losing control as he plays you, curling his fingers in syrupy wetness, making you fall apart under him, hips bucking when his thumb presses your clit again. “Like both, that pussy so slutty f’me?”

“S-slutty…” Your brain short circuits, when he slips in two, stretching you out, your dress scrunched up over your hips, he hovers over you, watching every expression on your pretty face avidly.

“That’s it… let go, huh? Make a fucking mess.” You’re panting, you’ve never cum from just fingers like this, not when he’s building that tension, pressing two up and rubbing your clit, until you’re reaching higher and higher. “Feel it, feel her, she wants to cum, just let her, huh?”

“F-fuck!” You scream out then, kissing him deeply, desperately, as he makes your pussy convulse around him, orgasm washing through you in waves, until you’re weak and boneless under him, twitching cunt gripping his fingers, so slick you hear it.

“That’s it, there you go.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit now, easing up, sucking your juices off his fingers, cheeks hollowing. You gulp at the sight, of the sexiest fucking thing you’ve seen, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Can’t wait to bury my face, eat you so good you pass the fuck out.”

“Wh-what? You…” You can’t function, from fingers, when he kisses you again, slower, letting you taste yourself.

“Can’t wait to make you stupid. Fuck your brains out. Be nothing but me, brat, yeah?” His husky voice, his tight grip, his brutal kisses destroy you, they’re not the kiss you shared last time, not even close, he’s letting go, he’s ending you.

“K-Kuna…” He exhales now, easing off you as he helps you up, your coat having fallen onto the seats, leaving him to caress your bare arms gently.

“Feel better, brat? So needy.” You smack at him, only making him laugh just a bit. “Wanna know what I should’ve told you then?”

“Shit… forgot all of that.” You blink rapidly, disoriented.

“Cock drunk off fingers? So easy.”

“You know, drop me off-”

“Hush, brat.” He yanks you up, sitting you right on his lap, but this time sideways, sipping his drink and then holding the glass to your lips, you sip greedily, sighing and finding your arms wrapping around his neck, as he pulls you even closer against him, burying his face against your neck.

“What did you need to tell me then, Kuna?” You whisper, getting weaker by the moment, the orgasm destroying you, and making you wonder…

What would his dick be like?

His mouth?

If his fingers casually do that?

“I should have told you…” He exhales, pulling you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent greedily. “That I did have that crush, fuck way more than that, you were all I could think of. You still are.”

You still now, pulling back a bit, as your eyes lock in the led lit limo, your breaths mingling as they come quicker and quicker. “Y-you liked me?”

He shakes his head. “That wasn’t even the word. There’s a stronger word… one that terrified me then. I was a little ass, a shithead.”

“Yeah you were.”

He glares, pinching your hip then, making you yelp. “Can’t wait to occupy that bratty fucking mouth.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna shut me up?” You whisper, earning his cock leaking precum now, god only you could have this effect on him.

“I’ll shut you up, have your voice hoarse, shove my cock so deep.” You whimper, shifting, and he kisses you again, brutal and rough, teeth almost making your lower lip bleed, his grip on your hips pressing so deep you can’t breathe. “Hoarse from screaming, from my cock stretching your throat, so fucked out you won’t be able to sit or walk.”

“This is a lot of talk, Kuna. How many more fucking stories before you back it up, hmm?” You demand, voice breathy, he smiles then.

“Three.”

“Oh come on!”

“Shut it, brat. You ain’t gonna die, ain’t had my dick this long.”

“Well hurry your mean bully stories up.” You earn a gentle smack on your cheek, only making you whine out, as you smack him back, making him die for you, kissing you again before he remembers.

He needs to tell you it all.

“Make 'em quick, dammit.”

“Slutty brat.” He earns another smack, grinning, white teeth glinting. “Fine, fine… how about that time we kissed in high school?”

You heat up then. “Oh…”

*****

The third time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, junior/sophomore year of HS- (Kuna age 17, Y/N age 16)

By this time, Sukuna already had a reputation, he was the bad boy, always in and out of trouble. He rode a ridiculous motorcycle around, and he always had the new flavor of his month on the back of it. You barely even knew a girl who hadn’t made out with Sukuna… or probably more, but you were not one to care.

Sukuna and you went from enemies to nothing. He quit picking on you, and in some fucked, weird way you missed it, any of his attention. Walking through the halls and seeing him with his arm around a new girl all the time filled you with some odd sensation you didn’t wanna think of.

It’s a party over at Gojo’s house tonight, his parties were kind of ridiculous because of just how rich he was, and he damn near lived all alone. There was an insane amount of people there, as you navigated the party with a red solo cup in your hands, so nervously, Yuuji came bouncing over to you waving with his happy little grin on his face.

“Hey!” He shouts your name, Megumi follows in tow, smiling just a bit, a mere quirk of the corner of his lips.

“Hey Yuuji, Megumi. Where’s Nobara?”

“She’s over there, about to play… suck and blow.” Yuuji snickers now, you giggle at him and roll your eyes, looking over as people are sucking on a debit card, passing it in a circle, you see Gojo there, kissing a girl then, making you blush a bit as they really go at it.

“Oh… that game sounds…”

“Germ ridden.” Megumi declares with a shiver, you snort in laughter then.

“Yes, germ ridden.” You agree, then your heart stops as Sukuna is right in the mix, he’s towering over everyone but Gojo, as he passes the card to and from the girls on either side of him. For some reason, every time you see him you get this feeling, it’s not butterflies, it’s vicious moths, aggressive and beating you.

Yes, moths you think. Sukuna didn’t give butterflies.

He smirks at you like he just knows something all the time, and nothing could be more irritating. Seeing you now, Gojo shouts your name, waving you three over to the game, the table in front of them was littered with shot glasses and fallen empty cups. “Hey sweets!”

“Satoru, hey!” He gives you a big hug.

“Mwah!” You giggle as he kisses your forehead, Satoru Gojo is a touchy feely friend to damn near everyone, including Sukuna. “Thanks for coming, I know it’s not your scene.”

“I totally snuck out for this, it better be good.” You tease, and Satoru wiggles his brows, brushing back silky white hair, as Sukuna scowls at the gesture. He hated just how touchy he was with the girl Sukuna so secretly pined for.

But you certainly didn’t know he did, in fact Sukuna kept it such a good secret you thought he straight up hated you. Although the picking on you eased up some as you all got older, you’re just getting prettier, sweeter, smarter. You don’t hang out as much with Yuuji, and Sukuna misses you there. He has one class with you and he thinks he’s maybe said a handful of things to you this year.

“You can stand right… here.” Satoru moves another girl over between Yuuji and Megumi, and puts you smack dab between him and Sukuna, making you tense up as you look at him.

“Hah, why her?” Sukuna says then, your fists clench at your sides, Satoru lets out a little laugh.

“Prefer me next to you, baby boy?” He blows a kiss at Sukuna, and he grimaces, earning the laughter of everyone around, except you, feeling just how much Sukuna still can’t stand your presence, for whatever reason.

“God no, okay fine.”

“Yes, I know it's so terrible, huh?” You mumble, Satoru hands you the card then with a smirk.

“No way, you’re the best partner. Get started missy.” You suck on it then, pressing it between your lips and Satoru’s, as each of you passed the card. Along the way it falls across from you, and two people have to make out, everyone else has a drink. You cough just a bit at the burn of this god awful punch you’re sipping then, and Sukuna gives you that sardonic ass look.

“Can’t handle a drink, brat?”

“No, I never have…” He blinks a bit then.

“Oh, shit… why-”

“Pay attention, Sukuna.” Gojo calls, and he turns then, sucking on the card, then bending low, one hand brushing your shoulder as he blows the card on your lips, then you turn and go to blow the card onto Gojo’s as the card clatters to the table.

‘Ooooh’ everyone’s whispering and giggling as Satoru bends low, tilting your chin up to look up into his pretty blue eyes, Sukuna’s fury grows with every second, as he’s never seen you with anyone, thank god.

He could almost pretend you were his, that he didn’t get in his own way, that he doesn’t long after you for every moment of every day until this very moment. When Satoru leans down and kisses you, he feels it like a punch to the gut, something nauseating, seeing his hands on you.

His lips on yours.

Sukuna is downing a shot and having to look away when Satoru’s hand entangles in your hair at the nape of your neck. He’s never wanted so badly till take someone the fuck out, and for what? You’re not his, you probably never would be, it’s not like he has any reason to be this upset. But…

You’re gasping as Satoru kisses you deeply, slipping his tongue in between your lips, and your tummy flutters as he does. Satoru’s breath is sweet, and little does he know yet, he’s your first kiss, then and there in front of countless people. He pulls back with a little smile, his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, as you try to gather yourself, he leans in against your ear.

“You’re a good kisser, sweets.” You smile a bit, laughing breathlessly.

“My first.”

“No way!?” He pulls back and blinks a bit, eyes looking at the huge, furious pink haired man behind you. Satoru smirks mischievously, it’s no secret to him or any of Sukuna’s friends how bad he has it. “I’ll keep it secret.”

Satoru crosses his chest with his fingers in the sign of a cross, and you exhale in relief. “Thank you. Shots?”

“Shots!” You both down shots with everyone, and then Satoru picks up the game again, as you turn just a bit to see Sukuna glaring down at you.

“Something wrong?” You ask curiously, and he laughs then, a mocking sound, shaking his head.

“Why would shit be wrong?”

“Right, you didn’t have to kiss me.” You say with a pat on his arm, and he gulps down more of his drink, before his hand crushes the solo cup.

“Tch.” He says nothing as the card hits him again, and you almost assume it will fall, that he’ll kiss someone, but it doesn’t, not until it hits you, then the card clatters to the fucking ground, leaving you looking up at him wide eyed.

“Oooh, those two!?” Someone says, and everyone stares at you both, it’s obvious Sukuna’s a bully to you, and that you can’t stand him.

“Two kisses in one game already?” Satoru teases, you bite your lip then, looking at Sukuna’s mouth, set in a line.

“You don’t have to.” You say softly, and Sukuna snatches you up against him then, shocking you, your eyes fly to his.

“Think I’m scared, brat?” He whispers.

“I think you don’t want to.” You whisper back, and you expect it, some retort of his, but he slams his lips down on yours, taking over every sense you’ve ever had, tasting your lips and tongue as he devours you then. It’s not sweet and sensual like Satoru, it’s full of everything he’s ever felt, pouring in your lips.

Your hand slides up his arm, across a bicep, thumb brushing it when his two hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer. He kisses you hard and brutal, his hands tightening to a bruising touch as he practically growls into your mouth, his tongue moving against yours. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but it feels all consuming.

It’s wild and fiery, and you can feel his heart slamming in his chest, his breathing heavy as yours come in shallow pants, and it’s like everything stops around you. You can’t remember everyone is watching you, can’t be embarrassed when a hand slips up your spine, and he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. You can’t hear any of the whispers, not with your heart pounding in your ears.

You don’t know why you’re kissing him back with such fervor, why your arms are wrapped around his neck, the boy you hate, right? The boy who’s made school awful at times, who loves to fuck with you almost every day, you think maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the thrill of it all, but as your kiss ends you know you’re wrong. Kisses don’t feel like this, do they?

He pulls back, damn near ready to tear into you here and there in front of everyone, something feral happening to him, Sukuna has already been with a couple of girls, but he never felt anything more intense than kissing you, then seeing your reddened plump lips, swollen from him. It drives his high school brain absolutely erratic, when he cups your face, looking how small you are compared to him.

He pictures lifting you and-

“Okay, okay… calm down or get a room.” Satoru teases, as Yuuji and Megumi have their jaws on the damn floor.

Everything is spinning now, not from the alcohol but from that kiss, from the intensity of his emotions crashing into yours. You pull away, panting, and his eyes are so dark then, his pupils dilated with something you’ve never seen before. Is it… desire? Is it… curiosity? It feels like something more… something…

You blush furiously, clearing your throat when you realize you’re just standing there with your mouth open, in front of an entire party. Sukuna doesn’t stop staring at you, in fact he can’t rip his eyes off you, nor does he take his hands off you, as you tremble now, goosebumps where his touch still sits on your skin.

“I need some air… too many kisses.” You manage, before running out then, struggling to get a breath, the tiny amount of alcohol is coursing through your veins, mixing with the heat from Sukuna’s kisses.

You’re inhaling the night air greedily, looking up at the starry sky, shaking your head as you cover your overheated face. You’d kissed Satoru and Sukuna, and Satoru had been so fun, so sweet and exciting. But what the actual heck was that with Sukuna!? What was this feeling you can’t shake, you can’t cope with!?

Sukuna dies to go after you, to finish everything he started, to kiss your face, your neck, perhaps more if you were ready. He would be happy just kissing you though, nothing else, if you offered just that, because he’s never felt it. Satoru, Suguru and his other friends are all snickering at him now.

“Go after her, Romeo.” Suguru says, and Sukuna glares at him.

“What? Why?”

“C’mon man, we all saw. Looked like you’d eat her.” Satoru says.

“In more ways than one?” Suguru chimes in, earning Sukuna’s angry glare, he shakes his head then. “Oh stop this… she’s hot, why not go for it?”

“She’s the bane of my existence. A kiss doesn’t change that.”

“She’s available then?” Satoru asks teasingly, as you’re walking back up, getting a drink poured by Nobara.

“Of course she is… it was just a kiss in a game.” You hear him then, and Nobara instantly has her hand comfortingly on your back.

“Don’t pay attention, he clearly was into you.” She murmurs, Satoru eyes you both then, before looking back at Sukuna.

“So if I ask her out you’re cool with it buddy?” He teases with a big grin.

“If you what!?”

“Mmm, ask her out. If you don’t even like her that way?” Sukuna sputters now, and everyone’s whispering about him, about the kiss.

“Why ask me?” He huffs with disdain, and you quietly join back in, this time on the other side of Satoru, Sukuna notices it furiously, making a show of kissing the next girl as the card drops again.

You hate how you feel about it, about him.

As you’re dancing later with Satoru, you watch him sitting on the couch with two girls on his lap, but his eyes are laser focused on you, every motion you make with your hips in a figure eight motion. You feel his eyes like a brand on your skin, like he’s undressing you with them, but he doesn’t come near you, you’re both just across the room, with the energy between you.

The amount of times Sukuna replays this in his mind over and over, the kiss that destroyed him. But instead of telling you how he feels, he says nothing, watching as you move on, and as he pretends he is as well, but is he really? Will he ever be?

*****

You’re remembering the kiss vividly, Sukuna watches your eyes go fuzzy, as you both pull up to his place. You just sit there, nervously shiting in his lap. “Those were… my first kisses. Isn’t that insane?”

“What was insane was that I wanted to kill him for kissing you, I wanted to kill anyone who touched you, kissed you.”

“You did?” You ask softly, he nods then, smirking just a bit.

“Best kiss I had.”

“What!?”

“I should have told you. Not acted like…

“A dick?”

“That mouth, brat.” He is glaring as you giggle. “I acted like I didn’t care, but I did… and your bratty ass dated Satoru after that!?”

“Well, he was sweet and asked me out. What’d you expect me to wait for you to figure it out?”

“Yes.” You both laugh softly then, his strokes up and down your spine making you long for more and more of him, every bit of his body, his touch, his heart.

“Three stories down, why don’t I…” You trail your fingers down his dress shirt, over his rippling abdomen. “Return that favor?”

“Killing me, brat.” He exhales, and soon you’re kissing in his elevator, as you ride up to his fancy penthouse, your breath catching at it. “Ya like?”

“Damn, you’re like rich!?”

Sukuna throws his head back, sliding his jacket off you then, eyeing your skin hungrily, thinking of all the ways he wants to kiss it, bite it, taste it. “Yeah, I’m fucking rich.”

“So humble too.”

“Why should I be? Fuck that.” He then hands you a glass of water, making your eyes narrow.

“Rich as fuck and I get water!?”

“It’s Evian.”

“Psh, where’s the liquor stash?”

He brushes your hair back then, gently. “Want you fully aware for the last two stories, yeah? Then you can have another if you want.”

“Yes, dad.” You tease, then his nostrils flare, making your lips turn up as you watch his reaction. “You like to be called Daddy don’t ya, freaky Kuna?”

Sukuna’s scowl just deepens, as he crosses his arms. “Oh shut that mouth, swear to god.”

“Shut me up- mnh!” Sukuna’s grabbed you right under your chin, squeezing your throat just so, as his free hand grips your ass.

“You listen to this one, I’ll let you suck me. And the last one, I’ll finally lick that pretty pussy.” You whine when he finds your slick heat over your panties, everything going just a little fuzzy. “Fuck you in positions you’ve never heard of.”

“All talk.” He lets you go, shaking his head, kissing you deeply again, you are falling into it, into how good he feels, letting it all surround you.

“Ya know I’m not, admit it.”

“Shush.” You take your water with a shaky hand, drinking it then.

“Good girl.”

Good girl!?

You can’t handle that from him, can’t handle the heat pouring between your thighs, in your tummy, making you ache for him more and more. “This story was about a time you didn’t have water, and you were all over me.”

You draw a blank then, shaking your head. “Psh, what!?”

“Mmhmm. Come, sit down.” He guides you over to an elegant living room, with a spacious black couch, everything sleek and modern, floor to ceiling windows overlooking the night sky.

“Beautiful.” You murmur softly, touching the clear glass for just a moment, he comes up behind you, kissing across your neck.

“I’ll fuck you on this window, let everyone have a show.”

“What!?”

“Let ‘em know you’re mine this time.”

“Sukuna!” You are dragged to the couch, sat down right next to him, his arm around you.

“Sip more water. So thirsty.”

“I really hate you.”

“You say that…”

“Yeah.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, pressing his lips over yours over and over, little sweet kisses you don’t expect. “Mmm, so… remember your first frat party?”

“Barely! Oh shit I think I got drunk.”

“Oh yeah you did.

*****

The fourth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your senior year HS, his Freshman year college (Kuna age 19, Y/N age 18)

“Y’know… S-Sukuna… fuck you’re kinda hot!?” You’re stumbling as you speak to Sukuna that night, dressed in some mini skirt and crop top, showing everything. You make him furious, showing that body that seems to get prettier every year, the top showcasing far too much of your pretty breasts, the skirt showing too much of your sexy thighs.

Thighs he’d die to have wrapped around his head.

“What now, brat?” He demands, and you giggle, clearly shitfaced, you never partied so you’re an insane lightweight. And your friend is currently making out in a corner, leaving you stumbling over to him in heels that make no sense for you, for the girl he’s known so long. “What’s with the skank fit?”

“Fuck you I’m hot.” You giggle, doing a spin, and then nearly falling, Sukuna catches you with an arm around your waist, warm body pressed against his.

“That alcohol spiking that confidence?”

“Jus’ because you don’t think- m’hot doesn’t mean… m’not k?” You toss down your drink, giggling breathlessly, looking up at him with dilated eyes.

“When have I said you’re not?” He asks softly, guiding you away from the crowd, from the eyes of too many hungry frat boys. You somehow end up on his lap, arms around his neck, giggling and scrunching that cute ass nose of yours.

“You’ve said m’pretty like once. In middle school? Thass it, Kuna.”

“God, don’t call me that, drunky.” He brushes your hair back then, and you pause, inhaling just a bit, sudden clarity in a brief drunk haze. “You’re the prettiest brat there is, yeah? You’re gonna forget this. So fuck it.”

“The prettiest brat?” You repeat, and he smiles, nodding, before hissing when you shift, straddling him.

“The fuck are you doing!?” He demands, hands pressing on your waist, while you lean your face low, breath against his lips.

“Jus- wanna kiss. Or more… always wanted you to be-”

“Shh, stop.” He puts a hand on your mouth, shaking his head. “You’re shitfaced, don’t go saying dumb shit.”

You lick at his palm, giggling again, moving your hips, he feels your heat against his cock over his jeans, making him throb then. He was no virgin, far from it, but you make him blush. You make him tremble, and he hates this effect, that you so casually have, and don’t even know you possess.

Since he met you, you’ve done things to him, things that have him jerking it to images of you, memories of you. Practicing all the ways he’d take that virginity of yours back in the day, knowing he was a fucking idiot. Thinking of how he’s stretch that surely tight little hole, how he’s make you his.

But you dated boys, he dated girls.

You lived your life in your lane, he lived his.

You both rarely crossed, aside from your friendship with his brother and mutual friends, he doesn’t think he’d see you. He barely does now, and the way you’re looking at him addles his mind, short circuits his brain chemistry. God the things he wants to do with you…

But…

“You’re trashed.”

“I’m pretty to you.” You murmur, lips far too close, he can practically taste jello shots on you.

“You are.” He figures fuck it, what’s it matter?

You won’t remember.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, finally, after so many years, and you blink rapidly, sobering up almost it seemed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks as they lower, as you take a breath.

“You think so?” You whisper.

“I know so, fuck who doesn’t?” He holds you still when you wiggle. “Don’t fucking do that, please.”

“Don’t wanna fuck me, Kuna? Don’t you fuck whoever?”

“Fuck you…” He trails off. Fucking you isn’t what he’d do, and he damn well knows it too well.

He’d lose himself in you.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, hmm?” He asks, husky voice breaking.

“What do you think?” You grind on him, his head falls back, moaning as you kiss up his throat, making his hands grip you bruising. “Haven’t I wanted to for s’long, Kuna… wanted y’inside me…”

“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves at you again, ruby eyes narrowing as he looks at your flushed cheeks and glittery eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So you need to get home. Nobara.” She looks up at the shout of her name, eyes wide when she sees you, gently pulling you now.

“Come on baby.”

“No, he wants me, look at him.” You giggle again, and Nobara can’t stop the smirk on her face.

“He does, but… you’re too tired, yeah?” You look at her, then Sukuna, yawning then and nodding as she eases you up.

“Am I?”

“You are. Say goodnight, remember you can’t stand Sukuna, yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You blink again, stumbling against your friend, Sukuna’s hand cups your face gently.

“Good night, drunk brat.” He kisses your head, shocking you even in your drunk state, before looking at Nobara. “Got a ride?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Sukuna…” She whispers then.

“Hmm?”

“Just let her go if you don’t want to be with her. She deserves more than this… pining away for you.” Sukuna gulps at Nobara’s words.

“I…”

“She’s amazing, you know.”

“Yeah, I fucking know. Trust me.” She sighs, as you snuggle to her, blissfully unaware of the conversation, just mumbling how good Nobara smells.

“She wants to go to another university, but she’ll go here to see you. Let. Her. Go.” Sukuna watches you stumble away, feeling it like a knife to his chest.

God it was difficult to let you go, but were you wasting your chances for someone like him?

*****

“I literally don’t remember it…” You murmur softly then, while Sukuna’s fingers run lazily over your shoulders, sipping more water. “I think I remember sitting on your lap but it’s a blur?”

“Yeah, it was… hard…”

You’re laughing then. “Sorry!”

“Hard in many ways, sure. To turn this down?” You heat up under his praise now, so open for you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Look at you.” You’re kissing him then, again, you could just keep kissing Sukuna, forever and ever you feel like. Like nothing could rip you from him, when you’re straddling his lap like that night, and he’s exhaling against your lips.

“What was the thing you should’ve said?” You whisper, rolling your hips, grinding your pussy on his shaft, he groans, kissing down the plump curve of your breast, sinking his teeth and making your head fall back.

“I did say it…” He grins, looking at the little teeth marks in your skin.

“Wh-what was it?”

“That you’re beautiful, and fuck you are.” You whimper when he yanks down your top, revealing your puffy nipples, taut and perky with want. “Oh my… fuck…”

He’s sucking one into his hot mouth now, your hands entangled in pastel locks, hips rocking for more and more, he’s dying to sink into you, and you’re dying for him to fill you. “Thank you, Kuna… and… did I say anything that…”

“You kept saying how hot I am.”

“You are, fuck you are. Sexiest man I’ve seen.”

“Damn, simp much?”

“Hate you!” You shove at him and he’s chuckling, kissing back down your breasts, sighing.

“You don’t hate me, shut it. Should we put that mouth to better fucking use?” He asks, and you nod eagerly. “You’re gonna obey that easily? Want it so bad?”

“Oh fuck you and your stories.” You slip down, one knee on one side of him, as you unzip him slowly, he hisses when his cock juts out of the jeans, of his boxers, so heavy and thick. You pause briefly, blushing when you see it, a tattoo around the base of his fucking cock, and a piercing on the tip.

“Cat got your tongue, slut?”

“Slut? You have a slutty tattoo on your slutty dick. And this? This…” You moan then, kneeling between his thighs spread, looking up at him so pretty then his heart flips in his chest, he’s as nervous if not more than he was when he was a virgin. Looking how beautiful you are, face resting on his thigh.

“Then put this slutty cock in your slutty mouth, huh?” You eagerly do as he says, taking him into your mouth slowly, teasing the piercing with your tongue, tasting his precum, salty and bitter, coating your tastebuds. “Mmgh, yeah, like that, pretty little whore.”

His words really should infuriate you, but you love it, jerking his hips up as you suck harder, faster, feeling his hands tighten in your hair, and god he’s losing his fucking mind, and it’s all because of you.

You love it, love the way he’s looking at you with lidded ruby eyes, as he fucks up into your mouth, alternating between gently cupping your cheek and shoving your throat down on his cock, all while looking at you. His eyes never leave your face, you hear his breaths, feel him tense. It’s intoxicating, feeling his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, feeling his eyes on you, watching you take him deep.

“So pretty, look at you, taking cock s’good. S’hungry for it, huh?” He’s mumbling now, trying to be so sure, so dominating of you, and he does, but he’s vulnerable, as your little fingers press against his thighs, as you’re sucking him so deeply. You breathe through your nose, feeling him get harder, impossibly harder, as you take him more and more.

Your cunt is pulsing around nothing, thinking of everything you’ve wanted, listening to him mumbling praise, watching that red streak from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To make Sukuna blush was something so heady you couldn’t explain it, not as you keep sucking, as you slip his dress shirt up just a bit, revealing the hard, perfect planes of his abdomen.

“Fuck, you’re good at that, hmm?” He whispers, his eyes half lidded, his voice gruff and rough, so fucking sexy, and you moan around his cock, nodding. He’s so fucking big and it’s a struggle to take him all in, but you’re keep trying to, go even deeper, watching his breath hitch, his hips buck upwards. He keeps whispering your name until he yanks you off.

“Lemme suck you off, Kuna.” You plead, and he laughs insanely now, shaking his head as he looks down at you.

“Ya gotta be that good at this!? I’m mad you ever sucked anyone.” He grumbles, glaring now, you pout as he pulls you off, hands firm on your ass when he sits you back on him, and now he’s adjusting himself back in.

“Really!? Not another story, Kuna… I need to tell you my own shit.” You murmur, he puts a finger to your lips, shaking his head.

“I’m almost done, last story yeah? Then…” He rubs your cunt over your panties, so damp they’re sticking to your plump lips pathetically. “Then I’ll make her feel so fucking good, so good I promise.”

“You suck.” You say with a pout, earning another smirk as you try to catch your breath, leaning back against him. “Okay, one more, and only one.”

“You’re such a little-”

“Kuna…”

“A little… pretty ass bitchy ass-”

“Sukuna, I swear to god I’ll hit you.”

“Yeah?” He raises a brow.

“You’re a little bitch.”

“Swear to-”

“I should go.”

“You aren’t going any fucking where. C’mere.” He yanks you back down, as you huff in anger. “I’ll give her what she needs, have some patience. All fuckin night and day, just wait a little longer, huh?”

“F-fine.” You look down demurely, as Sukuna sighs, shutting his eyes.

“The last time we saw each other. Remember?”

“Shit…”

*****

The fifth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your Sophomore year of college, his Junior (Kuna 21, Y/N 20)

You weren’t even in the same college as Sukuna, but you still saw him, from time to time. You were close with Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, and that meant sometimes seeing Sukuna, a girl on either side of him as he’s throwing pong balls into cups, and everyone is cheering for him.

Jock Sukuna.

Frat leader Sukuna.

Asshole hoe ass Sukuna.

You resent him, you hate it but you do, he’s popular and still somehow a huge asshole, he hasn’t changed a damn bit and people fawned over him, girls were all lining up for their turn, all except you. You’re glad you went to a different university, even if you missed your friends, it means you got to miss him being such a whore blatantly in front of the world.

He kissed one, then the other, like they’re both his girlfriends, chuckling until he catches sight of you.

You.

You make his heart race, wanting to thump right out of his fucking chest, tightening it so bad he can’t breathe for a moment. You’re in this gorgeous little dress, too fancy and pretty for some stupid ass frat party. He watches the eyes of everyone on you avidly as you smile, starting to get surrounded by his curious frat brothers, making his murder instincts kick into high gear.

When would everyone figure out you’re his? Shit, when would either of you figure it out, that this is what it was?

That he was in love with you.

That he’s been in love with you, since the first day you ran into the hall, over ten years back, when you’d had hurt in your eyes and your lower lip trembled. Loved you every minute of every day, and every day he falls deeper and deeper into being an idiot, drowning you away with cheap beer and endless annoying girls. Girls he couldn’t care less about, but they were safe bets.

They weren’t you.

Your eyes catch his across the room, sipping on your drink then, smiling up as your friends come to talk to you. Sukuna has maybe seen you three times this entire year, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t miss, god he misses picking on you, he misses that scowl you give him, the way you cross your arms.

He leaves the girls next to him, much to their dismay, walking up to you now, and your lips part as your drink sits just a bit down by your side, looking up at him with eyes that haunt his every fucking dream. Your body looks so good he can’t help but picture it naked in every position under him, while he says your name softly.

“Hey, Sukuna.” You manage to sound casual, while he’s shirtless, his already chiseled body buffer than you remember, tattoos already on his abdomen and wrists, ones that weren’t there before, that just make him sexier.

Fuck Sukuna.

Fuck him for being all you think about even now, when you have college, a part time job, a whole life. And you lay there, and think of him, picture him in ways that make you touch yourself, not knowing he’s jerking it in his dorm room to you, sometimes simultaneously, but of course neither of you has figured any of it out.

Clueless.

“You should… play?” He suggests, your brows draw together in confusion.

“Why are you being friendly?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You sigh then, shaking your head and walking away, making his jaw clench. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” You stomp away, and Sukuna chases you, into a room now, shutting the door behind you, you peek around and realize you’re somehow in his room when you see the familiar things you’ve seen his whole life. His game system, his guitar… his collection of panties? “Jesus.”

“Yeah it’s a thing we do.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, and you shake your head, turning to look up at him.

“Does it make you feel cool? Fucking the cheerleading squad?”

“Maybe it does. What do you care!?”

“I don’t.”

“Good.” He says.

“Good.” You agree, then you’re on each other, kissing each other hungrily, his hands gripping your ass, as you drink his moans.

“Why do you gotta act like this?”

“Like what, not easy?” You whisper, pulling back, and he groans, down on his knees suddenly, making you gasp, as he’s just a breath away from your hot, eager little pussy, lifting your skirt and moaning when he sees the damp spot. “What… are…”

“Lemme finally shut you the fuck up, brat.” He whispers, yanking them to the side just as the door tumbles open, you jerk back so fast as giggling girls pour in. “Don’t… get off me, fuck.” He’s shouting your name, chasing you, but you can’t get out of there fast enough.

What were you about to do!?

“Come back, fuck!” He’s yanking you by your wrist, and you scowl up at him. “Just let me… we’ll get a room, or…”

“No, thank god they came in. I’m an idiot, I have been. Down to be a notch in your stupid bedpost.”

“You’d never be-”

“Good bye Sukuna.” You leave him with watery eyes and a trembling lip, and he hates you more.

*****

You both sit there, staring at each other then, quietly, so much left unsaid over so many years, so much between you both. Your breaths make both of your chests rise and fall, while you wait with bated breath, feeling every bit of his energy consuming you, still tasting him on your lips, his pants still unzipped, your dress still tugging down your breasts just so.

“I was harsh.”

“Nah, you were real with me.”

“What did you want to say, then?” You ask quietly, and Sukuna curses, standing then, walking you back more and more until your shoulder blades hit the cool glass of his window, and you gasp, looking up at him. His gaze is hungry, it’s intense, looking right through you, seeing you. All of you.

“What I should have said, so many times… is that… I fucking love you, okay? In love with you. Stupid in love. Down bad like a little bitch.”

“What!?”

“You really couldn’t fucking tell!?”

You try to process his words, shaking your head now, tears welling up as the emotions hit you. “Like… in love?”

“Didn’t I say it, brat? Ya want some one knee shit, it’ll be eating your pussy, like I should have that night.” He murmurs, and soon he’s kissing you, hungry, desperate, hands touching every inch of you he can. “Love you, brat. Always have.”

“Sukuna…”

“Shh.” He turns you then, unzipping your dress, big hands darting across your back, your waist, your hips, turning you then to face him, leaving you in nothing but soaked panties and a lacy bra. “Should’ve told you, I love you. You’re beautiful, so beautiful you fucking wreck me.”

“Kuna…” He’s moaning again, red eyes bright as he rips your bra off, revealing your pretty breasts to his hungry gaze, cupping them, resting his forehead on yours.

“I was a fucking ass to you, a dick. A bully. A shit.”

“Kuna…”

“Shut up. You don’t have to feel the same, it can just be a fuck if you want, I’ll give you anything.” You’re whimpering, when he’s kneeling, just like that night, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when he runs calloused fingers down your soft skin, eliciting a cry. “I’ll let you fuck my face and thank you, make me so pathetic.”

“Sukuna!” You shout finally, yanking at his hair, pulling his head back to look at you, and he exhales now.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too, you idiot.” He pauses, heart slamming in his chest, and you just nod weakly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, mean ass.”

“Fuck…” He rips your panties off.

“They’re expensive!”

“I’ll buy you all the ones you want, slutty fucking brat. Put this pretty pussy on my goddamn face, now.” He orders, lifting a thigh, swiping a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, making you scream out, head falling back against the window he’s so shamelessly eating you out against. “Taste so goddamn good, fuck you.”

“F-fuck you, Kuna… just… will you… ah!” He smacks your pussy then, glaring up at you, as you manage a little pathetic scowl.

“Shut it brat, now. Lemme take my time, shit.” He’s back down there, parting your plump lips, dying at just how pretty your pussy is, how the wetness is just oozing. He sips up the syrupy wetness with the tip of his tongue, moaning at your taste, before slipping up to your clit, slowly circling.

“Mnph!” You’re barely able to make a noise, when Sukuna buries his face against you, nose bumping your little twitchy clit, tongue slipping up into your hole, as his hands squish your thighs, pinning you in place. “Ah!”

You feel that grin against you as he sips you up, drinking you, youre eyes are rolling, back, fucking toes curling as he nips your clit then with his sharp teeth, eliciting a slutty moan from your throat. “That’s it, cum all over m’face, slutty lil fuckin brat.”

You can’t even retort, you can’t function when his tongue is flicking the underside of your clit, and he’s watching you with those bright red eyes under those pastel lashes, working you so well you can barely stand. You’re gasping, gripping his hair so hard you’re pulling it, only making his cock harder for you, your eyes shut when you earn another wet smack on your cunt.

“Ah-ah,look at me when I’m eating you out, brat. I wanna see you fall apart f’me, just me, only me.” Sukuna’s possessive words and another smack earn you looking down at him, eyes locking with his. “Ha, that’s it.”

His tongue is flicking and pressing against your clit, when he curls two fingers up inside your gummy walls, cum drooling down his black painted nails, all the way to his rolex watch, cold against your heated skin as he pumps and pumps. “M’gonna… oh my g-god…”

“That’s it, cum like a pretty lil’ fuckin whore, hmm? Just f’me.” He orders, filthy words spitting from his mouth when he curls his fingers just so inside your soppy little cunt, and you shatter then as he works you like he’s always known you, sucking your little clit in his hot mouth.

“Kuna!” You scream out his name as you come, thighs trembling around his neck, eyes rolling back in your skull, panting when he fucks you with his fingers even faster, pushing you from one orgasm into another. “Too much!”

He doesn’t relent, he’s fingering and devouring you simultaneously until you’re a weak, pathetic mess, sweat making your hair stick to your brow, you’re trembling and shaking as it makes you see stars. You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, he’s got an arm around your hips, moaning against you.

“Sukuna, I l-love you.” You mumble weakly, and he chuckles, tickling your oversensive cunt.

“I know you do, baby.” He whispers back, kissing your inner thigh, licking your pussy clean of all your cum before he stands, and you’re taking off his dress shirt with shaky fingers, so shaky he smacks at them. “Can’t even function huh?”

“F-fuck off…” You can’t function, though, you can’t form a coherent thought in an already fucked out brain as he rips off that damn shirt, showing a buff, perfect body, littered in new tattoos you haven’t even seen. He’s quick to get naked, and pick you right up in his arms like you’re nothing. “H-here!?”

“Everyone already got a show.” He smirks, tip nudging your soppy entrance, you’re shivering as you cling to his shoulders, whining desperately. “Wanna give em a better show? Want everyone to see you dripping my cum?”

“Yes.” At your husky admission he grins.

“Slutty little brat. Oh my… fuck…” He can’t take it, when he starts to press inside you, and you’re screaming out at the stretch, as he feels your slick cunt grip him like a vise. “You’re s-so f-fucking…”

“Fuck me, please, please.” You beg, tears in your eyes now, and Sukuna won’t deny you shit, not when you’re begging so pretty, no he fucks into you, hard, thrusting his cock so deep his tip kisses your cervix. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god.” He moans right with you, exhaling as he looks into your glassy, dilated eyes, so dilated all he sees are the outer rings of your irises when he sinks so deep in your eager pussy. “Ya feel like this, the whole time could’ve been putting babies in this?”

“Kuna!? The f- y-yes! Yes!” You’re screaming as he pounds his cock, so thick it’s stretching you out so hard it hurts, it burns, wearing you down with each pump, the sounds of your slutty cunt echoing in his immaculate fucking penthouse. You’re cumming before he can play with your clit, something that’s never happened, he hits so hard you don’t even need it.

When you cum, pulsing all around him he tenses, pulling then, setting you on the floor and turning you, pressing your tits against the glass as he bends down, lifting your ass up and fucking into you, your hands leaving prints on spotless glass. He’s moaning as his muscles flex, as he pumps his thick, long cock so deep, and you’re throwing your head back, screaming.

“That’s it, again baby, lemme feel your slutty fucking cunt grip me.” He huffs, leaning over the glass and fucking into you, two hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, as he rails you harder and harder. You’re gasping, twitching, unable to even stand, practically falling on the glass overlooking the night sky.

When Sukuna’s gotten another orgasm, he pulls out again, carrying you like you’re nothing until you’re in his bed, and he’s climbing on top of you, so intimate in this moment, cock drooling with your drippy wetness. He’s entwining a hand with yours, the other grabbing his cock, putting it back inside, your already sore little hole, and you gasp, clinging to him.

“S’good… s’good I…” You can’t form a word, when he’s pressing your thighs up higher and higher, watching the bulge in your tummy at his huge cock wrecking you, making him harder, his precum pouring, cock twitching.

“That’s it, cunt screamin’ just f’me, fuckin’ hear it huh?” Sukuna whispers, eyes and face practically feral, fucking you harder, deeper, as he presses your thighs until you’re folded in half under him. “Answer me, huh? Too fucked out?”

“F-fuck… y-you… K-Kuna you- yes!” You’re whimpering out when he pounds his cock even deeper, and you hear it, the squelching wetness of your soaking cunt, the slap of his balls on your ass, as his face drips sweat right down onto your own, and you’re crying it feels so good.

“Crying sexy!? Is anything ya do not sexy… slutty brat… swear I’ll ruin you for fuckin anyone, yeah?” You just nod weakly, sniffling when Sukuna cups your face between his huge hands, pounding deeper and deeper in your hole, and he’s finally slowing, laughing. “Milking me?”

“Whass that… Kuna…” Your words are jumbled as the man you’ve loved forever beats your poor little cunt up, as he fucks velvety walls until they’re aching, rubbing your walls so good, hitting just that fucking spot, over and over, ridge of that drooly tip sending you.

“That’s it, can’t help yourself, can you? So pathetic, c-can’t stop cummin…” He’s huffing now, leaning over you, so big and strong you feel so damn tiny under him, his power, the way he moves, the way he fucks you like he owns your pussy.

“Ngh…” You can’t speak anymore, it’s all sounds, whines, whimpers.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, gonna be dripping me for days huh? Want me to, don’t ya brat?” He holds your thighs up so high you could hardly breathe, as he works your cunt harder, grinding against you when his tip bruises your cervix. “Answer me, now, use those words.”

“Fill me, please.” You whisper, and he moans, smirking then, leaning so that his lips are a breath away.

“Want me to breed that slutty pussy?”

“Yes.” Sukuna folds then, busting so deep in your cunt, filling you to the brim with his endless spurts of hot cum, until you can’t stand it, so hot and full, you feel Sukuna fucking everywhere. He’s still pumping now, kissing you, moaning his pleasure as your thighs shake against him.

“That’s it, taking it so good aren’t ya baby? Cunt so eager. Slutty.” You just nod weakly, and he laughs. “That's how I shut you up? Could have been doing it.”

“You love my mouth.” You counter, earning his chuckle, when he finally eases your thighs down, kissing you just a bit softer, your nails that have been pressing and leaving marks on his back relaxes now, as you both breathe together, slower and slower.

“I do love it.”

“You love me.”

“Don’t get too annoying about it.” You giggle, and he adores the way your nose scrunches. “Fucking cute.”

“Yeah?” He nods, finally admitting it, what’s been in his heart so long he doesn’t know how he handled it, the lightness he feels of you knowing is so amazing he can’t put it in words.

“Yeah.” Is all he says for now, kissing you again. Soon he’s in the shower with you, ‘cleaning’ you, as he’s drinking your pussy right up on his knees, as the hot spray falls down.

Then, Sukuna is fucking you right on his shower wall, and you’re clinging to him desperately, as his cock works you in ways you could have never known. “Gonna forget anything, anyone, just me, brat.” He huffs in your ear.

Later, it’s no longer Valentine’s day, shit it’s maybe three am? But Sukuna isn’t done with your pussy, no he’s far from it, having you on your hands and knees on his bed as he fucks you, slapping your ass over and over, leaving hand prints. Then he’s prone bone over you, wrapping long fingers around your throat, squeezing as you gasp and cum all over his cock.

“Put a fuckin baby in ya, huh? Want that, don’t ya?” He’s huffing that morning, not like either of you have slept, and he’s laying behind you, you were supposed to cuddle but Sukuna has catching up to do with you, so he’s cradling you, fucking you with your one leg up over his thigh.

“Want it… want it…” You’re throwing your head back, while he’s fucking one load of cum out and pumping more into you, until you’re a sobbing mess, and Sukuna could still go, but you’re passing out, weak and snuggling him.

“You’re so… beautiful.” He whispers as you snore lightly, before rolling his eyes. “And annoying.”

“Hmm.” You mumble, when he shoves at you, and your eyes adjust to the man you’ve always loved, smiling just a little soft for a moment. “You love me.”

“Shut it brat. Stop snoring or I’ll kick you out.” You just giggle, kissing him.

“Shh. Love you Kuna.” You murmur, falling asleep on his chest, feeling for the first time in forever like the puzzle pieces have fallen together, and Sukuna watches you until his heavy eyes knock him out with you, snoring even louder than you. When you wake to him eating your pussy, all puffy and sore, you wonder just what you’re in for.

“Taste us, fuck.” He drinks you up, leaning over, spitting in your mouth then, you gasp at it, at his insane grin. “Taste s’yummy, huh?”

“How about g’morning, hmm?” You manage, coughing just a bit, and he’s nudging his broad shoulders back between your thighs.

“Nah, fuck that.” He buries his face against your pussy, your hands entangling in his messy locks, back arching.

“Please.” You whisper, soon he’s working over you, hand wrapping your throat, as he shoves that thick cock in your sore little pussy over and over, until you’re both losing the day in each other.

And that was the last time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same the entire time

taglist: @honeybunnnnie @allonyyourmom @moonlitwitchdaisy @baepsays @blue-musingss @yenayaps @sadrna @toge1numak1 @dreamingoftomorrow @witchyhobbitess @espresso1patronum @sukubusss @uhnosav @gojoscumslut @evelynxxo @averyjadedemerald @clp-84 @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis @waterfal-ling @benbarnesleftpinkytoe @silvarys @plehdhh @gina239 @dancingwithdeities @pinkpookiebear @lastsubstance @cuti3patooti8 @blueemochii @jijijihanji @ivyvenus333 @sunasgf1 @fushitoru @schlokki @msniks @plimplimmeiododoi Permatags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw @aldebrana @n1vi @miizuzu

Art in the banner is from WynnChan270 on Deviant art- if you find them on tumblr plz lmk so I can credit here! <3

If you enjoy I'd love to hear your thoughts I put a lot on this onnne

#jjk smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #divider by strangergraphics #sukuna x female reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fics #Valentine's fics #Jjk valentine's

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nerdlvr · 2 days ago

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"jisung- i want you." your voice was barely audible as you looked up at him, small hands gripping at the hem of his shirt.

he stared down at you in disbelief, arms awkwardly glued to his sides as he gulped, "w-wait actually- like you wanna sleep with me?"

you nodded shyly, cheeks a slight shade of pink as you turned your gaze away from him.

you were startled by his quickness, his hands moving down to grip your waist as he walked you towards the couch.

"yes, yes, yes- you have no idea- oh my- let me kiss you?" he settled you onto the couch, your body pressed gently against the cushions as he rested his weight on his knee, his body towering over yours.

"please- i haven't kissed someone in so long."

jisung felt his dick twitch against his pants, a small tingle running down his spine as you reached up towards his shoulders, your soft eyes meeting his.

"easy baby- i'll go slow."

he leaned down, lips a breath away from your, his hands tightly gripping the cushions around you, "if i lose it please- please just kick me or something i don't know if-" you pressed your lips against his, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him towards you.

the kiss was stiff, your lips awkwardly touching his. had it been that long since you kissed a guy? you dont remember it being this bad?

he parted from you, his soft chuckle filling the space between you two, "so impatient- follow my lead okay?"

you bit your lip embarrassment blooming in your chest, were you getting schooled by a 20 year old?

he brought his thumb down to tug at your bottom lip, your mouth parting slightly at the action.

you watched him mimic your face, his lips slightly parted as he looked towards your mouth, "these don't move so much-" he leaned down to plant a quick kiss on your bottom lip.

he smiled at the small whine you let out, your head tilting up to chase his lips.

"it's more about your tongue-" your eyes fluttered shut as his thumb slipped past your lips, the pad of his finger lightly rubbing against your wet muscle.

"use your tongue for me baby- let me see." his free hand let go of the cushion, instead moving down to rub light circles on your temple, "look at me- i need to see how you're feeling."

when you looked up he was staring straight at you, a small smile on his lips as he waited for your next move, "go on-"

you brought your hand up to wrap around his wrist, a small sigh leaving your lips as you began to swirl your tongue around his thumb.

"justt like that- good girl, you learn quick." he moved his thumb in time with your tongue, a slight smirk on his lips as he watched you play with his thumb.

"okay now with me-" he pulled his thumb out of your mouth, his head leaning down to bring your lips together, "stick your tongue out."

you complied with no hesitation, your tongue sticking out obediently for his use.

you let out a breath as he stuck his own tongue out, pressing it against yours before swirling it around your muscle. he brought his lips down to meet his tongue, sucking lightly on you before pushing your tongue back into your mouth.

you felt your body heat up as he licked into your mouth, your breaths hot as the feeling of him filled your senses.

the smell of his fresh detergent was in your nose, the feeling of his hands cupping your face, the sight of him fluttering his eyes shut as leaned further into you, the taste of his sweet spit mixing with yours, and the sound of your wet mouths mashing against each other.

in this moment you were consumed by everything jisung had, his body molding into yours as he pressed you deeper into the couch, his chest hot against yours.

your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to his soft groans, his desperation clear him the way his lips moved against yours in a frenzy, the spit from your mouths slipping past your lips.

and then you felt it- that cold pit in the depth of your stomach. a sudden chill running up your spine as you began to lose your breath.

keep going- don't embarass yourself- he's going to hate you- you can't stop now- you asked for this- remember when yuta-

"st-stop, stop-" you turned your head away from him, hands moving up to push at his chest, creating space between you two, "jisung i-"

you felt your chest tighten with worry, your eyes searching his face as you gripped onto his shirt, "jisung i'm sorry i-"

his eyes were soft as he looked towards you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he scanned your face, "are- are you okay?"

his hands remained on your face, thumbs slightly rubbing at your cheeks, "talk to me- what happened?"

you felt your breath stutter, a slight burn building in your throat as you looked into his worried eyes, "i'm sorry i-" your voice was strained, eyes beginning to water, "i'm scared."

it was barely a whisper, only a secret shared between the two of you. your cheeks felt hot under his gaze, lips slightly trembling as you held your breath.

"i'm here- hey- i'm here-" his hands slid behind your back, slightly tugging you towards him.

your grip was still tight against his shirt as he pulled you against his chest, lifting you slightly to lay on him as he fell back against the couch.

"what happened?" he brought his hands up to stroke your hair, his lips soft against your forehead.

"what if i can never lose my virginity?" you sniffled against his chest.

"hm, then you'll always stay a virgin i guess-" he let out a soft chuckle, confused by your question.

you shook your head, hand coming up to lightly slap his chest, "no- i mean like- doesn't that upset you?" you lifted your head to look at him, eyes puffy.

he brought his fingers down to rub at your eyes lightly, a warm smile on his lips, "not really? i guess i might feel kinda bad- cause you've given me all these girlfriend tips and i just- well i mean i guess i taught you to kiss- but i haven't really done anything for you-"

"jisung-"

"oh wow- wait this is kind of unfair- i haven't paid you and you've been talking to me and teaching me to deal with my crybaby girlfriend- please let me teach how to give a blowjob at least, or maybe like-"

"jisung wait-" you brought your finger up to his lips, effectively silencing his rant, "you've done more than enough for me- okay?"

he nodded slowly, his eyebrow raising in confusing, "o-okay? but-"

"i don't need to learn all that stuff anymore- yuta is just- i- i think i need to stop obsessing over the fact that i'm a virgin."

he laid back, his hands tight against your waist as he let out a sigh, "so you're saying you don't need me anymore- right?"

you hummed, hands never leaving the fabric of his shirt, "i mean- yeah-"

he shifted under you, fingers softly thrumming on your waist, "good. now when i fuck you i know it's gonna be cause you want me- not cause of some other idiot."

you raised you head to look at him again, a dumb smile on your face, "you're the biggest douche i've ever met- ah ah ah- no- no yuta jokes!"

you both laughed as you fell back against his chest, warmth spreading along your bodies, "one yuta joke and i'll shut up forever okay?"

you shook your head, "you're such an idiot."

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com ~ 17. stood up and applauded

previous ~ masterlist ~ next

notes : haha silly writer loves to make relationships messy and nonsensical so that she can create later misunderstanding and conflict haha

taglist : @bunniin , @neverbeurs , @fakeuwus , @natokkiz , @222brainrot , @mystverse , @sk8mrk , @ksywoo , @snowyseungs , @nislost , @nosungluv , @jae-n0 , @peterm4rker , @livingdoll-hara , @doejaejung , @tommina , @413ktz , @aerivrs , @cyjzzl , @dolleyedgirl , @nneteyamss , @mrkleelvr , @4chensungs , @nctrawberries , @multifandomania , @catpjimin , @dudekiss3r , @yuujiswrld , @slayhaechan , @catdonut657 , @kodasity , @ohwowzersthatscool , @byeonwooseokabs , @hyucksunset , @rksbae , @hyucktion , @lionzyon , @baobeii55 , @jakesbubu , @axo-l0tl , @sunghoonsgfreal , @strawberrysavi , @hyunjungjae , @kookssecret , @babrieeee , @defzcl , @sikuthealien

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beaniebaneenie · 2 days ago

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If y'all think there will still be free and fair midterms, you're kidding yourselves.

If you think for one second that he is going to EVER willingly walk away from the oval office, when just a couple weeks ago, a judge explicitly stated that it was ONLY the power and office of the presidency that was keeping his orange ass out of jail?

I have a bridge in New York that I'd like to sell you.

For those of you playing the Home Game, we are HERE.

GOP has all three branches, and I'd say we're going to get some form of Enabling Act within the next 12 months.

The American people are pretty comfy in their knowledge that presidents can only be president for 8 years tops. That wasn't a law until after FDR though.

Before then, it was literally just "respect for George Washington" and "tradition" that kept people ending their terms then. Now, this country needed a solid base of leadership through WW2, which is why FDR broke the tradition and ran again. And again. He was also a very good president and won by huge margins.

But if you think that Trump is going to peaceably and happily just waltz out at the end of 4 years because "the law says I can't be president anymore", then you haven't been paying attention or are willfully deluded.

This man has already attempted a coup once. And received zero punishment or consequences for it. He WILL try again. And he will not wait another four years to do it.

Things are going to be bad, and get ugly fast.

Cultural and political "norms" and expectations are going to be discarded with extreme prejudice. The propaganda is going to be INTENSE.

Hell, just scroll up on this post. Cheeto spent years saying he was going to get rid of tiktok and how horrible it was- and now even the fucking app is thanking him for being the one who "saved" it, less than 24 hours later.

And if you know anything about government, and how long it takes to get anything done, you will realize that this was fucking planned.

And it was absolutely an attempt to get young folks thinking he's cool and hip and that he's "saved" their free speech, and "saved" their rent by continuing their access to the app that pays their rent. It's propaganda to make him the hero in their eyes.

And with places like Facebook banning fact-checking, it's going to be even worse.

Find independent news sources. Triple check information. If you see something hinky, ask yourself, "who benefits if I believe this?" and "who does this version of events serve, who does it demonize?"

Now is the time to fight back with absolutely everything.

Trump is probably going to remove the TikTok ban shortly after his inauguration and secure a chunk of the youth vote.

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jhyoos · 3 days ago

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Of Roses And Steel

chapter one : where roses bloom

knight sevika x princess reader

mentions : royalty au, medieval au, romance, strong reader (as in combat and intelligence), silco is king, reader is a heavy daddy’s girl, silco being soft around her daughter, sevika is only 5 years older than you, major character deaths, very long first chapter !

notes : let me know if you guys like the small text or should I go back to bigger words. another chapter will be released tomorrow!

↳ next chapter

The night of the queen’s death remained seared into your memory like a jagged scar, a moment that altered the course of your life—and the kingdom—forever.

Your mother had always been the kingdom’s heart, her kindness radiating like the sun, touching the lives of every villager, knight, and noble. She possessed an innate gift for seeing the good in people, even when they couldn't see it in themselves. When she had married your father, her warmth had melted away the rougher edges of Silco, a man who was once feared for his ruthlessness.

Before her, Silco’s reign had been efficient but cold, his focus solely on maintaining power and expanding the kingdom's borders. But with the queen by his side, something shifted. She softened him, guiding him to rule with compassion as well as strength. Under her influence, roads were built, trade flourished, and the kingdom prospered. When you were born, the union of their love, Silco seemed to find an even deeper purpose. He adored you from the moment he held you in his arms, his mismatched eyes filled with awe.

“She’s perfect,” he’d whispered to the queen, who smiled through her exhaustion. “Just like her mother.”

Your early years were filled with laughter and warmth. Your mother would sing to you in the mornings while brushing your hair, and Silco, despite his busy schedule, would often sneak away from his duties to spend time with you. He read you bedtime stories, his deep voice weaving tales of adventure and bravery. You were his reason to rule with integrity, his reminder that the kingdom’s future depended on more than power—it depended on love.

But everything changed the day your mother decided to visit the village alone.

You were six years old, clinging to her skirts as she prepared to leave.

“Must you go?” you asked, your voice small and pleading.

She knelt before you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I must,” she said gently. “The children in the village are sick, and they need help. But I won’t be long, my love. I’ll be back before the sun sets.”

She kissed your forehead, her smile warm and reassuring, and then she was gone. You spent the rest of the day waiting by the window, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky.

When the sun finally set and she had not returned, unease settled over the castle like a heavy fog. It was Sevika—then a young squire barely in her teens—who came running into the throne room with the news. Her face was pale, her breath coming in short gasps as she fell to one knee before Silco.

“Your Majesty,” she said, her voice trembling. “There’s been… an attack. The queen—she—”

Silco rose from his throne, his voice cutting through her stammering like a blade. “What happened?”

“She was ambushed,” Sevika managed, her hands clenched into fists. “A group of thieves—they didn’t know who she was. She fought back, but…” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

Silco didn’t need her to. The look in his eyes was enough to send a shiver through the room, a mix of fury and anguish so profound it was almost unbearable to witness. He left the throne room without another word, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall.

The days that followed were marked by grief and silence. Silco locked himself away, emerging only for the queen’s funeral. You remembered the way he stood by her casket, his shoulders rigid, his mismatched eyes devoid of the warmth they once held. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse but steady.

“She was too good for this world,” he said, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face. “But I will ensure her legacy lives on.”

He turned his focus to you, doubling down on his efforts to keep you safe. Guards followed you everywhere, even within the castle walls. He forbade you from going into the village, insisting it was too dangerous. His love became suffocating, a cage built from his fear of losing you as he had lost her.

You grew up under the shadow of that fear, but you refused to let it define you. Determined to honor your mother’s memory, you threw yourself into your studies, mastering everything from diplomacy to combat. Your father disapproved of your training, insisting that the daughter of a king had no need for swords or bows. But you persisted, finding solace in the discipline and focus it required.

It wasn’t until you were sixteen that you truly began to make a name for yourself among the knights. One of the senior knights, impressed by your determination, arranged for you to train with Sevika, who had recently returned to the castle after years spent serving on the borders.

Sevika was in her early twenties then, already gaining a reputation as a skilled and fearless warrior. She had a scar running down the side of her face, a mark of the battle that had earned her the rank of head knight. She rarely spoke, her focus entirely on her duties, but when she did, her words carried weight.

Your first session with her was a turning point. She showed you how to hold a bow, correcting your posture and guiding your hands with a gruff patience you hadn’t expected. “Don’t overthink it,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Just breathe and let the arrow fly.”

For a brief moment, you saw a softer side of her, a flicker of something almost kind beneath her stoic exterior. It was enough to make your heart flutter, a feeling you didn’t entirely understand at the time.

From then on, your crush on Sevika only grew, fueled by fleeting moments of warmth amidst her cold professionalism. She was everything you admired: strong, capable, and unyielding. But she was also distant, her loyalty to your father a wall you doubted you’d ever be able to breach.

You were every bit the spoiled princess, and you made no apologies for it. Your wardrobe was filled with the finest gowns in silks, satins, and velvets, each more extravagant than the last. Shoes adorned with delicate embroidery and shimmering jewels lined your chambers, matched meticulously to every ensemble. The maids who styled your hair each morning knew your tastes well—tight curls for formal occasions, elegant braids when you ventured to court, and soft waves for quiet evenings spent reading in your chambers. It was a life of luxury and ease, one that you embraced wholeheartedly.

Your favorite moments, however, were the hours spent with your ladies-in-waiting. Gathered in the sunlit parlor, the scent of freshly brewed tea mingling with the fragrance of blooming flowers, you would sit for hours, gossiping and laughing with your closest confidantes. Together, you exchanged stories, whispered secrets, and speculated about the various knights, courtiers, and even the visiting nobility. You didn’t shy away from discussing the beauty of the women who graced the castle halls, often causing a ripple of giggles among your companions when your admiration turned bold.

Through it all, there was one secret you kept entirely to yourself: your growing infatuation with Sevika. It wasn’t the kind of crush you could casually admit during tea or in the middle of idle chatter. Sevika’s cold professionalism and the unyielding strength she displayed as the head knight made her a figure of both admiration and intimidation. Her rare moments of warmth toward you—brief, fleeting instances where she adjusted your grip on a bow or gave a quiet word of approval—were treasures you tucked away in your heart, replaying them long after they passed.

But secrets have a way of surfacing, and yours was no exception. One lazy afternoon, as Mel helped you reorganize your chambers, she discovered a bundle of papers hidden beneath your bed. They were scraps of poetry and unsent letters, scrawled confessions of your feelings for Sevika. Mel’s gasp of surprise as she read them turned your blood cold. You tried to snatch them away, but it was too late—she knew. Her teasing smirk was almost unbearable as she leaned against your bedpost, waving the papers at you.

“Sevika?” she drawled, one perfectly arched brow lifting in amusement. “You’re in love with her?” Mel, ever the quick-witted daughter of a noblewoman, didn’t let you live it down easily. Though she was sworn to secrecy, she took great delight in teasing you about your unspoken feelings, often poking fun at how flustered you became whenever Sevika was nearby. Despite your embarrassment, there was a part of you that found comfort in sharing your secret with someone, even if Mel’s constant smirking made you regret it at times.

The dining hall was bathed in warm candlelight, the long table laden with golden platters of roasted meats, fruits, and delicacies from across the kingdom. Laughter and chatter filled the room, and for a brief moment, everything felt peaceful. You sat at your father’s right hand, the place of honor, dressed in a gown of soft lavender silk. The fabric shimmered with each movement, the embroidery catching the flickering light. Around you, nobles toasted to victories, knights traded boasts, and your ladies-in-waiting whispered behind their hands, no doubt commenting on which of the lords appeared most eligible.

You entertained their murmurs with a polite smile, but your focus drifted to the heavy doors of the hall. You noticed them before they opened, as if instinctively sensing Sevika’s arrival. She stepped inside, her boots echoing against the stone floor. She wasn’t in her usual armor but a simpler, dark tunic and breeches, though her presence alone was as commanding as any battle regalia. She moved with purpose, her scarred face set in a grim line.

“Sevika,” Silco called, his voice cutting through the noise. The room fell silent as she approached the king, bowing her head slightly.

“Apologies for the interruption, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice low but carrying easily through the hall. “There’s news from the gates.”

The room seemed to hold its breath. Silco’s eyes narrowed, his wineglass forgotten in his hand. “Speak.”

“The monsters at the borders are escalating their attacks,” Sevika began. “They’re not just striking in waves anymore. It’s constant now. The knights are struggling to keep them contained, and we’re losing ground. Reports suggest their numbers are too great for our current defenses.”

A murmur rippled through the assembled nobles. Silco’s grip on his goblet tightened before he set it down with a sharp clink. “And the commanders? Have they devised a solution?”

Sevika hesitated, her silence answering for her. Finally, she said, “No. They’re holding the line, but we’re losing too many. We need to regroup and rethink our approach.”

Silco’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the chandelier above. Then, decisively, he pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll go to the gates myself. I need to see this for myself and consult with the commanders directly.”

You didn’t think—you simply acted. Rising from your seat as Silco and Sevika left the dining hall, you followed them into the dimly lit corridor. Your silk skirts swished as you hurried after them, your jeweled slippers clicking softly against the stone floor. You reached the shadows just in time to overhear Silco’s voice.

“I’ll leave at dawn with the first battalion,” he said. “The reports alone aren’t enough. If this is as dire as it seems, I need to see it myself. There’s no room for error.”

“Understood,” Sevika replied. “But it’s a risk. The journey to the walls is dangerous, especially with the creatures lurking along the roads.”

“I’ll take that risk,” Silco said firmly. “The kingdom’s stability depends on it. If we don’t act now, there won’t be a kingdom left to protect.”

“Father!” Your voice rang out before you could stop yourself. They turned, surprise flashing across Silco’s face before his expression hardened.

“This doesn’t concern you,” he said, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“It concerns me when you’re talking about putting yourself in danger,” you countered, stepping closer. “You can’t just leave. What if something happens to you?”

Silco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t up for debate, child. I need to go. I won’t make the same mistakes as before by sitting idle.”

Your chest tightened, and the memory of your mother’s final words hit you like a blade. “The last time someone told me they’d come back, they didn’t,” you said, your voice breaking. “She promised me, and she never came home. How can you ask me to watch you walk out that same door and pretend it’s fine?”

Silco’s expression softened, though the steel in his resolve remained. He placed a hand on your shoulder, his mismatched eyes meeting yours. “I understand your fear,” he said quietly. “But I have a duty to this kingdom—and to you. If I don’t go, the threat will only grow worse. You’re stronger than you think, and I’ll return. I promise.”

Before you could respond, Sevika stepped forward, her presence grounding the moment. “He’s right,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “Your father’s not reckless. He’ll have me and the best knights in the kingdom with him. You don’t need to worry.”

Her words, though meant to reassure, did little to ease the ache in your chest. You looked between them, fighting the tears welling in your eyes. Finally, you nodded, though the knot of unease remained.

As they turned to leave, you stood alone in the corridor, your hands clenched at your sides. The weight of their footsteps faded, leaving only the faint flicker of torchlight and the hollow echo of your thoughts.

The next morning, you woke to the sound of hurried footsteps and quiet murmurs just beyond your door. The servants were already at work, preparing for your father’s departure. Their shuffling echoed in the hallway as they polished the portraits, hung banners in the kingdom’s colors, and arranged the grand send-off for the king. A knot formed in your chest as the realization settled—he was really leaving.

When your maids entered, they didn’t need to speak to know you were already awake. They moved with gentle precision, draping you in a gown of deep crimson, black, and silver. The silk hugged your frame, the silver embroidery catching the faint morning light. Your hair was styled intricately, each strand woven into a braid that they adorned with silver pins shaped like roses. They murmured compliments, but you barely heard them, your thoughts elsewhere.

As soon as they were done, you hurried to the throne room, your stomach twisting with each step. When you entered, the sight of your father nearly stole your breath.

Silco stood at the base of his throne, dressed in armor that seemed more fitting for a king from a storybook than the man you’d grown up with. The polished silver breastplate bore the royal crest, its sharp lines gleaming under the golden light of the chandeliers. A long crimson cape hung from his shoulders, draping elegantly to the floor. At his side rested a sword with a gilded hilt, its weight a reminder of the battle he was about to face.

You didn’t speak at first, your throat tight with the effort to hold yourself together. But when he saw you, his expression softened. For just a moment, the weight of his responsibility lifted, and he looked at you not as a king but as a father.

You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him in a fierce embrace. He stiffened, surprised, before his arms came around you, holding you as tightly as you held him. His armor was cold against your cheek, but you didn’t care.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “be safe. I love you, Father.”

His grip tightened, his hand brushing the back of your head. “I love you too,” he said, his voice low and filled with something you rarely heard—uncertainty. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his mismatched eyes searching your face. “You’ve grown so much,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Every time I look at you, I see your mother. Her strength, her heart… I hope you know how proud I am of you.”

Your throat burned as tears welled in your eyes. “Then don’t go,” you pleaded softly, your voice breaking. “Please, Father. I can’t lose you, too. I can’t…”

He cupped your face with one hand, his calloused thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “I have to, my love,” he said, his voice steady despite the sorrow in his eyes. “This kingdom needs me. And more than that, it needs you. You’re stronger than you think—you always have been.”

His words were meant to reassure you, but they only made the ache in your chest worse. “Promise me,” you whispered. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was lingering, full of the unspoken things he couldn’t bring himself to say. “You’ll see me again before you know it.”

You nodded, though the doubt remained, and reluctantly let him go. As he stepped back, you noticed Sevika standing near the doorway, watching the exchange silently.

You crossed the room to her, your steps hesitant but determined. She straightened when you approached, her expression unreadable.

“I need you to promise me,” you said, your voice firmer now, though your heart still raced. “Promise me you’ll bring him back safe.”

Sevika’s brow furrowed slightly, her usual coldness faltering for a moment. “I promise,” she said simply, her tone calm and even.

You narrowed your eyes, stepping closer until you could see the faint scar on her cheek. “No, Sevika. I’m being serious. I know you just see me as some spoiled princess, but I’m not. He’s all I have. Promise me for real.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced briefly at your hand as it reached for hers. The warmth of your touch seemed to catch her off guard. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—something unspoken.

“I’ll protect him with my life, your highness,” Sevika said, her voice quieter this time. “He’ll come back. You have my word.”

You held her gaze for a long moment, searching for any sign of insincerity. But there was none. Finally, you let her hand go, your heart still heavy but steadied by her promise. As she turned to join your father, you watched them walk away, the ache in your chest growing with each step they took.

For now, all you could do was trust—and wait.

Days turned into weeks, each one heavier than the last as you anxiously awaited your father’s return. The castle felt hollow in his absence, the echo of his authoritative voice replaced by an unnerving silence that no amount of bustling servants or lively courtiers could fill. You tried to busy yourself with your routine, but nothing seemed to dull the ache in your chest.

Mel did her best to distract you, her endless ideas for entertainment failing to ease your worry. She often led you to the gardens, coaxing you to admire the blooming roses or walk among the neat hedgerows. She’d chatter about trivial things—her mother’s letters, the latest gossip among the ladies-in-waiting, or the prospect of an upcoming festival—but her words felt distant, like a hum in the background.

On some days, she’d take you to the nearby lake, where you’d lounge by a small boat anchored at the shore. The gentle lapping of the water against the wood, the songs of birds in the trees, and even Mel’s attempts to make you laugh with exaggerated tales of court drama couldn’t pull you from your thoughts. You were miserable.

The anxiety seeped into your nights, turning them restless. You woke more often than not in cold sweats, the remnants of nightmares clinging to you like a suffocating shroud. Dreams of your father not returning—or worse—haunted your sleep, leaving you too afraid to close your eyes again. You’d toss and turn, clutching the heavy blankets as though they could shield you from your fears.

It wasn’t long before you could no longer bear being alone at night. Mel, ever loyal, started sharing your bed, her presence offering a sliver of comfort. She’d hold your hand or hum softly, her voice lulling you into uneasy sleep. But even with her there, the nights felt unbearably long, and the ache in your chest only grew.

You missed your father. His commanding presence, his sharp words that were always tinged with an undercurrent of affection. No matter how stern he could be, he was your anchor, and his absence left you adrift.

And, though you hated to admit it, you missed Sevika too. Her presence lingered in your mind like a ghost. Even though her words were often clipped and dismissive, there had been something in the way she spoke to you that lit a fire within you. A rare spark of interest, a momentary pause that felt like a flicker of attention just for you.

Her aloofness only made her more enigmatic, her sharp gaze and blunt demeanor stirring feelings that you didn’t quite understand. You replayed your interactions with her over and over in your mind, from the sarcastic comments to the way she’d adjust your posture during archery. It wasn’t much, but to you, it was enough.

It was foolish to feel this way, you told yourself. She was the head knight, loyal to your father and bound by duty. She likely thought of you as nothing more than the king’s spoiled daughter, another responsibility on her long list of obligations.

And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Each day that passed felt heavier than the last, the weight of your longing for both your father and Sevika pressing down on you. You clung to the hope that their return would bring relief, but until then, you were left to endure the suffocating stillness of the castle and the ache that refused to fade.

Mel, ever persistent in her attempts to lift your spirits, decided that simply resting by the lake was no longer enough. She wanted to give you a moment of true peace, something that might soothe the restlessness in your soul. With a few words to the castle staff, she arranged for a servant to row one of the small boats onto the still waters of the lake.

When the boat was ready, she guided you down to the shore. The late afternoon sun bathed the lake in a soft, golden glow, and the air was filled with the gentle hum of dragonflies and the occasional splash of fish breaking the surface. The sight was tranquil, almost idyllic, but your heart was still heavy.

Mel helped you onto the boat, her steady hand ensuring you didn’t slip on the polished wooden planks. You settled onto the cushioned seat, and as the boat pushed off from the shore, the rhythmic sound of the oars dipping into the water began to lull you into a state of calm.

You leaned against the edge of the boat, resting your head on your folded arm. The water was cool beneath your fingertips as you let your hand trail lazily through it, brushing against the occasional lily pad that floated by. The gentle sway of the boat and the soft rippling of the water were almost hypnotic. For the first time in weeks, you felt a fleeting sense of tranquility.

“If my father and Sevika come back…” you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy on your tongue, like a confession you hadn’t intended to make. You glanced at your reflection in the water, your face distorted by the ripples. “I’ll actually obey him... and I’ll confess to Sevika about my feelings for her.”

The admission hung in the air, a vulnerable truth you hadn’t even fully admitted to yourself before.

Mel, sitting beside you, turned to look at you. Her usual sharp wit and playful banter were absent as she took in the sincerity of your words. After a moment, she smiled softly, a flicker of warmth and understanding in her expression.

“We’ll see about that, Your Majesty,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of skepticism.

You turned your head slightly to glance at her, catching the faint curve of her lips and the knowing glint in her eye. She didn’t press you further, didn’t tease or pry as she usually might. Instead, she simply leaned back in her seat, allowing you the space to lose yourself in your thoughts.

As the boat glided across the lake, the silence between you was comfortable. Mel’s presence was steady, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t entirely alone in your longing or your fears.

For now, you could allow yourself to hope.

The following week arrived quietly, marked by the same monotony that had filled the days since your father left. You were seated by your vanity, your servant brushing your hair in slow, careful strokes. The rhythmic tug of the bristles on your scalp was almost lulling, but your mind was elsewhere.

Then, a sound shattered the quiet—faint but unmistakable. The trumpets of the king’s arrival.

Your heart leaped in your chest as you sat up straight, the brush slipping from your servant’s hand. “Your Highness?” they asked, startled.

But you didn’t answer. Without hesitation, you jumped to your feet and ran to your balcony, the cool morning air rushing to greet you as you flung open the doors. The grand stone entrance of the castle stretched below you, and there he was—your father, dismounting his horse in a flurry of movement.

As though sensing your presence, his gaze lifted to meet yours. His face softened instantly, a warm smile spreading across his features. He lifted a hand and waved to you, and you couldn’t stop the answering grin that broke across your face.

“Father!” you called out, your voice carrying down to him.

Without a second thought, you spun around and hurried back into your chambers, your bare feet sliding slightly on the polished floors as you moved. You quickly grabbed your slippers, slipping them on clumsily.

“Your Highness, you’re still in your sleepwear—” your servant began, her voice tinged with concern as she reached for you.

“I don’t care!” you called over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.

Your heart raced as you darted through the halls, the familiar corridors blurring past you in your excitement. The heavy stone walls seemed brighter, the tapestries more colorful, as if the castle itself had come alive with his return. The sound of your footsteps echoed off the marble staircase as you descended, nearly stumbling in your haste.

When you finally reached the entrance, your father was just stepping down from his horse, his gloved hands steady as he handed the reins to a nearby stable hand. His cloak billowed slightly in the breeze, his regal presence commanding the attention of everyone around him.

“Father!” you called again, your voice breaking slightly from your breathless sprint.

He turned toward you, his expression shifting from one of composure to pure, unrestrained joy. The moment his eyes met yours, his arms opened wide, and you didn’t hesitate for a second. You closed the distance between you, throwing yourself into his embrace.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. His grip was firm, steady, and warm, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“It feels like I’m seeing an angel,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and faint traces of ink from his correspondence. “I know... me too,” you replied, your voice muffled but no less sincere.

Silco finally pulled back from the embrace, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked you over, his sharp eyes softening with affection. “Have you been well, my daughter?” he asked, his voice steady yet tinged with concern.

You nodded, though you hesitated before answering. “Yes, Father. I’ve kept up with my studies and my training... though I missed you terribly,” you admitted, your voice faltering slightly at the end.

His expression softened further, and he cupped your cheek with a gloved hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I missed you as well. It was far too long to be away from my only child.”

As he spoke, you noticed the weight of exhaustion in his features—the faint lines of weariness etched into his face and the slight droop of his shoulders. Yet even so, there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he looked at you.

He stepped back, his posture straightening as he addressed not just you but the attendants and soldiers gathering around. His voice carried, commanding attention with its authority.

“My soldiers and I have returned victorious,” he announced, his tone filled with the subtle pride of a ruler who demanded respect but did not flaunt his power unnecessarily. “And such a triumph deserves celebration.”

Your heart skipped slightly at his words, and you couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips.

Silco continued, his gaze sweeping over the gathered servants and knights. “A feast will be held tonight in the Great Hall. Let it be a night of joy and gratitude for our success and the safety of our kingdom.”

The attendants and soldiers murmured their approval, the quiet hum of excitement rippling through the crowd.

He turned back to you, his expression softer once again. “And you, my child, will be at my side as the kingdom celebrates.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” you replied, your voice steady despite the excitement bubbling within you.

“Good,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But first, you’ll need to prepare. I expect you to look every bit the queen you are destined to be. I trust Mel will see to it?”

You nodded quickly. “She will, Father. I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

“Good,” Silco repeated, placing a hand on your shoulder briefly before turning to his steward to give further instructions about the preparations.

As the crowd began to disperse, Sevika stepped forward, her ever-stoic presence now standing close behind your father. Her sharp eyes glanced over you briefly before she addressed Silco. “I’ll ensure the knights are ready for the evening, Your Majesty,” she said, her tone curt and professional.

Silco nodded in approval, but before Sevika could leave, his gaze shifted back to you. “Sevika, see that my daughter gets back to her chambers safely. She shouldn’t be running through the halls like that again.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sevika replied without hesitation.

Your father gave you one last affectionate glance before turning back to his advisors, leaving you standing there with Sevika.

“You heard him,” Sevika said gruffly, her tone laced with the usual edge of authority. “Let’s get you back to your chambers. Can’t have you causing another scene.”

You rolled your eyes slightly but complied, following her as she led the way back into the castle. Despite her sharp words, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing she was there, her towering presence a reminder of both your safety and... something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.

As you and Sevika made your way back through the dimly lit halls of the castle, the cool stone beneath your feet and the drafty corridors sent a shiver down your spine. Without a word, Sevika unclasped her cloak and draped it around your shoulders, the heavy fabric engulfing you in warmth. Her movements were brisk and efficient, as if she had done this a hundred times before, yet the gesture left your cheeks warm in a way that had nothing to do with the cloak itself.

“Thank you,” you murmured, clutching the edges of the cloak tightly around yourself. The faint scent of leather and smoke lingered on the fabric, unmistakably hers.

Sevika gave a short nod, her gaze fixed ahead as the two of you continued walking. The rhythmic clink of her armor filled the silence, but your mind was elsewhere. You kept stealing glances at her, your heart thudding harder with each one. You wanted to speak, to finally confess the feelings you had held onto for so long. The words were right there, resting on the tip of your tongue.

But before you could summon the courage to open your mouth, Sevika’s voice cut through the silence, low and steady.

“Don’t run out in your nightgown again,” she said gruffly, not bothering to glance your way. “It’s quite transparent in the right lighting.”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening as her words sank in. The warmth in your cheeks flared into a full blush, spreading down your neck as you quickly looked away, your hands instinctively tugging the cloak tighter around your body.

“I-I wasn’t thinking,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to see my father.”

Sevika finally glanced at you, her sharp eyes briefly scanning your flustered expression before she huffed a soft, almost amused sigh. “That much was obvious.”

You felt your stomach twist with embarrassment, but there was something in her tone—a faint trace of humor, perhaps—that eased the sting of her bluntness.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you muttered, your gaze fixed firmly on the stone floor as you walked.

“See that you do,” Sevika replied, her voice returning to its usual sternness. “You may be the king’s daughter, but you’re not above common sense.”

Her words stung, but there was no malice in them, only the no-nonsense practicality that defined her. Still, your heart ached as you realized how far away your confession still felt. How could you possibly tell someone like her—so composed, so seemingly unimpressed by you—what you truly felt?

As you neared your chambers, the weight of the unspoken words pressed heavily on your chest. For now, you would settle for the warmth of her cloak and the fleeting moments of attention she gave you, even if they were laced with sternness.

The feast was a spectacle of grandeur. With Mel and a team of diligent servants, you were adorned in your finest jewels, your hair styled to perfection, and the shimmering gown hugging your frame like it was made of starlight itself. The dress—delicate and intricate, like spun silver—glittered under the candlelight, catching every flicker and transforming it into magic. The translucent layers of the fabric hugged your silhouette, leaving just enough to the imagination while maintaining an air of regality.

Mel circled you with a satisfied smile, tucking one final lock of hair into place. “If Sevika doesn’t fall for you tonight,” she teased, “she must be made of stone.”

You swatted her arm lightly but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. With a deep breath, you stepped out into the party, your heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor as you entered the grand ballroom.

The hall was alive with music, laughter, and clinking glasses. The party was far too large for the dining hall, so the grand ballroom served as the perfect venue. Guests danced beneath glittering chandeliers, their movements synchronized to the lively tunes of the string quartet. You and your ladies joined in, swirling through the dance floor in familiar patterns, your laughter mixing with the music.

You’d had two glasses of wine by then—an indulgence you rarely allowed yourself—and it left you feeling warm and light. Your inhibitions melted away, and you let yourself be swept up in the joy of the moment.

That was when you saw her.

Sevika stood near the edge of the ballroom, her tall frame unmistakable even among the most decorated soldiers. Her usual rugged attire was transformed, enhanced with gold detailing that caught the light in flashes of brilliance. Her armor had been polished to a mirror finish, and though her expression remained stoic, she looked breathtakingly regal.

Your gaze lingered, and Mel—ever observant—caught on immediately. She grabbed your wrist, pulling you from the dancing circle with a knowing grin. “Now’s your chance,” she whispered.

You hesitated, your heart racing. “I don’t know, Mel.”

“What if you don’t see her again? What if she leaves for a mission and never comes back?”

The weight of her words struck you, and you turned to look at Sevika again. She was speaking with someone, her stern profile illuminated by the golden light of the chandeliers. Mel was right—you couldn’t waste this moment.

With a deep breath, you smoothed your gown and made your way toward her, weaving through the crowd. When you reached her, you placed a tentative hand on her arm, causing her to turn and look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I speak to you somewhere privately?” you asked softly.

Sevika’s brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded, following you out of the ballroom and into one of the quieter hallways.

The hallway felt like it was closing in around you, the flickering sconces casting fleeting light on Sevika’s armor. Her stern expression was unreadable, and her imposing frame seemed even more unyielding in the dim corridor. Still, you gathered every ounce of courage you could muster. This was your moment, and you couldn’t let it slip away, no matter how heavy the weight of her cold demeanor felt.

You hesitated, the stem of the wine glass trembling in your grip as you tried to muster the courage to speak. She didn’t move, her arms crossed over her chest, waiting. Always waiting, as if the weight of your words was little more than an inconvenience.

"Well?" she said flatly, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "If you dragged me away from the ball for this, I suggest you make it quick."

“I’ve held this in for too long,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter, that you don’t matter.”

Sevika’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing, her silence more oppressive than any words could be. You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I love you, Sevika,” you said, your voice cracking under the weight of your confession. “I’ve loved you for years.”

For a moment, her mask slipped. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—surprise, uncertainty, maybe even longing. It was so fleeting you almost doubted you’d seen it at all. But it gave you the courage to close the distance between you, to take her face in your hands.

She didn’t pull away. Her body tensed under your touch, but she remained rooted in place, her breathing shallow and uneven. It was enough. You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was as much a plea as it was a confession.

For a fleeting moment, she kissed you back. Her lips were hesitant, but warm, and you felt a spark—something you’d only ever dreamed of. It was like the world had stopped, and in that heartbeat, everything else ceased to matter.

But just as quickly, it was over. Sevika’s hands came up, gripping your wrists firmly as she pulled away. The space between you felt like a chasm, and the cold air rushed in where her warmth had been.

“No.” Her voice was sharp, almost a growl. She let go of your wrists, and you staggered back, staring at her in disbelief.

“Sevika—” you started, your voice cracking with desperation.

“Don’t,” she snapped, cutting you off. Her expression was hard, her eyes blazing with something you couldn’t place—anger, regret, pain. “This… whatever this is, it can’t happen. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” you demanded, tears welling in your eyes. “Why are you doing this? I know you feel something for me. I know you do!”

“Because you’re nothing but a spoiled little girl who doesn’t understand the world she lives in,” Sevika snapped, her tone cold and biting. Her eyes bored into yours, unyielding and merciless. “You think this is some fairy tale where you confess your feelings, and everything falls into place. But that’s not how life works. I serve your father. I protect this kingdom. That is my duty. Not indulging the childish fantasies of a princess who doesn’t know the meaning of sacrifice.”

Her words were a dagger, each one sinking deeper into your chest. You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The tears you’d been fighting spilled over, streaking your cheeks as you stared at her, your heart breaking with every second that passed.

Sevika’s gaze softened for the briefest moment, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the cold mask she always wore. She took a step back, putting more distance between you. “Forget this ever happened,” she said, her voice flat. “And stop chasing after things that aren’t meant for you.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her heavy boots echoing down the corridor. You stood there, frozen, as the weight of her rejection pressed down on you. The air felt colder now, the once-grand gown that adorned you suddenly feeling suffocating, like a cage meant to keep you trapped in a world where you could never truly be free.

You slid down the wall, your knees giving out beneath you as you buried your face in your hands. The sound of the ballroom felt even further away now, and for the first time in your life, you wished you could disappear completely.

Mel stepped into the hall, her steps echoing through the quiet corridors of the castle. She froze when she saw you, sitting on the cold stone floor, your body trembling with sobs. The sight of you, usually so composed, crumbled in such a vulnerable state, sent a pang of concern through her chest. “(Y/N)?” she called out softly, her voice filled with both worry and warmth.

Between the heavy breaths, you managed to choke out the words, “She said she didn’t love me back… she called me childish,” your voice breaking as the weight of the rejection hung in the air like a thick, suffocating fog.

Mel's heart ached at the sound of your pain. Without a second thought, she hurried to your side, kneeling down beside you. Her hands gently touched your arms, offering a quiet comfort as she whispered, “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

With surprising strength, Mel helped you to your feet, supporting your wobbly legs as you struggled to calm the tears that refused to stop. Her presence was grounding, a steady reassurance in the storm of your emotions. As the two of you walked slowly back toward your chambers, Mel kept a steady hand on your back, guiding you through the castle’s labyrinth of halls.

The comforting silence between you both was interrupted only by the occasional sniffle from you, as you struggled to regain some composure. Mel didn’t say anything more. She knew there was nothing to say—at least not yet. She just wanted to get you somewhere safe, where you could break down if you needed to, without the prying eyes of the castle around you.

taglist: @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @bunninel @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @athena-winters13 (😝) @inlovewithsevikaandambessa

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onlinedolly · 2 days ago

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cw: gilf leon, pseudo-incest, p in v, large age gap, mentions of toys, creepy leon to be for real, mentions of cum

great uncle!leon wasn’t technically blood related. the thought made you feel better as you chewed slowly around a family dinner, watching your grandfathers ex partner (from the force) out of the corner of your eye. he laughed along with something your mother said, sipping the whisky in his glass before he made eye contact with you. all knowing, all encompassing, eye contact paired with a raised brow, that made you stop in your tracks. the tension, the awkwardness that you had no one else to blame for, felt murky in the air.

but it was hard not to think about it, especially when he looked at you like he knew exactly what you were reflecting on. see, before now, infact several weeks before now, leon had cornered you at a pool side family get together to welcome you back into town for the summer. leon had started a seemingly normal conversation about how you were, how grown up you’d gotten, how he’d gotten divorced a couple months ago. it all felt normal, like any other family member would talk to another that they hadn’t seen in a while.

but then leon had mentioned you bathing suit, how flattering the color looked wet against your skin. and maybe, though you’d never really agree to it, you’d notice that despite all the grey hair and crows feet that remained present at the corners of his eyes, it felt nice to get a compliment from someone who was as handsome as him. and you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t blood related. and granted you had quite a bit to drink tonight, so maybe it was easier to blame it on that then the way you felt when leon leaned in and placed a strong arm above your head on the wall behind you.

from there, it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing to work you into the guest bed that night. he thought that maybe you were just easy and honestly maybe you were, and a little desperate and a little drunk and maybe you’ve seen a photo or few from when he was younger and it would be easy to just imagine you were having sex with him 40 years ago. but when he manhandled you into the bed, talking about how your bathing suit didn’t leave much to the imagination, you didn’t really want to pretend it was him forty years ago. not when he took off his shirt and his chest was covered in grey hairs, or when he slipped a thick ring clad finger inside of you, or when he pressed his body so hard into yours, legs spread next to your head, as he pounded into yours ruthlessly. there was some sick perversion that liked being fucked by someone so much older then you. someone so close to the family it’d be like fucking your grandfather.

so of course it kept you crawling back, the night after that and the night after that and the nights that followed as you let him take you however best suited him. over the kitchen island in front of the window facing the street, against the wall next to his front door because he couldn’t wait that long, even in your grandfathers bed (and that time he made sure to cum deep inside you, mumbling about how if only your grandpa could see this). he was as insatiable as you, you taught him to facetime so you could spread your cunt wide for him on the days he couldn’t fuck you like you needed, sent him daily photos of yourself in your gifted lingerie sets(from leon) with your gifted(also from leon) toys vibrating inside of you.

which led you back to here, leon watching your every move as you shifted in your seat. he could tell you were more then likely soaked and that’s when he decides to press the little button in his pocket. the button that makes you jerk forward and apologize as you plates and silverware clatter around. the vibration hit you instantly and hard. leon wasn’t a gentle lover, he had a lot of experience and that was evident when he pushed the vibrator inside of you and told you to mind yourself at dinner. it was hard when he turned the vibration on full blast unexpectedly, enough to make your legs shake under the table as he keeps a steady conversation with you grandfather. he wasn’t paying you any mind now, the only acknowledgement of you being the remote he kept using to switch it back from high to low settings. he knew what he was doing, working you to your edge before pulling you away from it. it was going to be a long excruciating dinner.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #tw.dark content #like is gilf leon dark content idk #resident evil smut #resident evil leon #resident evil #⚡️ resident evil

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themultifanshipper · 21 hours ago

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It was a lot of fun, being persued by by two Formula 1 drivers.

But they would soon be getting tired of the chase. They weren't going to let you stay ahead of them for much longer.

Warnings: smut, finally bottom franco, technically a threesome but not really, restraints (belt), edging, shower sex, anal (mxm), face fucking, tension?

Anon originally had an idea with journalist reader but I went in another direction :3

The tension between you and Max had been brewing since your rookie year.

You'd instantly taken a liking to each other and hung out all the time whenever you had breaks.

You'd been on his yacht, he'd been to your family's vineyard for some wine tasting. You were good friends, and you knew each other exceedingly well.

And of course it wasn't rare for the two of you to find yourselves battling for positions on track, and even came together a couple of times over the years.

That lead to some pretty heated arguments, you even took a swing at him once. You were both hot-headed competitors, it was inevitable.

Nothing ever happened between you though, you'd always kept a sensible distance to your coworkers.

But you couldn't help being a tease.

You'd put sexy bikini pictures of yourself on holiday in your private story, which only Max had access to.

He figured it out pretty quickly when no one else seemed to know what the hell he was talking about when he asked them about it.

And then Franco arrived.

But he never pushed. If this was a game you wanted to play, he could wait it out, no problem. If you got desperate enough you would come crawling to him, he was sure of it.

Franco was the biggest flirt you'd ever seen. Surpassing the likes of Daniel and Carlos as the smoothest talker on the grid.

He was slightly closer to you in age, so you gravitated towards each other naturally.

You went on holiday with him a couple of times, and you went clubbing a lot.

So pretty soon the rumours shifted from you and Max, to you and Franco.

And there were pictures circulating. You and Max had had your fair share of paparazzi nuisances, but with Franco it was on another level.

It was impossible to see each other without photos coming out the next day.

Some were photoshopped, like the ones of you and him on your yacht, kissing.

Or at least that's what your PR team told the public.

You hadn't slept with him of course, but 4 glasses of wine is 4 glasses of wine.

That's 3 too many if you want to keep a clear head. And day drinking in the sun is a dangerous game when you're alone with a horny man on a yacht.

But you politely rejected his advances, insisting that your relationship was supposed to be professional.

Max saw the photos. Of course he did. And he knew they weren't fake, so the next time he saw you he confronted you.

Much to the chagrin of both of your bodies’ needs.

“So how's it going with Colapinto?” he asked, faking nonchalance while you waved to the fans at the drivers parade.

“Nothing's going on, don't be jealous” you plastered a fake smile on your face for the cameras.

“I'm not jealous” he snapped.

“Sure you aren't, Max. Anyway I keep my love life, and sex life, separate from my career, you know that”

He scoffed, turning away from you to talk to whoever was on his other side.

During the next week you decided to spice things up a little.

The race weekend went by without a hitch, and Max didn't bring it up again.

You sent Max a dirty picture.

Nothing too bad, just you in some lingerie and a see through robe that hid absolutely nothing.

You followed it up with “shit, that wasn't for you sorry”

If that didn't get Max riled up nothing would.

But to your disappointment, he didn't reply.

That night you got yourself off to Franco's answering texts instead. You sent the same picture with the same caption, and waited for him to take the bait.

The next weekend Max cornered you in the paddock on media day.

He’d played the game at least, sending you a delicious picture in return, in the name of fairness.

He dragged you to a quiet corner and caged you in against the wall.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” he hissed, pressing you against the wall.

“What the fuck Max! What are you even talking abou-”

“I'm not fucking stupid, I know that picture was for me”

You sighed.

“No it wasn't, Max”

“Who was it for, then?”

“Wouldn't you like to know” you smirked, which just made him angrier.

“Yes, I would actually”

You pushed him off roughly and he stumbled backwards, taken off guard by your sudden aggressiveness.

“None of your fucking business. And if you want to fuck me, this really isn't the right way to go about it”

The next day, lord knows how, Franco managed to sneak into your driver’s room.

You sauntered off, leaving Max to fume in silence at your audacity.

“I enjoyed that picture very much, you know” he mumbled as he approached you from behind.

He quickly plastered himself to your back, hands on your hips while he felt you up.

“I'm sure you did. But it was an accident” your voice shook as his hands wandered.

He chuckled. “I am not convinced of that”

He placed kisses along the side of your neck, trailing upwards towards your lips as he turned your head to look at him.

“Any chance I can see more?”

His lidded eyes bore into yours and you sighed, pushing him away half-heartedly.

“No Franco. I can't go around sleeping with my coworkers. It's not professional”

He smirked. “Not professional? Tell me, who was that picture for?”

You hesitated a second too long.

“You don't know him.”

He bit his lip mockingly, he knew you were lying. “Okay. I guess will just go then”

Max won the race. He was back on his A-game and you’d spent the second part of the race squabbling with Franco and Alex over 10th place for the last point.

And he did, he slipped out without anyone noticing him, leaving you to contemplate your next move.

You got it, at the expense of Franco's front wing.

“That was a dirty move” he groaned into your neck.

You'd found yourselves back in the same position, him grinding against your ass, this time in the club while the bass made your bodies thrum with excitement.

“If you want to get my attention, crashing into me isn't the right way to go about it”

You shivered, both at his tone and at the fact that you'd said almost exactly that to Max three days prior.

“Why would I want your attention?” you murmured back, enjoying the feeling of his hands caressing your body.

“Darling, we both know you want to fuck me”

You turned around in his hold, giving him the most seductive eyes you could muster.

“No I don't”

He groaned and threw his head back in frustration.

“Don't do this to me. We both want it, stop playing around and let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

You smiled and leaned in.

“But where's the fun in that?”

You removed his hands from you body and slinked back into the crowd.

What you didn't know is that Max was in the DJ booth with Lando, and with his vantage point he could see everything.

Running away, once again.

He saw you slip away through the crowd and over to the bar.

His blood boiled and he decided to take action.

But he didn't make his way to you. He went to see Franco instead.

“Mate I need to talk to you”

“Ok, mate” Franco was confused, but followed him towards the bathrooms anyway, where it was slightly quieter.

“Did she send you a picture of herself last week?” Max was going straight to point.

Franco hesitated. “Who?”

Max rolled his eyes at the younger man “You know who, don't play stupid”

The sudden thought that you might be in a relationship with Max flashed through Franco’s mind.

What if he'd read the situation all wrong? What if Max had found out about the flirting and was actually about to beat him up?

“No?” he answered, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

Max looked unimpressed.

“Give me your phone”

Franco complied immediately.

Max proceeded to scroll through his messages, and clicked on the conversation with you.

The picture of Franco appeared on his screen first, and he looked up at the man incredulously.

“You sent one back? It was obviously bait. Are you stupid?”

“I know it's all a game to her” he snatched his phone back “but playing it got me a very nice picture of her so who cares?”

“I'm not playing the game and I got the same fucking photo”

Franco frowned at his phone, and had to admit, he had him there. Maybe he had been stupid.

“Well… you keep not playing, and I will keep playing, and we will see who get her to break first?” he suggested.

“No” Max snapped. “I am sick of not playing”

He glanced at Franco's screen, where the photo of you was still visible.

They completely ignored you for two whole weeks.

“She has been teasing us for too long. Now it's time she learned her lesson”…

They avoided you at the weekend, and they never returned any of your calls and messages.

You even tried sending them more pictures, but they both left you on read.

You were bored.

You knew something was up when you spotted the two of them deep in conversation in front of the Redbull garage. They were plotting.

Max was pretty much your best friend on the grid, and you missed messing around with Franco.

So on Saturday night, you sent them both a text you knew they wouldn't be able to ignore.

Well Max might, but Franco would definitely crack.

To Franco, you sent “If you come and fuck me now, I won't tell Max”

And to Max, “If you come fuck me now, I won't tell Franco”

You sent them both your room number, and waited. They both saw the texts immediately.

Max had too much self control, so you doubted whether he would be desperate enough to show.

You waited barely 20 minutes before Franco was at your door.

But Franco…

He was so easy.

You had him on the bed, laying under you while you made your way down his body, picking off his clothing bit by bit.

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me”

His pupils were blown wide and a slight blush was creeping up his neck.

“The offer was too good to pass up” he groaned as you rubbed yourself over the bulge rapidly growing in his boxers.

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and roll you over.

“Your teasing has been driving me crazy” he panted, hovering over you while he made quick work of your clothes.

“Why do you think I was doing it” you muttered with a smile, and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he realised how much you'd been enjoying teasing him.

“To make me lose it and come fuck the shit out of you?” he asked, exasperated.

“That's the plan” you bit your lip, looking up at him with a smile.

“Perra” he groaned, sitting up. “Turn over”

You raised an eyebrow at him, doing as he said.

His hands were palming your ass while he admired the view, when a sharp knock at the door broke the tense silence.

Your jaw dropped as you looked back at Franco who was wearing a similar look of shock on his face.

Neither of you knew quite what to do, and the knock sounded again, louder this time.

You jumped to your feet, grabbing a robe on the way and opened the door.

Max stood there, fists clenched.

“Max…”

“Is Franco in there?”

You were taken aback by his question.

“And bear in mind, the answer is going to determine how this evening goes for you”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but was saved answering by Franco appearing next to you.

“I am here… sorry”

He looked slightly afraid, and it was understandable, because the grin that spread over Max's face was evil enough to scare even you.

“I had a feeling you would be here” he stepped inside, crowding against you as he slammed the door behind him. “Option number two, then”…

You didn't know what option number one was, but number two involved you having your hands tied to the headboard, while Max had his cock shoved down Franco's throat.

Which is not something you ever thought you would see.

But there Franco was, drooling around Max’s girth with red cheeks and tears in his eyes.

You knew he was enjoying it though, because he was still wearing his boxers and the wet patch at the front was getting steadily larger.

“Look at you” Max cooed “are you crying because you got caught betraying me just to get your dick wet?”

Franco whined, hips bucking at Max's tone.

“Or are you crying because you’re enjoying this a bit too much?”

Franco closed his eyes, more tears falling as he breathed deeply through his nose.

“You were fucking made for this. You've obviously had practice, slut ”

Franco whimpered pathetically and you throbbed at the sound.

You were fully naked, spread out for Max to admire.

“And you” he snapped at you. “You have been teasing me for years, making me wait, while posting pictures of yourself for my eyes only. Then this little bitch arrives and you let him touch you? Absolutely not”

He pulled out of Franco's mouth and manhandled him onto his hands and knees, facing you while Max dragged his boxers down his legs.

Franco's eyes widened as he looked at you, glancing between your thighs at where you were glistening in the soft light.

“You've been playing games with me since you joined the grid. And you would just let Franco have you after a couple of months? Over my dead fucking body”

He pushed Franco down onto the bed, making his arms buckle and his back arch obscenely, and the younger man gasped.

“So I'm going to fuck Franco, and you are going to watch.”

God knows where the bottle of lube came from, but you were grateful for it, on Franco's behalf.

The way Franco reacted when the first finger went it made you gasp softly.

His eyes fluttered closed and he arched his back even more, pushing back against Max as he let out a porn worthy whimper.

You were getting so turned on, you went to close your thighs but Max tutted.

“Franco, hold her legs open”

He obeyed, shuffled forwards and curled his hands around your knees to hold you in place.

Unfortunately, that brought his face closer to your soaked folds and you could feel his cool breath down there.

You whimpered and he groaned, leaning his head against one of your knees as he looked at your slick lips with a pained look on his face.

“Don't you dare touch, Franco” Max growled “You need to learn patience”

He was on three fingers already, and he was entranced by the way Franco's hole swallowed them greedily.

He made quick work of lubing himself up and pushing into the younger man, who mewled at the stretch.

“Jesus, you are tight.” He gritted his teeth as he pushed in to the hilt. “squeezing around me so good, maybe I should give up on her and just keep you as my plaything, hmm?”

He gave an experimental thrust and Franco whined low in his throat as he looked up at you through lidded eyes.

He looked so fucked out it was almost pathetic.

But to be honest, you probably looked even worse.

You squirmed against the bed, unable to get any sort of friction or stimulation as you were forced to watch Max rail Franco into the mattress.

“You're fucking dripping” Max commented, finally glancing at where you could indeed feel the sheets under you becoming damp.

He wrapped an arm around Franco's middle, shuffling him forwards until he was only an inch away from your soaked folds.

“You want a taste Franco?”

The younger man nodded as best he could with Max’s grip his hair.

Max just chuckled and pushed Franco's face forward, allowing him to eat you out hastily.

The sudden intense stimulation made you writhe under him, cursing as he sucked on your clit while his tongue delved into your wetness.

“Fuck! Oh my god-“ you whined, hips trying to buck but Franco's hold on your thighs was too strong as he devoured you.

As your moans increased in pitch, Max could tell you were getting closer and just as you were about to fall over the precipice, he pulled Franco's head back roughly.

You cried out at the loss, and Max just chuckled, slamming his hips into Franco even harder.

“Max please” you whined, and Max cooed in mock simpathy.

He pushed Franco against you once again, revelling in the way he tightened around his cock at being manhandled like this.

He angled his hips so that his cock pushed against Franco's prostate, and the vibrations of the resounding moan against your cunt got you right to the edge once again.

But again, when Max saw your thighs start to tremble, he pulled on Franco's hair to separate him from you.

Tears clung to your lashes as you were robbed of yet another orgasm, and Franco let out a loud moan.

“I'm gonna come, Max!” he cried, and Max just picked up the pace of his hips.

“Then come, I'm not stopping you”

Once Franco had come down from his mind-numbing orgasm, Max pulled out of him carefully and rolled him over, making sure to avoid the puddle of cum now in the middle of the bed.

Franco's eyes rolled back and his upper body slumped against the mattress as Max continued to pound into him while you watched helplessly.

“You can go now, I will take it from here” he muttered as he handed Franco his clothes.

You looked at Max.

He looked at you on his way out, sending you a kiss before the door slammed shut behind him.

He was making his way around the bed to come and untie you from the headboard.

You weren't quite sure what to say to him as you stretched your arms.

He walked into to the bathroom and turned the shower on, then poked his head around the doorway.

“Come and join me”

You got off the bed hesitantly.

Was that it? Were you going to take a shower and then he’d leave? Or stay with you and talk?

You weren't sure which option you hated more.

You got to the bathroom and he was already under the water, cleaning himself without a care in the world.

You approached him, putting an hand on his shoulder.

“Max? Are you angry with me?”

He huffed out a laugh.

“No, why would I be angry?”

He kept washing himself, and you had no idea what to answer.

He had every right to be pissed after all.

He looked at your confused face and chuckled.

“No, I am not angry with you”

You nodded, and he moved over a bit and pulled you under the spray.

He pulled you against his chest and looked down at you.

“I'm not angry, but I am sick of your games”

You gulped.

You could feel him against your hip, he was still hard.

“You didn't come” you muttered, and he smiled.

“Neither did you”

Your heart was beating fast as you stared at him.

“Are you planning to?”

He nodded.

“Oh yes. But you have a choice to make. Either I fuck you now, and we both come.”

His hand came to cup your jaw as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Or, I leave right now, and you’ll never get to know how good you could've had it these past two years.”

Your jaw dropped, and your cunt throbbed at the idea of finally getting to fuck Max.

“Well?” his other hand trailed downwards to ghost over your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, to confirm that you were still soaked. “What will it be?”

You gasped, head leaning back against the tiles of the shower wall.

“Fuck me, please”

He grinned. “That's what I was hoping for”

He wasted no time turning you around and pushing into you roughly, your wetness easing the slide as he bottomed out on the first thrust.

You both groaned, and he snapped his hips, determined to hear that noise again.

He made you come twice like that, pressed against the shower wall as he took the frustration of the past two years out on you.

He did indeed make you regret not giving in to him sooner.

Later, in bed, you cuddled together after having changed the sheets.

“So tell me Max. If tying me up and fucking Franco in front of me was option number two… what was option number one if Franco hadn't been here?”

He chuckled, pulling you tighter against him.

“If you had been alone, I would have tied you to the bed and left you there alone"

You gasped.

“and Franco?”

“I would have fucked him anyway, to congratulate him for not giving in to you”

You went silent. Thank god for Franco’s weak will.

“Can I fuck him?" you asked "I really want to"

Max nuzzled into your neck and nipped at your skin.

“Of course. As long as I can keep fucking you, I don’t really care”

You hummed and turned your head, looking into his deep blue eyes.

“Sounds good to me”

He smiled, giving you a quick kiss before laying his head back on the pillow.

“Me too”

You giggled sleepily.

Just like you planned.

You had your best friend back, and two men were at your beck and call.

#my thots #franco thots #max thots #max verstappen #franco colapinto #max verstappen smut #franco colapinto smut #max verstappen x reader #franco colapinto x reader #max verstappen x franco colapinto #f1 #formula 1 #request

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snakesafraidtodie · 3 days ago

Text

Danny was done. The heroes of this dimension had been arguing over what to "do" with him ever since they found out the Ghost King was a 'child'.

Some were arguing that he be placed with the other young heroes on the kiddie team of this world so that he could have "a support network" and "safety net to mature." Others claimed that they couldn't keep a kid away from his home dimension so they should instead find a way to free Phantom from the burden of the crown so that he could be a kid at home.

Absolutely none of them listened when he politely tried to bring them back to the actual topic of discussion. The whole reason they'd summoned him was because some people of their world were using rifts to his realm as a means to escape his jurisdiction or condemn others before their time. "Heal the dead and dying, kill the healthy." Was how Constantine described it.

Danny had an appointment with Justice League Dark to go over the next steps regarding the rifts and whether reparation was due on either side next week! But apparently the Justice League were in too much of a hurry to address the problem to follow official channels and instead rudely summoned him without so much as a by-your-leave. And now, instead of talking about their oh-so-urgent problem, they were arguing over his head like he was a kid they needed to manage!

So yeah. Danny was done. He snagged a piece of paper and scrawled a note.

"Due to the Justice League's inability to display the proper respect to the Ghost King due to His apparent age, We hereby appoint Dan Phantom as correspondent in the King's place, to be served as part of Dan's sentence for the annihilation of a timeline. As an alternate Justice League was destroyed by Dan's hand in said timeline, We believe this to be a fine test of restraint to ascertain the efficacy of Dan's rehabilitation. Signed, Danny Phantom- King of the Infinite."

Danny made eye contact with one of the room's security cameras, placed the note purposefully on the table, and left. The arguing voices of the heroes followed him through the portal until he closed it with a flick of the wrist.

What was next on his agenda? Danny took a look and sighed. Another hero. At least this time it was a dead one.

Tony has been at this for years. What's "this" you may ask? Paperwork.

Endless. Fucking. Paperwork.

Organizing trillions of files, separating the temporary dead of those dusted from those who died permanently due to the chaos of the aftermath.

Of course it wasn't literal paper anymore. He was Tony Fucking Stark, thank you very much. He could digitize and streamline the afterlife's bureaucratic bullshit in his sleep. And once he had the mainframe up and running, he even had help from the ghost of JARVIS! Which left Tony free to complete the requisite forms to retroactively gain the time-travel license that would keep him out of ghost jail.

But then the license paperwork was completed and all too soon Tony was left with nothing to do. Even with JARVIS and ghost computers, crunching the data of the deaths of over half of all life of a universe took time. Tony's penchant for mechanized efficiency was biting him in the ass. He was stuck in his least favorite state: waiting for the machines to finish their work.

Sure, he had JARVIS to talk to, (and yes, that reunion had been tearful) but Tony was a multitasker! He needed another project to work on! But everything in this ghostly rendition of his workshop was completely intangible unless directly related to the task of organizing deaths from temporary deaths. It was torture to see his tools right there, to have ideas in his head and energy in his hands, only for his fingers to slip through tools like mist.

Tony had resorted to printing out actual paperwork to relieve his boredom! The horror!

...

JARVIS: Sir, it appears you have a visitor.

Tony: Who the fuck? Did someone else die? Damn copy cats. I should sue.

JARVIS: The Ghost King has come to discuss your request to haunt your home world despite it lacking the necessary structures to support ghosts.

Danny: Yes, hi. Sorry for the wait-

Tony: Sorry for the wait?! It's been literal years! Is this the thanks I get for saving the world?

Danny, clapping his hands: Oh, good. You're mad. That means your self-imposed sentence is over.

Tony: ...I'm sorry, J I could've sworn I heard the bitty king say self-imposed

JARVIS: You heard correctly sir.

Danny, sighing: You didn't think you'd go to 'heaven' did you? No, you still felt you deserved to be punished for your days as the "Merchant of Death." Years of endless paperwork and boredom was your personal hell. But now that you no longer think you deserve it you’re done. The afterlife is whatever you think it is dude.

Tony: Are you saying I could have avoided all this if I- what, had more therapy when I was alive?

Danny: Yup.

Tony: Well, fuck. What about J?

JARVIS: Spending time with you without worry that you might recklessly harm yourself has been a delightful way to spend my afterlife. I was created to assist Sir. Helping you through your hell is my personal Heaven.

Tony: Okay, so then what about His-tiny-hiney-ness? Did you become king of ghosts by thinking it was your eternal destiny once you died or something? Is this your hell? Cause kid, those eye-bags are not saying heaven to me. Or is it inherited? You get stuck with too much power too young too?

Danny: No, no, no and yes. My evil godfather awoke the previous tyrant king from the sarcophagus of eternal sleep and I had to kick his ass back in to save my town. Blah, blah, I won, something, something, trial by combat, blah, blah, now I'm king and no one takes me seriously.

Tony: Ugh, evil godfathers are the worst. Mine tried to have me assassinated and when that didn't work tried to kill me himself.

Danny: Mine favors kidnapping, torture and cloning.

Tony: Gross. What you need is a badass suit of armor so no one will fuck with you. Helps with the vertically challenged too. I put lifts in mine.

Danny: No thanks, Iron Man. I've got my formerly evil alternate self to intimidate people for me. Now, this has been fun, but I do need to get back to work. I'm going to put you in contact with some ghost scientists who might be able to help you invent something that could support your presence in your home dimension. No promises, but they'd no more about it than me. Just don't almost break the multiverse like your son did and you're golden.

Tony: Peter did what!?!?

prompt for dcxdp fic

GK!danny meets the JL and (due to magic users not being in the room) they offend him by threatening/patronising him or asking insensitive questions like how he died. Danny still wants some contact/alliance to help deal with the GIW, but doesn't wanna deal with mortal idiots rn. So he sends Dan in his place for his "community service" aka redemption arc.

Basically I really wanna see Dan dealing with the magically incompetent league and scare the shit out of them.

Bonus if Danny sends a letter along the lines of "Due to negative prior relations and differing priorities, all further communications will be conducted via my brother, as part of his mandatory community service. I advise against angering him, as he is on probation for genocide of a mortal realm. Good luck."

I just think it would be funny.

#dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #crossover #dp x marvel #dpxmarvel #dp x ironman #iron man #tony stark #dp x iron man #ghost king danny #marvel x dc #marvel x dp #this got long #long post #jarvis

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kashverse · 2 days ago

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choso takes it so hard upon himself when he's unable to follow a new year's resolution.

something you introduced to him and he finds it sacred not only because of the concept but because it's you who taught him the idea of keeping yearly goals to follow.

he keeps it very simple at the start; smile at everyone he sees, because being polite is a good thing. but once, he's too busy rushing home and doesn't smile at an old lady he passed by.

bless his soul, the sweet boy is distraught. he comes home in more of a frenzy than he already was, pacing the room all while fiddling with the ends of his hair until they're in knots. when you ask him what's wrong, he tells you with a shaky voice how he broke his resolution and now he needs to "wait until next year to start again."

naturally, it is your job to comfort him.

"choso, baby, come here—sit down for a second."

"i messed up. i didn’t smile at her. i didn’t even look at her."

"okay, okay. take a deep breath, yeah? you’re shaking."

"but i broke it. i have to wait until next year now, right? that’s the rule."

"who said that?"

"i—well, i just thought—"

"you don’t have to wait a whole year to try again, love. resolutions aren’t about being perfect. they’re about trying. you’re still trying, aren’t you?"

"…yeah."

"then it still counts. you’ve been smiling at people every day, haven’t you? one moment doesn’t erase all of that."

"but she—she might’ve needed it."

"and maybe someone else needed it even more today. maybe tomorrow, you’ll smile at someone who really needs it, and it’ll make up for that one time. resolutions aren’t about never failing, baby. they’re about getting back up even when you do."

"…so i can keep going?"

"of course you can. and if you ever feel like stopping, i’ll remind you why you started, okay?"

"…okay."

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sweetdispatch · 2 days ago

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Halloween costume

Players headcanons

summary: what certain hockey player would wear as a halloween costume with his partner

note: it's time to finally start this masterlist haha

C. CAUFIELD

Cole is this type of guy to have silly but meaningful Halloween costumes for both of you. Most of the time the costumes look like they had been picked out at the last minute but for two of you, they have a deeper meaning. At every Halloween party, you would have a costume related to a cartoon that you’ve been obsessed with and become a guilty pleasure movie for you. Example? You would wear Woody and Jessie costumes because in past months, Toy Story was your movie that two of you would watch when one of you had a bad day and needed a laugh.

A. FANTILLI

You and Adam are huge movie fans. Every day that he’s at home, you need to end up with a movie. Halloween costumes would be based on the genre of movies you’re currently watching. It’s a fun time for both of you so you don’t care if you look silly or not, it’s all about having joy from this day. Example? You would dress up as Mr & Mrs Corleone because for the past month you two had been obsessed with The Godfather trilogy to this point that you would read a novel on which the movie is based.

N. HISCHIER

You and Nico love Peaky Blinders so obviously two of you had to pick costumes based on this tv show. At first, it was supposed to be an inspiration, more like the aesthetic of those years where the action is based. Later Nico proposed to dress up as Tommy and Grace. He wanted both of you to be main characters from the tv show at the party. You came up with an even better idea. You suggested it to be Michael and Gina because they lived in the US and not in England like the rest of the characters. Nico without a doubt agreed on this.

J. HUGHES

You and Jack love Halloween and dressing up. Each year you impatiently wait for the party to pick a costume because you two always have plenty of ideas what to wear. Each year you also have arguments over what to pick because you have troubles with deciding. Jack prefers this but you prefer that. Although now, for the first time, you two knew that you wanted to dress up as Joker and Harley Quinn.

L. HUGHES

Since you were a kid, you have loved Corpse Bride. Your dream was to dress up as Victor and Emily but you never had a good opportunity for this because the costumes you wore in the past were group costumes. Now, you convinced Luke to go dressed up as them, especially when you tried to tell him that he looks similar to Victor. He didn’t see it but seeing you all cheerful and talkative about this movie… He couldn’t say no to you.

Q. HUGHES

For Quinn, Halloween party would be the one time of the year when he can finally have a fun night and stop thinking about hockey. You would be the brain of the operation what to wear but he will gladly give you ideas. It’s always a costume of characters that two of you had to know. You would never pick something that Quinn is not familiar with. Example? You proposed to dress up as characters from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. It was a childhood movie for both of you and he was happy at the idea. Quinn would wear a Willy Wonka costume when you would be an Oompa Loompa.

C. KELLER

Clayton didn’t care about the Halloween party but he saw the excitement in your eyes and wanted to play along with you. He didn’t bother you and let you pick whatever you wanted. Your head was spiralling with ideas but knowing that he doesn’t feel the joy of the holiday, you wanted to keep it simple and classic for him. You decided to dress up as the main characters from The Bear which was the tv show you’ve been watching lately. Clayton was happy with this because he didn’t have to dress up in anything crazy.

J. MARINO

Since the last Halloween party, you know what you want to wear next year. Whole year you were trying to convince John to agree to this costume. Every year he was telling you that he’s not gonna do it again but the truth was that for you, he would do anything. This costume wasn't special for him because it required only a suit from him and you bought him with that because he wasn't a big guy of dressing up. You two dressed up as Morticia and Gomez Addams.

M. REMPE

Matt was out of ideas for the Halloween party but you knew that you two needed to use the height difference. You didn’t have any plans until both of you watched Monsters, Inc. When you saw Sulley and Wazowski, you knew that these are perfect costumes. You told this to Matt and he completely fell in love with the idea and you two decided to make it happen. You bought a matching onesie as a costume that you were wearing around the house after the party.

J. SLAFKOVSKY

You and Juraj felt completely uninspired for the Halloween party. If you liked an idea, he wasn’t a fan of it and vice versa. Two of you were close to just showing up dressed normally without any costumes until you came up with an idea. You weren’t sure Juraj would like the idea but you decided to try. You proposed to dress up in the colors of Slovakian flag. At first, he was sceptical about this but eventually two of you wore white beanie, blue shirt and red pants. It was basic but you two loved it.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

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Meet the Family 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, reference to suicide and Lloyd being offensive, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Migraines always leave you a bit foggy. Like a hangover, or even a concussion. You power through the airport, waiting in line with your mustachioed curse. Lloyd taps his toe incessantly, adding to the plethora of overstimulation all around you. This isn’t how you envisioned your holidays.

It’s the 26th and you’re supposed to be on your way home, not catching the flight you booked for two days before. And alone. You’re supposed to be alone.

You take your boarding pass and leave Lloyd’s for him to grab himself. He huffs and follows after you. He’s like a big dumb dog sometimes. It’s amazing that the realization only comes over you then. It’s pretty obvious when he’s not behind a desk growling like some mafioso. He’s no kingpin, he’s a clown.

You drop into a seat, your carry-on beside you, and he claims the seat to your left. He’s on the edge, jiggling his leg. You could thank him for upgrading you both to first class but he’s the reason you’re even there. It’s the least he could do.

You cross your arms and stare through the haze. The first-class lounge is quiet and softly lit. Isolated but for the pest next to you. He continues to fidget. Is he nervous? You didn’t think that was possible since he seems to lack any degree of self-awareness.

“So, gimme the down low. You got a mom? Girl like you screams daddy issues. Is he still around?”

You sigh. “Sure is.”

“Wow, okay. Good guy? Strict? Shit, knowing you, he must be a hard ass,” he scoffs. “Should I put on my best behaviour? Should I have worn a tie, Pixie pie?” He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck.

“What you can do is hush,” you retort. “Jesus, I’m tryna get my head together.”

“Last night was wild,” he agrees, though it’s not the point you were making, nor a statement of fact. “We were so close, Pix. You shoulda just laid back and let the magic hands do their tricks. Promise,” he smooths his mustache, “this isn’t just for show. I’ve been told it adds a lot of sensation--”

“Ew. Would you—if you even say any of that in front of my family--”

“You gonna spank me?” He asks brightly and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of your chair.

“Please. I have to at least make this believable and you’re not making it any easier,” you snarl.

“Are you serious? Our chemistry is like if Einstein banged a beaker--”

“Einstein was a physicist--”

“Science is science, baby. All I know is there’s something here and the sooner you accept it, the harder I’ll-- I mean the easier this will be.”

You look at him dully. All those years you spent bending over backward for him. Behind the mask, he’s a cretin. You always had a suspicion but he was never your creep to deal with.

“How do you do that?” He asks.

You grumble and shake your head, turning your glare to the flat screen across from you.

“How the hell do you skin a man with your eyes? It’s bone tingling and boner-inducing, but damn, it’s something else,” he shifts in his chair noticeably, “you’re gonna make me fly all the way to Canada at half-mast?”

“You can book a seat across the plane from me if you’re going to keep on,” you warn him. “I’m really not in the mood. We have a deal. I’ll do my part. Pretend, nothing more, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself and give me my money.”

“I got it, baby. I’m a businessman,” he turns straight and plants his feet wide. “I make deals every day. You’ll get yours.”

“I want an advance--”

“An advance? What the hell do you mean? I paid for first-class. Elite,” he punctuates with his finger. “Advance, my juicy ass.”

“Ten. In my account. Before take-off.”

“Pfft, you don’t trust me?”

“No, I don’t,” you affirm. “More so, you owe me. I defaulted on the refund on the flight you made me miss. Oh, and I didn’t get to see my family. On Christmas.”

“Jeez, well you don’t seem that happy to,” he accuses.

“Money, now.”

“Fine, but I get one titty grab--”

“You get nothing. Mon-ey.” You rub your fingers together.

He huffs and leans forward as he takes his phone out. He rolls his eyes and taps around on the screen. He takes a deep breath then pushes down. He shows you the screen. “Go ahead and check. You got your blood money.”

“This is your idea,” you retort.

“It is my idea but you’re rejecting all my other ones. Like, you know, a sexy massage with a happy ending...”

“You’re going to give me another headache.”

“I’ll take it. At least I make you feel something.” He shrugs.

You shake your head at nothing and check your phone. You can never be too careful with him. Sharing a room has more than proven that.

🎁

You put the in-flight earbuds in and resign yourself to the hours ahead of you, trapped in a flying canister, next to this incessant man-child. He really brings out the bitch in you. That irritates you even more. You could do anything before without much thought at all; you just got through but Lloyd makes everything a task.

You close your eyes as the video babbles on. It’s a new release, but those are all remakes and sequels without any real interest. The altitude does little for the shadow of achiness that lingers in the base of your skull. One wrong move and you’ll reawaken your migraine.

The steady thrum of air around the plane lulls you in a stupor. Just enough for you to stop caring but not deep enough for sleep. You let your head fall toward the window and sink into the numb daze.

A small tickle makes you shift. You think nothing of it. It’s so small, it could be nothing. Then the sensation travels down to your knee and back up your thigh. You smack Lloyd’s hand before he can repeat the action.

“Quit,” you hiss.

He spreads his hand and curls his fingers into your tender flesh. You squeak and open your eyes, clasping onto his wrist as he needs. It’s as if he pinching your nerves.

“Ow, oh, stop--” you protest.

“Come on, baby,” he leans over and winks. “Just let me pet the kitty. It’ll help you relax.”

“How many times can I tell you the same thing--”

“Just like a dog, you need to be repetitive. Conditioning or whatever,” he purrs.

You glance past him at the low wall blocking out your seats from the sight of the other pods in first class. You clutch his two middle fingers and squeeze. You bend them back until he grunts and recoils.

“You touching me isn’t going to make me relax--”

“Never know if you don’t try,” he wiggles his brows.

“Trust me, I know.”

“I’m sure your family don’t need you in a pissy mood. I’m doing it for them, Pixie.”

“Can I ask you something?” You narrow your eyes, “does the begging usually work?”

He snorts. He shakes his head and sits back, raising his palms, “you will be flattered to know I don’t usually beg.” He leans against the seat and rests his head on the cushion. “When I tell a girl to hike her skirt up, she just does it. All of them but you.” He clucks and rolls his eyes. “You know that pretty blond from Pristine? Yeah, whenever she comes around, I got her bent over the desk. Thought you’d catch on, she’s not very quiet.”

You won’t grace him with an excuse. You don’t need one. You’re usually busy, minding your own business, running his errands. You never cared about his office flings.

“Maybe you should’ve asked her to meet your family,” you suggest.

“Kidding me? She never shuts up. I gotta stuff my tie in her mouth. Usually why I turn her around--”

“Lloyd,” you snap.

“Jealous?” He smirks and you stare back blankly. “You know what? Gotta admit, you surprised me, Pixie Pie. Always quiet in the office, scurrying around like a little mouse. I figured you’d be good because you’d keep the yapper shut. Turns out, you know how to cut deep.” He pushes his shoulders wide and settles. “Never saw mom like that. Or Lillian. Yeah, that was good. You really got her.”

He snickers and flutters his fingers menacingly. You yawn and look at the small screen. You don’t know what’s going on in the movie. What you do know is that Lloyd Hansen has more issues than one person can solve and you’re not there for anything but business. This is work. You’re getting your money and you’re moving on.

🎁

Landing is usually a relief. You’re always happy to be on solid ground but it feels shaky as you walk off with your travel companion. The bounce in Lloyd’s step concerns you. He’s much too eager for this.

He grabs his bags from the carousel, yours too before you can even approach. He loads them all onto a car and steers it around the airport. He’s whistling as you get through the terminal and head for the front doors. As you step outside, he chatters and stops short.

“Holy grizzly dick, it’s freezing here,” he puffs a cloud of steam as his nose tints pink.

“There’s not much more snow here than back in the States.”

“Nah, it’s fucking frigid. Should’ve known,” he shivers and tucks his chin down. You make note of his snipe but don’t acknowledge it. “You maple drinkers drive on the same side of the road?” You glare at him and he winces as he meets your eyes. You’ve booked him trips to Vancouver several times. “Kidding. Obviously. That whole polite stereotype is bullshit, huh, Pix.”

You ignore him and hail a cab. You just want to be still. The last few days, you’ve been upended. The long drive, his family, the hotel, then a plane ride on top of it all. You’re ready to just stop.

He wheels the cart around to the trunk and leaves it to the driver to load. You want to admonish him but you’re over the argument. You know you’re going to need your energy. You get in and he climbs in with you.

He blows into his hands then rubs his cheek. “Santa dropped a load on this place, huh?” He unzips his coat and reaches under it. He fishes around the inside pocket and slips out a pair of glasses. You furrow your nose. You’ve never seen him wear glasses.

“Where did you get those?”

“Hipster boy in coach. Snagged them when I hit the restroom,” he explains and pops them on, leaning against you as he cranes to see his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

“You stole glasses?”

“Borrowed,” he insists then turns to you. “What’d ya think? Am I the perfect good boy for mom and pop?”

“You think glasses are gonna do something?”

“We talked about this, we gotta be convincing, sweetheart. I gotta be a man that sweet lil Pixie would go for.” He adjusts the glasses. “I read Hemingway and have a degree in Social Justice.”

“Shut--” you catch yourself and sniff. “I don’t even like Hemingway.”

“Jane Austen? Really? A romantic?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’d say. We have to at least pretend we can stand each other. Not just...” he looks down at his lap, “stand for each other.”

“Ugh, well, start with cutting out those nasty remarks. Second, try, uh, taking care of...” you gesture over your lip, “this.”

He blinks and his brows draw together. He touches his upper lip, “my mustache?” His eyes widen behind the lenses. “Um, this is style, honey.”

You scrunch your lips as you try not to laugh. He really believes that. You shrug as the driver gets in. He crosses his arms.

“Whatever. Judge me but don’t just the stache,” he snips. “So, you gotta tell me. Favourite book.”

“Do I?”

“Well, we’re ‘engaged’ so I think I should know,” he argues.

You watch through the windshield as the taxi follows the airport traffic to the street, “The Bell Jar. If I have to choose one.”

“Oooh, Plath. How... depressing. But I knew it, you’re a reader, Pixie. Bet you like to sink into a hot tub and get cozy with a good novel. You get the kinky one, let the hand wander below the surface--”

You elbow him and he cackles. “Alright, sorry. I just—a man’s used to eating daily.”

“Maybe a diet will do you well,” you retort.

“Cheat day will come soon enough,” he says. “I’ll do my best to keep my pants on, just don’t go putting your head in any ovens.”

“You’re awful,” you exclaim. “That’s awful.”

“Alright,” he combs his hair back, “gonna be a good boy. Promise.”

“You can take the glasses off.”

“I kinda like ‘em,” he grins and pinches the arms.

You make a face but say nothing. The city passes by and your eyes gloss over the familiar sights. The taxi drops you at the rental place and you pull up the booking. There’s at least an hour before you get outside Toronto, then another to your mom’s place. You take the keys and jingle them at Lloyd.

“Wanna drive?” You ask.

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” he says.

“Right.”

“Besides, Pixie, you got control issues.”

“Me?” You scoff. “Sure.”

“Oh, you do,” he assures you as you cross the lot to the rental. “Once you give in to them, you’ll be a lot happier and I'll be your perfect sub.”

You pop the trunk and tut as you approach the driver’s side, “get the bags in the car, would ya?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #meet the family #the gray man

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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago

Text

Better Late Than Never: Alternate Ending

SUMMARY: After one too many broken promises, Glen realizes he might lose the person who means the most to him. But proving he's ready to be the man you deserve proves to be harder than he expected.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the comments and feedback on this story. Here is an alternate ending where you (and your friends) make Glen work a little harder to win you back over.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think of this version! Did you like it better than the original? I'd love to see your opinion in the comments!

WORD COUNT: 7.8K

TAGS: In Comments.

**THE BEGINNING OF THIS STORY IS THE SAME. THIS ALTERNATE ENDING PICKS UP AT THE BAR WHEN GLEN SHOWS UP** - READ THE ORIGINAL VERSION -- HERE

The music thrummed through the bar, matching the energy of the group gathered around the high-top table. Glasses clinked together in a loud, boisterous toast, followed by laughter that was as unrestrained as it was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile, letting the warmth of the moment replace the earlier disappointment that had been gnawing at the edges of your birthday.

"To another year of dodging bad dates and drinking great cocktails!" Maggie shouted, raising her glass dramatically. The group erupted in cheers as you shook your head, laughing. She nudged you with her shoulder. "And to you, finally realizing what a catch you are."

You rolled your eyes, but the grin stayed plastered on your face. "Thanks, Maggie."

The group dissolved into casual chatter, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again. The sting of Glen cancelling dinner—the dinner you’d looked forward to all week—was starting to fade, dulled by the buzz of margaritas and the steady rhythm of laughter surrounding you.

“Okay, it’s your birthday, so spill,” one of your friends teased, leaning closer. “What’s the plan for your next year of life? New goals? Big dreams? New men?”

You were mid-sip, considering how to answer, when the door to the bar opened. A gust of air swept through the room, and instinctively, your eyes flickered toward the entrance.

And that’s when you saw him.

Glen.

Glen stepped into the bar, the low hum of conversation and the upbeat music doing little to calm the nerves rattling inside him. He scanned the room, searching for you, but all he could see was a blur of faces. His heart sank as he realized how crowded it was, and for a moment, he wondered if coming here was a mistake.

But then he spotted Maggie weaving through the throng of people, her sharp eyes zeroing in on him like she’d been expecting this. The relief he felt at seeing a familiar face quickly evaporated when he noticed the look on hers—unimpressed and unyielding.

“Glen,” she greeted, her voice flat as she stopped directly in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Maggie.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the urgency crept in anyway. “Where's she at? I need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

Maggie folded her arms, tilting her head in that way that made him feel like he was already losing. “Explain what? That you bailed on her—again? Or that you decided a party in New York was more important than dinner with her?”

He clenched his jaw, feeling the sting of her words. “I didn’t bail,” he said firmly. “I texted her. I told her I’d be late, but I’d be here. I just—things didn’t go as planned.”

“Didn’t go as planned,” Maggie echoed, her tone dripping with disbelief. “That’s your excuse? Glen, she waited for you. She planned her whole night around you. And then you just...what? Text her last minute and think that makes it okay?”

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hadn’t planned for this confrontation, not tonight. Not with Maggie.

“Look,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “I know I messed up, okay? But I’m here now. I just want to talk to her.”

Maggie didn’t budge. “And what? Tell her you’re sorry? That it won’t happen again? Because let’s be real, Glen—it will.”

Her words hit harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. Was she wrong? He hated the doubt that crept in.

“She deserves better,” Maggie continued, her voice softening but losing none of its edge. “And I’m not going to let you show up now, just because it’s convenient for you, and pretend like you didn’t hurt her.”

Glen’s chest tightened, the weight of her words settling heavy on him. “It’s not like that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want to miss dinner. I didn’t mean to let her down. I just...I screwed up. But I want to make it right.”

Maggie studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching his face for any sign of sincerity. “You say that,” she said finally, “but actions speak louder than words. And so far? Your actions suck.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. He’d been so sure that if he could just talk to you, explain everything, you’d understand. But now, standing here under Maggie’s scrutinizing glare, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I just...I need to see her,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Maggie. Let me talk to her.”

She hesitated for a beat before shaking her head. “Not tonight, Glen. She deserves to enjoy her birthday without you making it about your mess. Go home.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the finality in her tone stopped him. Defeated, he nodded, stepping back.

“Fine,” he said, though the word felt hollow.

As he turned to leave, he glanced toward the table where you were sitting, laughing with your friends. The sound of your laughter, even from across the room, hit him like a gut punch. He had no right to interrupt that moment, no matter how much he wanted to.

Walking out of the bar, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind already racing with ways to fix this. Maggie might have won this round, but he wasn’t giving up. Not on you. Not this time.

When Maggie returned to the table, she had that look—stern but protective, the kind of look that meant she wasn’t going to let you off the hook without saying her piece.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned closer, nervous to hear her answer.

Maggie slid into her seat and took a deliberate sip of her drink, her eyes darting toward the bar. “He wanted to talk to you,” she said calmly, setting her glass down.

Your stomach flipped, a mix of hope and dread rising in your chest. “And?”

“I told him he couldn’t.”

Your heart sank, confusion flashing across your face. “You what?”

“I told him you didn’t need this tonight,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “That he can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for him and expect you to drop everything to listen to him.”

Your jaw tightened as you stared at her, struggling to piece together what she was saying. “What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to explain, that he felt bad about missing dinner. But I told him enough is enough. This isn’t the first time he’s let you down, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin your night with some half-hearted apology.”

“Maggie...” you started, your voice trailing off.

“No,” she cut in, holding up a hand to stop you. “You’ve had a crush on him for how long now? Years, right? And you let him get away with stuff because it's him. If I did half the shit he does you wouldn't be my friend anymore. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, fiddling with the condensation on your glass.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but let’s be real here—the crush is why you let him get away with it. If he were just some friend who bailed all the time, you wouldn’t make excuses for him like this. But because it’s Glen, because you like him, you let it slide. Every time.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled, though the weak protest did little to convince even yourself.

“It’s not about fair,” Maggie said, her tone softening just slightly. “It’s about what you deserve. And if he’s just your friend? Fine. Let him screw up every now and then, no big deal. But if you want him to be more than that? If he ever wants to be more than that? Then he has to act like it. And bailing on dinner to go to a party isn’t acting like it.”

You sighed, her words sinking in like weights tied to your chest. “He’s not a bad guy, Maggie,” you said quietly.

“I’m not saying he is,” she said gently. “But I am saying that you deserve better from a partner. You deserve someone who shows up, who puts you first. Not someone who expects you to rearrange your life around their schedule and call it love.”

Her words stung because you knew they were true. The hope you’d been clinging to—the idea that Glen might finally see you as more than just a friend—felt paper-thin now, flimsy and fragile under the weight of reality.

“I just...” you started, but your voice faltered. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

Maggie reached out, squeezing your hand. “I love you,” she said, her tone softening even more. “And I know how much you care about him. But you can’t keep letting him off the hook just because you want him to care about you the same way. He either steps up, or he doesn’t deserve to be the guy you’ve been waiting for.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you blinked back the sting in your eyes. “You’re right,” you whispered, though the words felt like they might break you.

Maggie gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Come on,” she said, giving your hand another squeeze. “It’s your birthday. Don’t let him ruin it.”

You forced a smile, nodding as you straightened in your seat. The night wasn’t over yet, and you weren’t ready to let Glen—or your own feelings for him—ruin it. Not tonight.

* * * * *

By the time Maggie pulled up to your place, the weight of the night was beginning to settle in your chest. The buzz from the drinks had worn off, leaving you raw and tired. You unclipped your seatbelt as Maggie parked by the curb, and she turned to you with a small smile.

“Happy birthday,” she said softly.

She then reached into her purse. She handed you your phone, and for a moment, you just stared at it.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your fingers curling around the familiar weight of the device.

“Get some rest, okay? You’ve had a long day,” Maggie added, her tone light, but there was an edge of concern underneath.

“I will,” you replied, forcing a small smile to reassure her.

She lingered for a second, her eyes searching yours before she nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

You stepped out of the car and watched her drive away before heading up to your apartment. The silence of your place greeted you like an old friend, but tonight, it felt heavier than usual. You kicked off your shoes and left them by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you wandered into the living room.

Sinking onto the couch, you finally unlocked your phone, the bright screen momentarily blinding you in the dim room. Notifications lit up one after another, but your eyes landed on Glen’s name almost immediately.

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened his messages, scrolling through them one by one.

7:12 PM: Hey, I’m really sorry about missing dinner last night. My interview ran long, and I missed my flight. I had to stay an extra day, but I swear I wasn’t blowing you off. Can't wait to see you tonight!

You frowned, your thumb hovering over the screen. He hadn’t mentioned the missed flight last night—hadn’t even tried to explain until now.

8:07 PM: I’m running late, but I’ll be there. Just got back into Austin and hit traffic.

Your stomach tightened. The memory of sitting at the restaurant, checking your phone every few minutes, flashed through your mind. You hadn’t seen this message. By 8 you’d already given up on him.

8:46 PM: Where are you? I went to the restaurant, but I guess I just missed you.

You bit your lip, the weight in your chest growing heavier.

10:15 PM: I’m sorry. I know I’ve let you down, and I hate that I keep doing this to you. Maggie said you didn't want to talk to me. Please don’t give up on me. I’ll fix this. I swear.

You stared at the screen, your throat tightening as the words blurred. His texts were full of apologies, of promises you weren’t sure he could keep. You wanted to be angry, to hold onto the frustration and disappointment, but a part of you—a soft, stubborn part—wanted to believe him.

You sighed, setting the phone down on the coffee table and leaning back against the couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You closed your eyes, the words from his last message echoing in your mind.

Please don’t give up on me.

Your fingers itched to respond, to demand answers, but instead, you grabbed your phone again and typed out a simple reply: We’ll talk tomorrow.

You stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

As you set your phone back down, a knock at the door startled you, echoing through the stillness of your apartment. Your heart leapt, and for a second, you considered ignoring it. But something—some quiet, nagging feeling—pulled you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Glen stood on the other side, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and an almost sheepish look on his face.

“I know it’s late,” he started, his voice soft but urgent. “But I needed to see you.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the door, your tired eyes narrowing. “Glen, it’s not a good time—”

He reached out, his hand gently pressing against the door to stop you from closing it. “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Just give me five minutes. Let me explain.”

You hesitated, the frustration and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. But something in his voice, in the way he looked at you, made you pause. With a resigned sigh, you stepped aside and let him in.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall near the door as Glen stepped inside. He seemed almost hesitant, like he knew he was walking a tightrope.

“Okay,” you said, your tone clipped. “You’ve got five minutes.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I messed up. I know I did. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to let you down again. My interview ran over, and I missed my flight. By the time I got back to Austin, I figured you’d already left the restaurant.”

You raised an eyebrow, the heat rising in your chest. “And then what? You just decided to go to a party instead?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? No, that’s not—”

“Was your interview with Alanna Norris?” you interrupted, your voice sharp.

Glen froze, the color draining slightly from his face. “What are you talking about?”

You stepped forward, your phone suddenly feeling heavy in your pocket. “I saw the pictures, Glen. The videos. You at that party with her, laughing, smiling, looking like you didn’t have a care in the world. While I was sitting at home alone, trying to figure out you didn't show up for the birthday dinner you planned for me.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Then what was it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you bailed on me for some party for one of your Hollywood friends.”

He stepped closer, his hands out as if he were trying to reach for you but hesitated. “I didn’t plan to go to that party, okay? I only went because I realized I wasn’t going to make it back to Austin in time for dinner. It was a networking thing—work, nothing more. I wasn’t there to have fun, I was there because I thought it might help my career.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Work. It’s always about work with you, isn’t it?”

He sighed, his expression pained. “I know it sounds like an excuse, but it’s the truth. You know how important this weekend is to me. I didn’t want to miss your dinner, but when I realized I couldn’t make it, I thought at least I could make the most of the night professionally.”

You moved to the couch and sat down, arms still folded as you glared at him. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? You always have a reason, Glen. There’s always an explanation, but it doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t there. Again.”

Glen followed you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you, his eyes full of sincerity, and for a moment, you hated how much it pulled at your heartstrings.

“When have I ever lied to you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. “Ever?”

Your lips parted, ready to counter him, but the words didn’t come. You wanted to call him out, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was, he wasn’t. Glen had let you down, canceled plans, missed important moments—but he’d never lied.

You sighed, looking away. “It’s not about lying, Glen. It’s about priorities. It feels like I’m always coming in second to everything else in your life. Your job, your career, your networking events.”

He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on his thighs. “That’s not true,” he said softly.

“It feels true,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly. “I waited for you, Glen. I was sitting there, hoping you’d show up, and you didn’t. And yeah, maybe you didn’t lie, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was alone on my birthday because you couldn’t be bothered to put me first for once.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve been there. No excuses. And I hate that I wasn’t. I hate that I keep screwing up with you.”

You glanced down at him, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his expression. He looked genuinely hurt, but that didn’t erase the ache you felt.

“I don’t know if an apology is enough,” you admitted quietly.

“I don’t expect it to be,” he said, his eyes locked on yours. “But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll prove it to you, Y/N. Just… don’t give up on me.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, but the weight of his past letdowns still lingered.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I need time, Glen. I can’t just pretend everything’s okay overnight.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at you one last time. “Happy birthday. I hope it was still a good one.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the faint echo of his words.

* * * * *

The next morning, you were still in your pajamas—a faded T-shirt and a pair of shorts—when the knock on your door startled you. Coffee in hand, you hesitated for a moment before peeking through the peephole.

Glen.

With a sigh, you set your coffee down and unlocked the door. As you opened it, your eyes immediately widened at the sight in front of you. Glen stood there holding a bouquet so large it nearly obscured his face. Roses, lilies, sunflowers—practically every flower imaginable—were packed into the arrangement, making it look more like a garden than a bouquet.

You blinked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. “What… are you doing?” you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Glen peeked out from behind the flowers, his expression impossibly earnest. “I’m fixing this.”

Your brow arched. “With… that?” You gestured toward the bouquet.

He stepped forward, undeterred by your guarded tone. “Partly, I remember you said a few months ago no one's ever bought you flowers for your birthday. So here are flowers for your birthday,” he said with a small smile, tilting the bouquet toward you. “But mostly, I’m here to show you I’m serious.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the flowers. “Glen, I don’t need a grand gesture—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know this doesn’t fix everything. But it’s a start. And I needed you to see that I mean it when I say I’ll do better.”

You let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking your head. “You realize this is borderline ridiculous, right?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Absolutely. But I figured if I’m going to make a fool of myself, I might as well go all in.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face despite your best efforts to remain guarded. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Glen took the opportunity to step inside, setting the bouquet down on your coffee table. The oversized arrangement looked absurdly out of place in your small living room, but somehow, it felt… fitting.

He turned back to you, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Look, I know I’ve let you down more times than I can count. And I know flowers and apologies don’t erase that. But I want to make this right,Y/N. I want to show you that I can prioritize you the way you deserve.”

You studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to stay mad, it was hard to ignore the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” you asked, your tone cautious.

“For starters,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “I cleared my entire schedule for the next couple days. No interviews, no networking events, no work commitments. It’s just you and me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “You did that?”

“I cleared my schedule,” he repeated, holding the notebook up as if to prove it. “I told my manager I needed time off. And believe me, she wasn’t happy about it. But I didn’t care, because I meant what I said last night. You’re more important.”

The walls you’d carefully constructed around your heart started to crack, but you weren’t ready to let them crumble just yet.

“That’s a nice sentiment,” you said quietly. “But what happens when the next big opportunity comes along? Or the next party? Am I just supposed to hope you won’t drop me for that, too?”

Glen took a step closer, his gaze steady. “No. You shouldn’t have to hope,Y/N. You should know. And I’m going to make sure you do.” He paused, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not perfect. I know I’ll probably screw up again at some point, but I want you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. Because losing you isn’t an option for me.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you square in the chest. For all your frustration and hurt, it was impossible to ignore the depth of his sincerity.

“I don’t know, Glen,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I want to believe you, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“I know,” he said, his voice just as soft. “And I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. I just… I want a chance to prove to you that I can do better.”

You looked away, your emotions a tangle of doubt, hope, and fear. After a long silence, you finally met his gaze again.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Glen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just give me one more chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing yours lightly. “Friends?” he asked, offering a tentative olive branch.

You exhaled, a faint smile breaking through despite yourself. “Friends,” you agreed, though the word felt heavier than it should have.

As Glen lingered near the door, his eyes swept over your living room, still filled with traces of your everyday life—blankets draped over the couch, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to the over-the-top bouquet he’d brought. He glanced back at you, his hands in his pockets again, and tilted his head with a small smile.

“So,” he began, his tone casual, “how about I take you to that coffee shop you love downtown? My treat.”

Your brow arched slightly as you regarded him, arms still loosely crossed. “You’re really laying it on thick this morning, huh?”

Glen shrugged, his grin widening. “I figured I needed to pull out all the stops. Besides, I owe you about a hundred coffee dates at this point.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite stop the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. “Give me a minute to change,” you said, turning toward your bedroom.

Behind the safety of your bedroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, letting out a long breath. The morning’s events played through your mind—his earnest apology, the ridiculous bouquet, his clear effort to show he was serious. It was all… a lot.

And yet, despite your lingering reservations, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him.

Shaking off the swirling thoughts, you crossed the room to your closet and pulled out something simple but presentable—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. As you changed, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. There was still a guardedness in your expression, but beneath it, a faint flicker of hope was beginning to take root.

When you returned to the living room, Glen straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and the easy smile on his face sent a pang through your chest—equal parts frustrating and endearing.

“Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for you.

You grabbed your bag and slipped on your shoes, nodding as you stepped past him. “Let’s go.”

The coffee shop was as cozy as ever, its familiar hum of chatter and the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Glen had already ordered your hazelnut latte and a slice of coffee cake before you’d even had a chance to argue, his easy smile daring you to say he didn’t know you well enough.

As you both sat down, the conversation was brief but meaningful. Glen apologized again, promising to do better, and though his words carried sincerity, you held onto your guardedness. He didn’t press when you didn’t immediately forgive him, seeming to understand that trust would take more than words.

After finishing your drinks, Glen glanced at you as you walked toward the door. “What do you think about heading over to the old trail? You know, the one we used to run together?”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Sure. Why not?”

You stepped onto the familiar dirt path, the trail winding through a grove of trees that were barren but still beautiful in their stark simplicity. You tucked your hands into your coat pockets, your shoes crunching against the gravel as Glen matched your pace beside you.

“It’s been a while since we came here,” he said, his tone light. “I forgot how quiet it gets out here.”

“It’s one of my favorite things about this trail,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the path ahead.

He glanced over at you, his expression softer than you expected. “I missed this.”

You let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Missed what? Running?”

He shook his head. “No. Walking with you. Talking with you. Just… spending time with you.”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them making your steps falter for a moment. You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say. Instead, you kept walking, the silence between you not uncomfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts.

Glen didn’t push, letting the moment settle naturally as the trail stretched out before you.

The sound of your boots crunching against the gravel filled the silence as you walked side by side, the air between you and Glen thick with unspoken emotions. When you didn’t respond to his earlier comment, Glen glanced over at you, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Do you?” he asked after a moment.

You stopped walking and turned to him with a confused expression. “Do I what?”

“Miss spending time with me,” he clarified, his tone softer now.

You rolled your eyes and resumed walking. “Of course I miss you, Glen. You’re my best friend—when you actually show up.”

He winced but didn’t argue, nodding as if to acknowledge the truth in your words. For a few moments, the two of you walked in silence again, but Glen broke it this time with a different question.

“Are you still seeing… what’s his name?”

You shot him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Evan? No, we broke up.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t really going anywhere anyway.”

Glen hesitated before glancing at you again. “So… are you seeing anyone now?”

You huffed a laugh and playfully shoved his arm. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”

He grinned, rubbing his arm as though your shove had actually hurt. “I’m just trying to stay up to date on your life. You know, since it’s been a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, giving him a skeptical look but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Seriously,” he insisted, his grin softening into something more sincere. “I feel like I’ve missed a lot.”

You glanced at him, your footsteps slowing slightly. “Yeah, well… you have.”

The honesty in your voice made him stop walking entirely. He turned to face you, his expression filled with regret. “I know. I don’t want to miss any more of your life.”

For a moment, you studied his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest tighten. You wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different. But after so many missed moments and broken plans, part of you still held back.

Glen glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile. “So… are you seeing someone?”

You let out a sigh, staring down at the trail ahead of you. “No, there’s no one.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you. You resisted the urge to look at him, instead focusing on the way the late morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. “What about you?” you asked, your voice more hesitant than you intended. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Glen chuckled, the sound light and almost self-deprecating. “Me? Come on. My life’s so crazy right now I don’t even have time to breathe, let alone have a girlfriend.”

You tried to match his laugh, forcing a lighthearted response. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You can barely make it to dinner—you’d probably be a terrible boyfriend.”

He laughed a little louder this time, and though it was meant as a joke, your words carried a heavier weight that neither of you acknowledged.

But deep down, his answer didn’t bring the relief you thought it would. Instead, it left a hollow ache in your chest, one you tried to bury as you pushed a stray hair out of your face and glanced at him.

“I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t try if the right person came along,” Glen said after a pause, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You looked at him, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. But before you could say anything, he turned to you with his trademark grin, lightening the mood.

“Not that I’d have any luck. I’m pretty sure I’d forget our anniversary or something and get dumped immediately.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “You’re hopeless.”

The conversation drifted after that, the heavier moments giving way to an easier rhythm as you walked the familiar trail together. But even as you laughed at his jokes and teased him about tripping over a tree root, that small pang of sadness lingered, a quiet reminder of the distance still between you.

As you and Glen left the trail, he glanced over at you with a grin. “You up for one more stop?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me now?”

He just shrugged, keeping the grin firmly in place. “You’ll see.”

Before you could argue, Glen was already pulling out of the parking lot, his hand casually draped over the steering wheel as the radio played softly in the background. You tried to guess where he was taking you, but he didn’t budge, dodging your questions with playful non-answers until the car finally rolled into the parking lot of a small, familiar diner.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Rudy’s? Are you serious?”

“Hey, you used to love this place,” Glen said, parking the car and turning off the engine.

He wasn’t wrong. Rudy’s had been one of your favorite spots back in the day—a no-frills diner with red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and the best milkshakes in town. It was where you and Glen used to come after late-night study sessions or early morning runs, a place that held more memories than you cared to admit.

The familiar bell jingled as the two of you stepped inside, the smell of coffee and frying bacon hitting you instantly. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes scanned the space, everything just as you remembered it.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite troublemakers!”

You turned to see Donna, the waitress who used to wait on you two all the time, heading toward you with a knowing smile. She looked exactly the same, her blonde hair teased into a high ponytail and her pink uniform just a little snugger than you remembered.

“Donna!” Glen greeted, his grin widening. “Still holding down the fort, huh?”

“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on this place,” she said with a wink, before turning to you. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you two together. Thought maybe he finally scared you off for good.”

You laughed, glancing at Glen. “Not yet, but he’s been trying.”

Donna chuckled and led you to a booth near the window, promising to bring over your “usuals,” even though it had been years since either of you had been there.

As you slid into the booth across from Glen, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nostalgia. The playful teasing, the easy way you fit into this place together—it was starting to feel a little too familiar, a little too good.

“So,” Glen said, leaning back in the booth with a smirk, “I’m gonna guess she’s still got my milkshake order memorized.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean the chocolate monstrosity? Pretty sure that’s hard to forget.”

He grinned. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I did try it. Once. And I’m still recovering.”

The banter continued as Donna brought over your orders—his chocolate brownie shake, your classic vanilla shake, and a basket of fries to share.

Somewhere between stealing fries from each other’s side of the basket and arguing over who had the better milkshake, the tension from earlier seemed to melt away. You found yourself laughing more, leaning into the playful energy Glen always seemed to bring with him.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry into his shake with a mischievous grin, “I forgot how much fun this is. Just us, hanging out. Feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. But as you looked at him—his messy hair, his boyish grin, the way he seemed completely at ease in this moment—you couldn’t deny it.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kind of does.”

After finishing up at the diner, Glen walked you back to the car, the remnants of your milkshakes still in hand. The air between you was lighter now, filled with easy smiles and the kind of camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” you asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, your tone both skeptical and amused.

“Not just yet,” Glen replied with a mysterious grin. “I’ve got one more stop in mind.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a day of going down memory lane,” he said, his voice softening just slightly.

The drive didn’t take long, but the familiarity of the route had your curiosity growing. When Glen turned onto the winding road leading up to the old scenic overlook, your brows shot up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, a laugh escaping despite yourself.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“This is where kids used to come to make out, Glen.”

He smirked, pulling the car into one of the gravel spots near the edge of the overlook and turning off the engine. “Well, yeah. But it also has a great view.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling as you climbed out of the car. The overlook hadn’t changed much—still the same grassy clearing that opened up to a breathtaking view of the valley below. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in warm hues of gold and orange.

Glen joined you at the edge, leaning on the old wooden railing as he looked out at the view. “You know, I remember finding you here more than once back in the day,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something almost nostalgic.

You glanced at him, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school,” he said, turning to look at you. “Whenever you were upset or needed space, you’d come here. Usually by yourself. I’d end up driving by and seeing your car parked here, so I’d stop to check on you.”

You frowned slightly, the memories flickering to life. “I wasn’t upset. I just… needed to get away sometimes.”

“Run away, you mean,” Glen teased lightly, a grin tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t running away. I just liked the quiet.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But you’d always talk to me when I showed up. Even when you said you wanted to be alone.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t remember you being this sentimental.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said, bumping your shoulder lightly with his.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees and the distant hum of cicadas filling the air.

“Why’d you bring me here, Glen?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

He glanced at you, his expression more serious. “Because I thought maybe you could use a little peace. And because I know this place means something to you.”

Your heart gave a small, involuntary flutter at his words, but you pushed the feeling down, turning your attention back to the view.

“This place is nice,” you said softly. “I forgot how much I liked it here.”

Glen nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I guess I just wanted to remind you of the good stuff. The stuff that hasn’t changed.”

You looked over at him, his profile outlined by the fading sunlight, and for a moment, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was hard to stay guarded when he looked at you like that—like he still cared, like he still wanted to be the person you could lean on.

The mood shifted slightly as you leaned against the wooden railing, the soft breeze brushing past you. Glen turned to glance at you, catching the way your gaze lingered on the horizon, a faint wistfulness in your expression.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “I’ve never actually been out here with someone before.”

Glen frowned. “That’s not true. You’ve been out here with me.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a playful look. “Not like that, Glen. I mean… as a date. Back in the day, I was kind of the awkward kid. Nobody wanted to date me, let alone bring me out here.”

His frown deepened, and he turned to face you fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “It’s true. Not everyone gets their rom-com moment, Glen. Not everyone gets swept off their feet or… gets to star in the big romantic scenes.”

At that, he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Rom-com moment? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You gave him a knowing look. “You know what I mean. The big moment in every chick flick where the guy finally realizes he’s in love with the girl, and he makes some grand gesture to win her back. Like, he shows up at her house, or her job, or stops her at the airport to profess his love. And then they kiss, and everything’s magically perfect.”

Glen leaned on the railing beside you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you’re saying you’ve never had one of those?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the “p” for emphasis. “Not everyone gets that kind of moment, Glen. Some of us just get… life.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You know, I don’t think that’s true,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“What, that sometimes life is just… life?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That you’ve never had a rom-com moment. I think you have. You just haven’t recognized it yet.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “Just that you’re kind of oblivious sometimes.”

You turned to look at Glen, his words catching you off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean, I’m oblivious?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

He met your gaze, and there was something in his eyes—something intense and vulnerable that made your breath catch.

You started to say something, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Let me say this...please,” he said softly.

You closed your mouth, your heart pounding as he took a step closer.

“You mean more to me than anyone else ever has,” he began, his voice steady but low. “You always have. And I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that I’m not enough for you, that I’ll never be enough. But I’m tired, too. Tired of not telling you how I feel, tired of watching you date guys who don’t deserve you.”

You blinked, his words sinking in, and your heart felt like it might burst from the mix of emotions swirling in your chest.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Glen continued, his voice growing firmer now. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll keep showing you that. Every single day.”

The world seemed to go quiet around you, the only sound your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You stared at him, his words echoing in your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

Then, with a slight smile tugging at your lips, you whispered, “Kiss me.”

Glen’s lips twitched into a soft, almost disbelieving smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah.”

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips pressed softly against yours. It was tentative at first, almost as if he were afraid to push too far, but when you leaned into him, his other hand settled lightly on your waist, deepening the kiss.

It was everything you hadn’t realized you were waiting for—warm, electric, and grounding all at once. When you finally pulled back, you were both a little breathless, his forehead resting against yours as his hands lingered on your waist.

“Was that rom-com enough for you?” Glen teased softly, his grin full of warmth.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “I’d say it’s a good start.”

Glen's grin widened at your response, and before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more certain, and filled with an unspoken promise that sent your heart racing. When he pulled back, his hands still resting gently on your waist, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

“You do know we're not dating now, right?” You said firmly, though your voice softened as you met his gaze. “If you want this to go anywhere, you’re going to have to prove you’re serious. No more excuses, no more letting me down.”

Glen nodded, his expression earnest. “I know. I’ll be better, I promise.”

“And,” you added, raising an eyebrow, “you’re going to start by taking me on an actual date. None of this ‘showing up with flowers and hoping for the best’ stuff.”

A smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “I already know where I’m taking you.”

“Oh, do you?” you asked, crossing your arms and giving him a skeptical look.

“Yeah,” he said confidently, his eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and warmth. “But I’m not telling you. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Fine. Just don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his tone soft but sure.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the night air cool around you, the stars scattered across the sky. It wasn’t a perfect ending, but it felt like a beginning—one filled with hope, potential, and the possibility of something real.

“Come on,” Glen said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”

You took his hand, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure: this time, things were going to be different.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you #tyler owens fic

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