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gabstertrapster · 3 days ago

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⟡ - dropping a cute stink bomb infront of ATEEZ

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝𓆟𓆝

⋅ synopsis - you accidentally fart in front of ateez they may or may not be a little dramatic…

⋅ pairing - ateez member x gn! reader.

⋅ genre - absolute crack

⋅ warnings - maybe a little potty humour but it’s funny trust me

word count: 1.4k

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↳ kim hongjoong 🐿️

Hongjoong stops mid-sentence, his face twisting in pure horror as the smell hits him. “Oh my—Y/N?!”

He waves his hand in front of his face, gagging dramatically. You cover your face in shame, but he’s already getting up from the couch. “No, no, I need a second. I need air. I need a break.”

He opens a window, dramatically placing a hand on his forehead like he’s in a K-drama. “This is why I can’t have nice things.. it’s worse than the time Wooyoung left his gym shoes in the dorm.” He mumbled to himself.

Despite his suffering, he comes back and grabs your hand, sighing. “You’re lucky I love you. But if you ever do that again, I’m charging you rent for polluting my air.”

Then, suddenly, he straightens up, face serious. “…I must restore my honor.”

You blink “hongjoong what..?”

“I’M FARTING BACK.” He clenches his fists, concentrating.

↳ park seonghwa 🐰

Seonghwa’s eye twitches, nose wrinkling immediately. He physically stops breathing as he slowly looks at you.

“…Are you serious right now?”

“Y/N- You. Did. Not.” He clutches his chest, fake crying. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?”

You shrink under his gaze, dying of embarrassment, but he just shakes his head slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. You mumble an apology, but he just stands up, dusting himself off. “No, it’s fine. I just need to reevaluate some things. I did not sign up for this biological warfare.” Fanning the air dramatically.

But after a few seconds, he softens. “I won’t tell anyone… yet. But if this happens again, I can’t promise you won’t be roasted.”

He’s joking (mostly), but when he sees you pouting, he sighs and pulls you into a hug. “Aigoo… my little stink bomb. What am I gunna do with you” Then, he smirks. “Actually… maybe I should get revenge.”

You blink. “What?”

He just grins evilly. “Just wait until you’re sleeping tonight.”

“…If you fart, I fart.”

You panic. “Hwa, DON’T.”

↳ jeong yunho 🐶

Yunho gasps SO loud, you’d think he just witnessed a crime.

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“NO. WAY.”

You curl up in embarrassment, but he just points at you, laughing hysterically. “YAHH. THAT WAS INSANE.” Then, as if it’s not bad enough, he starts cackling. “Nah, that wasn’t a fart. That was an earthquake.”

“I should be mad, but honestly? I’m impressed. That takes skill” He grins. Then, suddenly, he stops laughing and cracks his neck.

You blink. “…Yunho?”

He nods solemnly. “I need to fart too… I must defeat you.” He grunts dramatically, focusing all his energy. And then… he lets one out.

It’s long. It’s deep. It’s resonant.

Both of you sit there in pure shock. Finally, Yunho bursts into laughter, wheezing. “NO WAY. DID YOU HEAR THAT?! Y/N, I BEAT YOU.”

Then, without hesitation, he tackles you in a hug, still giggling. “Our friendship is unbreakable now.”

↳ kang yeosang ⭐️

Yeosang does not move. He just slowly turns his head toward you, his face unreadable. After a long pause, he calmly says: “…Are you proud of yourself?”

Then, after another long pause, he just sighs, rubbing his temples. “…I want a refund.”

You open your mouth to apologize, but he cuts you off. “No, really. Was that your goal? To make me suffer? They stink like old man farts” He grips his scrunched nose.

Then, without warning, he sits up straight. “Fine. If I must suffer, then so must you.”

You blink. “…What?”

He closes his eyes, focusing. You gasp. “WAIT, YOU’RE NOT—”

“YES. I AM.”

After several tense seconds of silence, he finally opens his eyes and sighs. “…Never mind. I’m too classy for this.” You just hear him let out an evil laugh from the other side of the couch.

↳ choi san ⛰️

He starts fake coughing, rolling away from you like he’s been mortally wounded. “I trusted you! I let you into my heart! AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?!” He but his finger pretending he’s gunna faint.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS… diabolical smell” He says the last bit to himself still keeping his dramatic demeanour.

“…No. I refuse to be the only victim here.”

He sits up, looking weirdly determined, but soon slouching again pointing a finger towards you.

“No! I am the victim! You wanted to blow me away with that fart. Goodness” he chuckles at his comment and looks over at you.

You groan, hiding under a blanket, but he’s already crawling back, grinning. “Nah, we’re officially family now.” He nuzzles into you, whispering, “My little fart machine:3.”

↳ song mingi 🦖

Mingi literally jumps, his whole body jerking in shock. The smell hits him a second later, and he immediately starts fanning the air, panicking. “ARE WE UNDER ATTACK??!” He scrambles for safety, grabbing the nearest pillow to shield himself.

You bury your face in shame, but he just groans dramatically laughing in the process “Y/N I swear, I felt that in my SOUL.” He paused to think for another comeback “you just hit me with a nuclear bomb.”

“….i must fight back.“

He grits his teeth, focusing.

And then… it happens.

It’s loud. Brutal. World-ending.

Both of you sit in stunned silence.

Be bursts out laughing at his ground shaking fart (ya know the silent mingi laugh please do)

↳ jung wooyoung 🦊

Wooyoung freezes mid-breath. Then, his face contorts in slow-motion horror as he processes what just happened.

“…EXCUSE ME?”

You brace yourself, but it’s too late—he’s already grabbing his phone. “No, because this needs to be documented.”

“WOOYOUNG, NO—”

“YES.” He’s cackling, opening the group chat. “GUYS. YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.”

You lunge to steal his phone, but he just runs away, still laughing. You scream, finally tackling him, but he’s already laughing hysterically.

Then, suddenly—he pauses.

“…Wait.” His eyes narrow. “I’m farting back.”

He focuses so hard that his face turns red… but nothing happens.

“I guess I’m not as gassy as you” he grins as he earns a smack from you.

↳ choi jongho 🐻

Jongho immediately stops scrolling. He sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…”

You try to pretend it wasn’t you, but he glares, flapping his hand in front of his face. “Seriously? You let that bomb off right next to me?”

You whimper in embarrassment, but he’s already standing up, grabbing his jacket.

“Wait��where are you going?!”

He just glances at you, completely deadpan. “To rethink my life choices.” “Oh by the way you have green steam coming off of you” He teases laughing it his comment but shortly getting a punch on the arm by yourself.

“If we ever fall out I WILL use this as blackmail.” He grinned.

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mediocre-shark-tales · 2 days ago

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Abu Dhabi GP part 2

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Returning to the paddock in the morning, I made my way over to Max, my heart swelling with a mixture of excitement and happiness for him. As I approached him, I couldn’t help but notice the proud smile on his face, a grin that could light up the whole paddock. It wasn’t just the usual confidence I’d grown accustomed to seeing on him—it was something deeper, something more personal. He’d recently announced that he was going to be a father, and it was clear that the news had changed him.

“Max,” I called out, a grin pulling at the corners of my lips.

He turned toward me, his eyes brightening when he saw me approaching. “Hey, hey! You know, I was just waiting for you to come over. You’re one of the few people I’m actually letting say congrats first,” he teased, pulling me into a brief hug.

“I’ll take that as a big compliment,” I joked, my smile wide. “Congratulations, though. I know how big of a deal this is for you.”

“Thanks. It’s... well, it’s everything,” he said, his voice softening just for a moment. Then, as if the weight of his words hit him, he gave a playful shrug. “Guess it’s a whole new chapter, huh?”

“Definitely. I’m so happy for you, Max. You’re going to be an amazing dad.” I could feel my heart swell with warmth as I said it. He deserved all the happiness in the world, and knowing that he was about to experience this new chapter of life brought a contentment I hadn’t realized I needed.

He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous. But hey, if I can handle a racecar, I can handle another little one, right?”

“Of course,” I chuckled, reaching out and giving his shoulder a squeeze. “But seriously, you’ve got this. Just look how well you have done with P so far.”

I hung around for a bit longer, chatting with a few other drivers, congratulating them on their season’s success and the upcoming race. It was a strange feeling, moving through these conversations now. After everything that had happened, after the battle I’d fought, it felt like I had finally found a space where I truly belonged. I was part of this grid, not just as a competitor but as a person they respected. And that made all the difference.

Eventually, I excused myself from the small group and made my way to my driver’s room. The quiet space felt like a refuge, a place where I could let my thoughts settle and regain my focus before the next race.

Once inside, I took a deep breath, running my hands over the smooth surface of my helmet bag. It felt like a lifetime ago when I first started designing this helmet, trying to find the perfect way to express everything I was feeling, everything I had been through.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I unzipped the bag. The familiar smell of paint and resin greeted me, mixed with a slight trace of rubber from the tracks I’d raced on. Inside, my end-of-season helmet sat, waiting for me.

I lifted it out carefully, like it was a treasure, and set it gently on the desk. News design had always been personal, this time it was a mix of everything that had defined my season. The white background was a stark contrast to the intricate tiger stripes that adorned the sides. They weren’t just any stripes—each one was purposeful, a symbol of the tracks I’d conquered, the battles I’d fought, and the victories that had come from resilience.

Some of the stripes were just outlines, tracing the shape of the tiger’s face, while others filled in fully, their bold black lines representing the fierceness I had found in myself. The flags from each track where I’d finished first were woven into the design, carefully placed within the outline stripes. It was my way of paying homage to the races that had defined me this year—the places that had witnessed my comeback, the moments when I’d pushed through my hardest battles.

But it wasn’t just about the victories. There was a blank space at the top of the helmet, an empty void. Through it, the words “My Future is Racing” stood in bold letters, the promise of what lay ahead, what I was still striving for. It was my reminder that this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning.

And then, on the back, there was the large shadow of a gold turtle, the image filling the space with its quiet strength. The turtle, which had become something of a personal symbol for me over the last few months, sat there as a testament to my journey. Slow, steady, but always moving forward. Always evolving. But most importantly it was a symbol of my mother who would always be with me.

I ran my fingers over the intricate design, feeling the raised edges where the paint had hardened, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something close to peace. This helmet wasn’t just a piece of equipment—it was my story. Every stripe, every detail, every word and image had been a part of me, and now, it felt like it was ready to tell the world who I had become.

I stood there for a while, staring at it, letting the weight of the season settle on me. I had done it. I had survived. And now, I was stronger.

I reached over and grabbed the helmet again, holding it close to my chest for a moment. I had a race to prepare for. But more than that, I had a future that was just beginning, and I was ready to face it, no matter what came next.

The tension was palpable in the paddock as the grid lined up for the final race of the season. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the track, and the sound of engines roaring to life reverberated through the air. There was something almost electrifying about this race, as if the entire season had been building toward this moment. I could feel my pulse quickening, the adrenaline already starting to course through me. This was it—my final chance to prove to everyone, and more importantly to myself, that I belonged here.

As I sat in the cockpit of my car, I could hear the roar of the engines around me, but all I could focus on was the task at hand. The past was behind me; this race was a clean slate. I had nothing to prove to anyone but myself. I was ready. The lights went out, and we were off.

The first lap was a blur of motion, tire screeching, cars jostling for position. I rocketed off the line, weaving through the pack, feeling the g-forces pushing me back into my seat as I hit the first few corners. Every instinct I had honed this season kicked into overdrive, and I could feel the momentum building within me. I was so in the zone that I barely noticed the chaos unfolding ahead.

Max Verstappen and Oscar Piastri, two cars ahead of me, were engaged in a fierce battle for position when disaster struck. As they approached a tight corner, their cars locked wheels and slid out of control. Max’s car bumped into Oscar’s, sending both of them into a spin. It was like time slowed down as I saw them coming toward me, but in a split-second decision, I veered to the right, avoiding the wreckage by inches. My heart skipped a beat, but my focus never wavered. I couldn’t let this moment slip away from me.

With the first lap behind me, the adrenaline surged even higher. I was in the midst of the battle now, dodging traffic, threading the needle between cars, and making every pass count. I could feel every turn in my bones, the weight of each corner, the rush of acceleration on the straights. This was what I lived for. This was where I thrived.

The laps ticked by, each one blurring into the next as I pushed harder and harder. I was in P5 by the midway point, but the top four were just within reach. Lando Norris was in P3, looking steady as ever, and I could see Carlos Sainz just ahead in P2. But the car beneath me was coming alive, responding to every flick of my steering wheel. I knew I could do this.

With every corner, I reeled in the pack. I was finding my rhythm, my flow. I overtook car after car, my confidence growing with every successful pass. The crowd was roaring, their cheers reaching my ears even through the helmet, spurring me on. I pushed harder, trusting in the car, trusting in myself.

By lap 50, I had made my way into P2. Lando was just ahead of me, and though he was a formidable competitor, I could see the slightest hint of pressure in his driving. I wasn’t going to hold back now. The finish line was within reach, and all I had to do was give it everything I had.

As I came up behind him on the penultimate lap, I could hear his radio crackling with instructions, the team urging him to keep his pace steady. But I wasn’t going to let up. I lined up my move, staying tight behind him as we approached the final stretch. My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands steady on the wheel, my mind laser-focused. I had one chance.

With a burst of speed, I pulled out from behind him on the final straight, going for the inside line as we approached the final corner. My tires screamed against the tarmac, and I felt the car sliding slightly, but I held it together, cutting across the apex with precision. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as I passed Lando and shot into the lead.

Crossing the finish line in P1 was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The world seemed to come to a halt as I threw my fist up in victory, my heart hammering in my chest. I had done it. I had won my final Grand Prix of the season.

Lando came in right behind me in P2, and Carlos Sainz rounded out the podium in P3. The sound of the engines dying down was replaced by the roar of the crowd, their cheers shaking the very foundation of the circuit. The celebration was already underway, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming relief. This was my moment. This was what I had fought for.

I climbed out of the car, my hands shaking from the sheer intensity of it all. I stood on the halo, the crowd erupting into cheers. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, but it wasn’t until I saw the camera flashes and the thousands of fans shouting my name that I realized what this victory meant.

Landon reached me with a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Without saying a word, he handed me my new all-black cowboy hat. It wasn’t just any hat; this one had been decorated with Aston Martin green gemstones, perfectly matching the team’s gear. The contrast of the black hat with the vibrant green accents made it stand out, almost like it had its own presence.

I balanced the hat carefully on my helmet, trying not to mess up the celebratory moment. My fingers were still buzzing from the victory, but I felt a surge of joy when I grabbed the flag from Landon. The US flag. It was tied tightly to a pole, and as I waved it above my head, the crowd's energy seemed to intensify. Cameras flashed, capturing the moment from every angle, and I took a few seconds to savor the moment. This was my victory, and I was going to share it with everyone who had believed in me.

As the flashes slowed, I took the flag off the pole, the fabric still rippling in the wind, and handed it back to Landon. He smiled, nodding in approval, and I felt a sense of pride wash over me. But the real fun came next.

With a cheeky grin, I jumped off of the car, the adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. I unfurled the flag and draped it around myself like a cape, letting it fall over my shoulders as if I were some hero emerging from a battle. The colors of the flag were vivid and bold against the backdrop of the circuit, and I twirled a little, letting the fabric catch the breeze.

Lando came over first while I was removing my helmet and balaclava, his smile wide as he clapped me on the back. “You did it! You really did it!”

I grinned, barely able to contain my excitement. I placed the cowboy hat back on my head before responding sarcastically. “Yeah sure, I won a race again, But you my friend just won the constructors team championship!” I said, turning to give him a quick hug yet unable to contain my adrenaline as I bounced a little.

Finally we were on the podium and handed our awards. The US national Anthem echoed through the circuit before finally ending as the more exciting part came.

Carlos and I had whispered a small plan to each other beforehand. I was super excited to put our plan into action. I grabbed the bottle, shaking it up with a grin, and before Lando could even react, I drenched him in champagne just as Carlos did the same from my left. His laughter echoed through the air as I sprayed him from head to toe, the bubbles foaming up as he tried to shield himself. “You look great in champagne, Lando!” I laughed, my heart light with joy.

The crowd was still roaring, but there was something more important in that moment—the team had done it. McLaren had finally taken home the Constructors’ Championship, and Lando was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I can’t believe we finally did it!” he shouted, wrapping me in another hug. I laughed and quickly responded. “I am so proud of you and Oscar for finishing the fight so strong!”

Carlos joined the hug soon after, a proud smile on his face as we celebrated together. The atmosphere was electric, a mix of excitement, joy, and pride. This was what it was all about. It wasn’t just the individual victories—it was the team effort, the long road we had all traveled to get here.

I stood there, on the top step of the podium, looking out over the sea of fans who had witnessed the culmination of my rookie season. I had fought for this, and now, I was holding the trophy in my hands. It felt like the start of something incredible, the beginning of a journey that I couldn’t wait to continue.

But for now, I took a moment to let it all sink in. The cheers, the champagne, the podium—all of it. I had earned this. This was my victory, and it was only the beginning.

The post-race interview began, the energy in the room was electric. The top three finishers—Lando, Carlos, and me—sat side by side, basking in the glow of the race's excitement. The usual round of questions came through: How did you feel about the race? What was going through your mind during those final laps? It was light, easy stuff, designed to keep the mood celebratory.

But then, as expected, the big question came. The interviewer, a woman with a big smile and an even bigger curiosity, turned to me with a gleam in her eye.

"So," she began, "your helmet today was an interesting touch, hinting at something big for your future in racing. Any chance you’d like to share what’s next for you?"

The question hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of it. My eyes flicked over to my PR manager, who was standing off to the side, looking calm but focused. She gave a subtle nod, signaling that it was time.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself for the big reveal. "Yes," I said, the word hanging in the air as my heart raced. "I’ve signed a contract with Cadillac for 2026. I’ll be joining them when they enter the grid, but for the 2025 season, I’ll be loaned out to VCARB to help them finish strong in these current regulations before the big changes come. I’ll be working with them to help find the places they may want to improve while also helping train a driver they are thinking about making their reserve or 2026 driver. I can’t tell you more than that when it comes to VCARB as I don’t even know who they are basically asking me to mentor or what role I am mentoring him to do best.” That was a lie of course but I loved a little mystery and I am sure their media tema would love to keep some mystery still. “This is a huge step forward in my career, and I’m incredibly excited about what’s to come."

The moment I finished speaking, I felt a rush of emotions. There was relief in finally being able to share this chapter of my story, but there was also something else—hope, excitement, and pride.

Carlos, sitting next to me, let out a loud, joyous laugh. "Aha! That’s amazing!" he exclaimed, his usual smooth confidence replaced by genuine enthusiasm. "I’m so glad to hear that you’ll still be around! You’ve been a fierce competitor, and it’s going to be even better having you on the grid next season."

Lando, sitting on the other side of me, gave me a playful shove. "I knew you weren’t going anywhere," he teased, a grin on his face. "I would’ve missed you too much. Who else am I going to mess with during race weekends?"

I laughed, appreciating the lightheartedness they brought into the moment. "Well, now you have even more reason to train hard, huh?" I replied, smiling warmly at Lando who looked confused before I responded again. “Can’t mess with me if you aren’t on my level.” This caused laughs to erupt around the room, the most noticeably being Lando who covered his face in embarrassment.

"But seriously," Lando added, his voice softening just a little, "I’m really happy for you. You deserve this. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you next season."

Carlos nodded in agreement, his smile genuine. "You’re going to be a real asset to VCARB. We all know how tough it’s been for them, but with you there? They’ll definitely be making waves. And then, in 2026 with Cadillac, you’ll be unstoppable."

I smiled at both of them, feeling a deep sense of camaraderie. "Thanks, guys," I said, my heart full of gratitude. "Having you both here makes all of this even more special. You’ve been such great friends, and I couldn’t have asked for better people to share this journey with."

The interviewer smiled, clearly impressed by the camaraderie among us. "Sounds like the grid is about to get a lot more exciting with you around, huh?" I nodded, feeling the excitement bubbling up once again. "Definitely. It’s going to be a wild ride, but I’m ready for it. And I can’t wait to see how everything unfolds."

As the interview wrapped up and we stood to leave, Lando gave me a quick side hug. "See you out there, future Cadillac champion," he joked, winking at me.

Carlos gave me a fist bump, his eyes filled with respect. "We’ll be seeing you, no doubt. And you better bring that fire to the grid next season." The room seemed to buzz with energy as I sat smiling, the weight of the future feeling lighter now that I’d shared it with everyone.

The night was alive with energy, the celebrations wild and unrestrained as the entire paddock let loose. The adrenaline from the race still pumping through my veins, I couldn’t help but feel free, the weight of the past season finally starting to lift off my shoulders. People were cheering, laughing, dancing—everything was so vibrant, so alive. It felt like a world away from the intensity of the circuit, and for once, I let myself fully indulge in the freedom, the joy of it all.

Alcohol flowed like it was water, glasses clinking around me in toast after toast. I felt light, tipsy but happy, letting the music take over as I danced with my friends, lost in the excitement of the moment. I wasn’t thinking about the past. I wasn’t thinking about the things that had tried to break me. I was just living in the present, in this incredible victory.

But then, of course, as the night wore on, the crowds became a little more chaotic. People spilled out from the bars and clubs, mixing together in a sea of celebration. The music grew louder, the lights flashing in an almost hypnotic pattern. I had found Max earlier in the evening, sharing a laugh with him and a few others, but now, as I stood in the middle of the crowd, it became hard to spot him.

The buzz in the air shifted. I could feel it in my chest. My senses heightened. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe just the lingering unease that had followed me through the past season. But then I saw him.

A man—someone I didn’t recognize—was making his way through the crowd. His eyes locked onto mine, a smirk spreading across his face. Something about the way he looked at me made a shiver run down my spine. It was as if he knew something about me, something I didn’t want him to know.

His presence reminded me too much of Henry—the way he exuded a sense of control, a sense of entitlement. The way he was acting like I owed him something, like I was just another piece in a game he was playing. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my stomach twisted. I tried to brush it off, but the encounter left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I wanted to get away from him—fast.

In the crowd, I started moving, pushing through the throngs of people, my heart pounding a little too fast for comfort. But my vision kept flickering back to him, his eyes following me like a shadow. He wasn’t going to stop, I realized. He was going to keep coming closer, keep circling until I was backed into a corner.

Panic started to rise in me, a feeling I hadn’t let myself truly experience in a long time. I pushed through the crowd again, trying to find someone—anyone—to break the tension. That’s when I finally spotted Max again, or at least I thought I did. His familiar figure was just ahead, but in the chaos, I lost sight of him before I could reach him.

The frustration bubbled up. The fear mixed with confusion, and my mind started to race. I wasn’t about to let myself spiral again. Not now, not in front of everyone.

But just as I began to panic, my phone buzzed in my pocket, a lifeline in the midst of the crowd. I pulled it out quickly to check who it was—Lando. The message was simple: Where are you?

I felt my chest loosen a little, just knowing someone was looking for me. I typed back, trying to keep myself steady: lost in the crowd, send help lmao

Before I could type any more, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, ready to react. But it wasn’t the man from before. It was Franco, a look of concern on his face as he pulled me into a quick, tight hug.

“You good?” he asked softly, his voice steady, calming, like a balm to the rising anxiety in my chest.

I nodded, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

Franco didn’t let go of me, but his presence was grounding. I felt the tension in my body begin to ease, even if just a little. “I know something has affected you but I am here now, you don’t have to say anything, I’m just here,” he murmured into my ear as he gave me a small soft hug.

I pulled back just enough to see his face. “Thanks,” I said quietly, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else—something warm, safe.

But before I could say anything more, another voice cut in. Lando had appeared from behind Franco, his usual cheeky grin on his face, though it didn’t hide the concern in his eyes. “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, his tone light but with an underlying edge of worry.

“I’m fine… now, I’m fine now that you two are here with me.” I replied, allowing myself to be honest with them. The past few minutes had left me feeling rattled, but now, with Franco and Lando here, I couldn’t help but feel a little more secure.

“You know we’ve got your back, right?” Lando added, his expression serious for a moment. “We’re not letting you out of our sight again.”

I smiled, the tension in my body slowly dissipating as I realized just how lucky I was to have people like them looking out for me. They didn’t have to care, didn’t have to be there for me like this. But they were.

Franco stepped back slightly, glancing between Lando and me. “We’re staying with you tonight. No arguments.”

And somehow, even though I was the one who was supposed to be strong, it was exactly what I needed to hear. It wasn’t about being strong on my own. It was about knowing I had people to lean on.

Lando wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and Franco placed his hand on the middle of my back, both offering me a kind of comfort that, despite my earlier unease, made everything feel a little bit better. We walked together through the crowd, the sounds of celebration continuing around us. And as I walked through the crowd with Franco and Lando flanking me, I realized just how far I had come—and how much further I was ready to go.

The crowd around us was cheering, music was blasting, and the air was thick with excitement. Yet, amidst all the noise and the chaos, I found myself focusing on the quiet moments between Lando and I, those small exchanges where our eyes locked just a little too long or where the corners of our mouths twitched upward at the same time.

Lando’s presence was comforting, grounding in a way I hadn’t expected. Since the Vegas crash, he had been there, providing an anchor when I needed it most. Now, celebrating together felt… different. I couldn’t help but wonder if something deeper was quietly blooming between us. I caught his eye as a slow song began, and for a second, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade. I smiled, and he returned it with that knowing grin that made my heart race. It felt almost like an unspoken connection, a quiet bond that neither of us had put words to, but one that was palpable all the same.

Before I could dwell on it for too long, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I found Franco standing there, grinning widely. "Hey, I just wanted to say, that race—was incredible," he said, his eyes alight with admiration. There was something in the way he said it, like he was seeing me in a new light.

"Thanks," I replied, my voice softening as I looked at him. "It felt like everything finally clicked today."

Franco nodded, his eyes not leaving mine. "Yeah, I could see that. You’ve come a long way." His gaze lingered a little longer, and I couldn’t help but feel the warmth between us. It wasn’t just the celebration, it wasn’t just the race—it was something unspoken that seemed to grow stronger the longer we stood there.

For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The world around us slowed, the noise dimmed, and all that mattered was the shared understanding between us. But just as I was about to say something, the spell was broken.

From behind, I heard an all-too-familiar voice—drunken and loud—"Oi! What’s going on here?" Liam stumbled into our little bubble, his eyes narrowed, and a playful but protective smirk on his face. "Don’t think I didn’t see that, Y/N. What do you think you’re doing, huh?" His tone was teasing, but there was an edge of possessiveness in it.

I let out a small laugh, but before I could say anything, Hannah appeared beside him, her expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Liam," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "you’re drunk. Let them be." She turned to me, her eyes softening. "Can you talk some sense into him? He’s been talking about you like you’re his lost puppy for the past half hour."

Liam pouted, his arms crossed over his chest. "I’m not drunk!" he protested, but his slurred speech said otherwise. "I’m just looking out for my best mate here. You can’t just steal her away, boys." He pointed to Lando and then Franco, who each raised an eyebrow in response but remained silent, clearly amused by the situation.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "Liam, I’m not being stolen away. I’m not sure I could be stolen if I tried," I said with a playful wink. But my words only seemed to confuse him more.

Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "Just, come on. Let’s get you something to drink so you can calm down before you make a fool of yourself." She turned to me and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about this."

Liam’s pout deepened, but he finally let Hannah lead him away, though he shot me one last confused glance. As he stumbled off with her, I turned back to Lando and Franco, who were both watching me with soft smiles on their faces.

"Don’t worry," I said to them, shaking my head with a laugh. "Liam’s just protective. He’s like a big brother who doesn’t know how to share his toys."

Franco laughed, but there was a knowing look in his eyes as he added, "Well, it seems like you’ve got a lot of people looking out for you."

Lando chimed in, his voice teasing, "Guess that’s a good thing, huh? Just be careful—Liam might come back and try to hide you away in some hidden sanctuary."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile forming on my lips. "Let him try."

The moment was lighthearted, but something about it made my heart flutter. Lando, Franco, and even Liam—though drunk and ridiculous—had all been there in their own ways. It felt like more than just a victory in the race. It felt like a new chapter was unfolding in ways I hadn’t expected.

Helping Liam back to the hotel room was no easy feat. The moment we stepped into the hallway, his weight became a deadweight. Hannah and I shared a look of exasperation, but underneath it, there was an unspoken bond that made this all feel oddly familiar. We had done this before, back when Liam had first been called up to F1. His excitement and nerves had been a mixture of pure joy and overwhelming tension, and we'd found ourselves stumbling through late-night talks and drunken strolls across hotel corridors more times than I could count.

Tonight, though, the mood was different. He was drunk, but there was something behind his eyes, something deeper, that made the whole situation feel heavier than it should. We had been so used to his joking nature, the sarcasm and laughter, but tonight—well, tonight, he was different.

I smiled at Hannah as she helped support Liam's other side. "Remember when he got that call? The one to race in F1? He was practically shaking, and we couldn’t even get him to eat dinner that night."

Hannah chuckled softly, her eyes softening with the memory. "How could I forget? I thought he was going to throw up just from the excitement. He didn’t sleep for two days."

I let out a quiet laugh as we managed to shuffle him into the hotel room. Liam was mumbling, half incoherent, and definitely not in the mood for a joke now. The energy in the room had shifted, the weight of the night sinking in with the silence that followed.

When we finally got him onto the bed, we let him flop onto his back, the bed creaking under the shift of his weight. He let out a loud sigh, his eyes blinking rapidly as if trying to focus on the ceiling before ultimately falling onto me. But there was no humor now in his face. Only something deep and aching.

Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, watching him with concern. I stood near the door, waiting, unsure of what was coming next. I was ready to laugh it off, ready to tell him that he was just drunk, and it would all be fine in the morning—but then, something in the way he stared at me stopped me.

"Liam?" I said softly, my voice low, trying to gauge where his mind was at.

He turned his head slowly, blinking at us like he was seeing us for the first time. The tears welled up in his eyes, and my heart dropped. He wasn’t drunk in a carefree way anymore. This was something deeper, something raw, and it made me uneasy.

"I… I need to say something," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I… I’m so sorry."

I frowned, stepping closer to the bed, sitting down beside Hannah. "Liam, what are you talking about?"

His face twisted, his hands trembling as he reached up to rub his eyes. "I—when I caused the crash in Vegas, I—" He let out a shaky breath. "I thought I… I thought I just—hurt you. Or worse… killed you, Y/N."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn't expected this. He had always been the jokester, the guy who tried to keep everything light, but now—now I could see the weight of the guilt and fear he had been carrying for the last month. His words were slurred, but the meaning behind them cut straight to my core.

"Liam," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, trying to keep the crack out of it, "It was an accident. You didn’t mean for that to happen."

His eyes locked with mine, full of guilt and pain. "But I did cause it. I never should’ve been that aggressive during a practice session. I saw you flipping… I saw you, and I thought—" His breath caught in his throat, and his voice faltered. "I thought I just ruined everything. I thought I lost you forever."

The weight of his words hung in the air like a thick fog, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. The racing world could be so harsh, but I had never realized just how much it affected the people closest to me.

I reached out, my hand gently resting on his shoulder. "Liam, listen to me. I’m here. I’m okay," I said softly, trying to reassure him even though I wasn’t sure if I was comforting him or myself in the process. "That crash—it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. Nothing more."

"But I still felt it," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Every time I see you, I’m reminded of how close I came to losing you."

Hannah sat quietly beside him, her eyes soft and full of understanding. She knew what this meant. She had been through this with Liam before. The weight of racing, the pressure of what we do, and the responsibility that came with it, often left us carrying invisible scars that nobody else could see.

"You need to forgive yourself," Hannah said gently, her hand squeezing his. "It wasn’t your fault, Liam. You’re one of the best people we know, and this is just… one of those things that happened. You can’t carry it forever."

I nodded in agreement, my voice steady now. "You’re not alone in this, Liam. You never were. You’ll never lose me. Not like that."

He closed his eyes, a few tears slipping out. He didn’t say anything more, but I could see the relief slowly washing over him. The guilt, the fear, all of it—it wasn’t going to go away in an instant, but maybe this was the first step toward healing.

"I’m sorry," he mumbled again, his voice barely a whisper. "I just didn’t want to lose you."

"You haven’t," I reassured him. "And you won’t."

We sat there for a few more minutes, letting the weight of the moment settle in. Hannah continued to comfort him, and I stayed close, watching the man who had been there for me through thick and thin slowly let go of the burden he had been carrying for far too long.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered shut, and the alcohol seemed to lull him into a fitful sleep, his body relaxing into the bed. The room was silent for a moment, save for his steady breathing.

I leaned back, letting out a soft sigh. "He’ll be okay," I said to Hannah, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.

She nodded, her eyes soft. "He will be. You’ve got each other."

And in that moment, with the faint hum of the hotel air conditioning and the quiet of the night around us, I felt a sense of calm I once never thought possible. Being here with my two childhood friends, sharing a moment that reminded each of us, just how much we were willing to do for each other. "I’m here, Liam," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. "And I always will be."