#i love having a friend with the same sense of humor as me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ye4gerz · 19 days ago

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my game, your rules. — ldh part two

‧˚⭒ pairing: lee donghyuck x afab reader 18+MDNI ‧˚⭒ genre: brothers best friend au! fake dating! friends to lovers! humor! fluff! angst! smut! adult life au! jenos sister! flirty hc! ‧˚⭒ word count: 6.5k+ ‧˚⭒ cw: lots of smut towards the end. dirty talking, raw sex, reader has to talk on the phone while getting railed lmao. drinking. spitting. hyuck turns into a dom. ‧˚⭒ summary: you’re fed up with your family constantly telling you how to live your life, but what would they think if you showed up with your brother’s best friend as your new boyfriend? even worse—what happens when you realize you’re actually falling for him?

‧˚⭒ a/n: thank you for your patience guys! if you haven’t already, pls comment to let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist for the rest of the series. enjoy!

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You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of you. The spreadsheet was a mess of numbers that no longer made sense, blurring together like static.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked and looked up to see Renjun leaning against the edge of your desk, an incredulous expression on his face.

“What’s got you so distracted today?”

You shot him a glare and grabbed your coffee, taking a deliberate sip. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

“Sure,” he teased, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “Well, whoever he is, he’s doing a great job living in your head rent-free.”

You choked mid-sip, nearly spilling the coffee in the process. “There’s no he! I told you—I’m just tired!”

Renjun’s chuckle echoed through the office as you slumped back in your chair, muttering curses under your breath.

That was just the kind of work relationship you had with Renjun—teasing, sarcastic, and occasionally helpful, though you’d never admit that last part. He’d been a mutual friend of Karina’s, and luckily for you, she’d used her connections to get you into the company.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with our marketing proposals, feel free to keep daydreaming,” he said with a shake of his head, clearly amused.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. The last thing you needed was to get distracted at work. The past few weeks had been a relentless cycle of trying to prove yourself, dragging your name into meetings, and praying the higher-ups would finally take you seriously.

Renjun had already managed to make himself known. Despite being in the same intern program, he’d been invited to several major meetings while you were stuck at your desk, double-checking numbers and responding to emails no one cared about.

So when your boss finally invited you to sit in on a big meeting tomorrow, you knew you couldn’t mess this up. This was it. This was everything you’d been hoping for—a chance to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of more than spreadsheets and inbox cleanup.

And yet, here you were, staring at your monitor while your thoughts drifted elsewhere. To Haechan.

You and Haechan had officially planned a day for him to meet your family—as your boyfriend, that is. They were already familiar with him, given all the times he’d tagged along with Jeno. Now they were curious, eager to see this new side of him.

The closer the day came, the more nervous you grew. As if sensing your anxiety, Haechan spent more time with you, lingering around whenever you got home from work.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you grumbled, half-heartedly trying to shoo him away as he lounged on your couch.

He didn’t budge, grinning up at you. “I’ve got a couple of ideas in mind, but you’d probably kill me.” His gaze flickered up and down, far too obvious for your liking.

Your face immediately warmed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself now,” you snapped, your voice rising an octave.

Haechan shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “So what’s the game plan? We show up for dinner, gush about how madly in love we are, and then dip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Something like that.”

But his teasing faltered when he noticed the subtle shift in your demeanor—the way your shoulders tensed, your fingers fidgeting at your sides. His tone softened. “What’s on your mind right now?”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the floor. “I have this really important meeting at work tomorrow—it could make or break everything for me,” you admitted, biting your lip. “Then there’s the dinner we need to plan, and after that, I have to come up with a way for us to pretend–break up. I’m still giving Jeno updates on this whole mess while trying to find my own place in case he actually does want me to leave. I haven’t even seen Karina since the arcade, and on top of all that, my coworker is depending on me not to screw up this presentation.”

You paused, exhaling heavily. “So why does it feel like all I keep doing is ruining things for myself?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop yourself. You froze mid-rant, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t be unloading all of this on you.”

Haechan’s expression softened, concern replacing his usual playfulness. “Hey,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’m your best friend—well, besides Karina, of course—but you can always open up to me.”

Before you could protest, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a gentle hug. He swayed you slightly, one hand rubbing the top of your head in a soothing rhythm.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he said quietly, his voice steady and warm. “It’s okay to be worried. Just remember to take small steps before you try to jump ahead of yourself. Don’t stress about the dinner—leave that all to me, okay? Same goes for Jeno and everything that comes after. Let me take that burden off your shoulders.”

You looked up at him, your chin resting against his chest. “Are you sure? I’m the one who put you in this position in the first place.”

“Nonsense,” he chuckled, his gaze meeting yours. “This was my idea, remember? We do this, and you get to live an easier life. I’ll make sure of that.” He leaned down slightly, the corners of his lips lifting into a soft, reassuring smile. “I promise to make this life less of a burden for you, pretty girl.”

Your breath caught, the words hitting you harder than you expected. Suddenly, you became acutely aware of everything—the closeness, the warmth of his embrace, the faint brush of his breath against your skin.

You gulped, your heart thudding a little too loudly in your chest. What are you doing?

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes lingered on yours, unreadable but intense, and it sent a wave of nervous energy rushing through you. You couldn’t fall for this. You wouldn’t.

Pulling back ever so slightly, you cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “Thanks, Hyuck. I mean it.”

“Anytime,” he replied softly, his hands lingering at your sides before he finally let you go.

As he stepped back, you busied yourself with brushing imaginary lint off your clothes, anything to distract yourself from the fact that you’d just felt safe in his arms and that it scared you more than anything else.

“I have an idea,” he proposed, leaning slightly closer with that familiar spark in his eyes.

You sighed lightheartedly, already wary. “You and your ideas.”

He only grinned, unfazed. “This one’s a real one, I promise. How does this sound? I’ll order us takeout, and I’ll help you practice for your presentation.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his offer, and you paused, caught off guard. He noticed it too, his gaze softening as he watched you process your thoughts.

“No silliness, I swear,” he added quickly, raising one hand in mock oath while the other rested dramatically over his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

You looked at him then—really looked at him. His playful smirk had faded just enough to reveal something else underneath; a quiet determination to make sure you were okay, to make sure this went smoothly for you.

And just like that, you couldn’t resist.

“Fine,” you relented with a small smile. “But you’re paying for the takeout.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal. You get to choose what we’re ordering, by the way. I’m generous like that.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny it; takeout did sound good, and maybe, just maybe, his help wouldn’t be so bad. Even if he did goof around here and there.

By the time the takeout arrived, you were already seated on the couch, laptop open and presentation slides pulled up. Haechan set the food on the coffee table, making himself comfortable beside you.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “We eat, you present, and I give you my expert-level feedback.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Expert-level?”

“Hey, I’ve sat through enough of Jeno’s late-night study sessions to know how these things work,” he replied, smirking as he unwrapped his food. “Besides, I’m a very tough crowd.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, but you better be serious about this.”

“I’m always serious when it counts,” he shot back, and something about the way he said it made your heart flutter just a little.

With your nerves settling slightly, you took a deep breath and began walking through your presentation. As you spoke, pointing at graphs and summarizing your key points, Haechan listened intently, nodding in all the right places. It was a side of him you didn’t see often—focused, attentive, and surprisingly serious.

“Okay, pause,” he said after you finished your first run-through, leaning forward with an earnest expression. “First off, you sounded confident, which is good, but here—” he gestured to one of the slides—“you lost me a little. The numbers are strong, but you need to explain why they matter. Connect them to your main point more clearly.”

You blinked at him, genuinely surprised. “That’s… actually really helpful.”

“I told you I’m good at this,” he teased, but his tone remained gentle. “Let’s go over that section again, and this time, think of it as telling a story. Hook them in.”

For the next hour, you practiced, tweaking your phrasing and pacing as Haechan offered thoughtful critiques between bites of food. He was playful enough to keep you relaxed but serious when it mattered, pointing out where you could improve and hyping you up when you nailed a section. It also helped mid way when Jeno came home to find you two together, he kept his distance and comments to himself, but couldn’t help to smile as he made his way to his room.

“See?” Haechan said finally, sitting back with a proud grin. “You’re gonna kill it tomorrow.”

You let out a deep breath, smiling despite yourself. “Thanks, Hyuck. I mean it.”

“Anytime, pretty girl,” he replied softly, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long before he stood to clean up. “Now go get some rest. You’ve got this.”

The next morning, you walked into the conference room with your laptop tucked under your arm and your heart pounding in your chest. The senior executives were already seated at the long table, their expressions unreadable as they greeted you politely.

Renjun shot you a reassuring smile from the corner of the room, mouthing a quick “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, you set up your presentation, your fingers shaking slightly as you clicked to the first slide. You can do this, you reminded yourself.

Haechan’s voice echoed in your mind: “Hook them in. Tell a story.”

And so you did.

You began strong, your voice steady as you introduced the proposal. You outlined the key strategies you and Renjun had developed, seamlessly weaving data into a clear narrative. As you reached the section where you’d stumbled the night before, you found yourself explaining the numbers with confidence, emphasizing their relevance with ease.

The executives nodded along, some even jotting down notes as you spoke. You caught glimpses of interest in their expressions—raised brows, subtle nods—little victories that spurred you on.

By the time you reached the conclusion, your pulse had slowed, your confidence solid.

“And that concludes our proposal,” you finished, meeting the eyes of the room. “Thank you for your time.”

For a beat, there was silence, and the anxiety you’d pushed down began to creep back up—until the senior manager at the head of the table smiled.

“Well done,” she said, closing her folder. “That was clear, concise, and well-executed. This has real potential. We’ll discuss further details and get back to you.”

You blinked, stunned for a moment, before nodding. “Thank you,” you managed, relief washing over you.

Renjun met you at the door once the meeting ended, grinning from ear to ear. “You nailed it!”

“Really?” you breathed, a smile breaking across your face.

“Really,” he confirmed. “They looked impressed.”

As you made your way back to your desk, you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. You’d done it. The meeting you’d stressed over for weeks—you’d nailed it.

You pulled out your phone under your desk, typing out a quick message.

You: killed the meeting. you’re the best fake boyfriend ever.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed with a reply.

HC: i’m not surprised. told you you’d kill it. go ahead, admit that i’m your good luck charm ;)

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head, deciding to give in to his antics.

You: fine, you’re the best fake boyfriend and greatest good luck charm i could ever ask for. does that sound better?

HC: that’s what i like to hear, baby.

“Here’s to being a full-time marketing assistant!” you cheered, clinking your shot glass against Haechan’s, the two of you seated in the cozy corner of a dimly lit restaurant.

It hadn’t been long since the presentation day and you were pulled into the senior manager’s office alongside Renjun. The memory still felt surreal—her sharp, confident voice replaying in your head as if it had just happened.

“You two have something the team can really benefit from,” she had said, smiling as if she already knew how much this meant to you. “We incorporated some of your ideas from the previous presentation into the current project, and the feedback has been astonishing. We’d like to offer both of you full-time entry positions and officially put you in charge of strategies moving forward.”

Joy didn’t even begin to cover it. Renjun and yourself had accepted immediately, emotions bubbling over as you practically floated out of her office, and then she called you back.

“Your growth here since you first started has been remarkable,” she’d said, her words lingering with unexpected warmth. “Continue to keep up the good work.”

The encouragement had sent you over the moon. The grin on your face hadn’t faded since.

Now, here you were—celebrating over dinner with Haechan. It was his idea, of course. He’d texted you the moment you told him the news, insisting you couldn’t let something this big slide by without a proper celebration.

Prior to the dinner, you had grabbed your coat and prepared to meet Haechan, your phone buzzed. It was Karina.

Karina: CONGRATULATIONS ON THE PROMO BABE!! how are we celebrating tonight?!

You sighed, leaning against the wall as you typed back quickly, realizing you’ve been so busy with Haechan, you never got around to telling her what’s really going on.

You: thank you babe!!! and about that… i’m actually going out to dinner.. with haechan lmao.

The three dots appeared immediately.

Karina: HAECHAN?! as in jeno’s best friend haechan?? the same guy who’s always flirting with you, haechan???

Biting your lip, you debated what to tell her. For a brief moment, you considered lying, but Karina was your best friend. If anyone deserved the truth, it was her.

You hit the call button instead, knowing a text wouldn’t do it justice.

“I swear, it’s not what you think,” you started the moment she picked up.

“What?! I was just starting to get excited!” Karina replied, her voice sharp with curiosity. “Explain yourself.”

“It’s… complicated,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. “Haechan and I are fake dating. Just for a while.”

There was silence on the other end. Then: “You’re WHAT?”

“It’s a long story,” you rushed on before she could interrupt. “My family’s been nagging me to get my life together, so Haechan offered to pretend to be my boyfriend. It’s nothing real—we’re just buying me some time until they get off my back.” you lower your tone, thanking God, Jeno was gaming in the other room, unable to hear you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said flatly. “This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done.”

“I know,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But it’s working. Sort of.”

Karina sighed dramatically, though you could hear the smile in her voice. “Okay, but if you catch feelings, I’m saying ‘I told you so’ first. Good luck surviving a fake relationship with someone who’s totally into you.”

After hanging up and adjusting your coat, you took one final look at yourself in the mirror. If there was anyone who would tell it like it is, it was Karina. As much as she swore Haechan was into you, a small voice in the back of your mind insisted you were overthinking it. Maybe he just wanted some fun.

You couldn’t ignore the facts. Based on his past relationships, Haechan had always jumped from one person to another, or things simply didn’t work out at all. He’d brushed it off before, claiming those weren’t real relationships—just distractions to keep him occupied, but that was years ago, before the two of you had grown closer as friends.

Since then, he’d been single. So what if this “fake relationship” was just his way of chasing the thrill he used to have? A perfect opportunity for fun without the mess of commitment.

The thought settled uncomfortably in your chest, but you pushed it away, letting out one last sigh before stepping out to meet him.

You’d briefly considered telling Jeno about your big news—maybe even inviting him out to celebrate—but the thought quickly passed. The last thing you wanted was to hear yet another lecture or feel the weight of someone else rushing your success. Tonight was about you, and for once, you wanted peace.

If there was anyone you’d rather spend the night celebrating with, it was Haechan. That alone felt like more than enough.

“You didn’t have to go all out like this,” you said, gesturing toward the table, where your favorite dishes sat alongside the drinks he’d ordered for both of you.

“I absolutely did,” Haechan replied, pouring you another shot, his grin smug but genuine. “You’re a big shot now, Miss Genius Full-Timer. I figured it’s only fair to treat you like one.”

You snorted, shaking your head, but you couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “A genius, huh? I’ll remind you of that next time you call me boring for working late.”

He laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Fair enough, but seriously, I’m proud of you. You worked your ass off for this, you deserve it.”

His words caught you off guard. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it—softly, earnestly, without a hint of his usual teasing tone. You stared at him for a moment, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in your chest.

“Thanks, Hyuck,” you said quietly, and for a second, you let yourself sit in the moment.

Of course, Haechan couldn’t let things stay serious for too long. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now,” he teased, raising his shot glass with a wink. “To the coolest, smartest, and prettiest girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

The verbiage caught you off guard, wondering if he meant to say it like that. You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re the one drinking with me, so what does that say about you?”

You shook your head, raising your glass anyway. “To me, I guess.”

“To you,” he echoed, clinking his glass against yours once more.

The two of you lingered at the restaurant longer than you expected, your conversations flowing easily between teasing banter and genuine moments of reflection. Haechan had a way of making you forget about the pressure—of making even the most overwhelming days feel a little less heavy.

When the bill arrived, you instinctively reached for your purse, but he waved you off with a look of mock offense. “Put that away. I told you this was my treat.”

“Haechan, you really don’t have to—”

“I’ll start a tab and make Jeno pay if you keep arguing,” he cut in smoothly, flashing that infuriating grin of his. “Let me have my moment.”

You sighed but relented, tucking your wallet back into your bag. “Okay… but I’m paying next time.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, standing up and holding your coat out for you like a gentleman.

As the two of you walked out into the crisp night air, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Haechan noticed immediately. It could be the buzz from the drinks you two shared but something about being in his presence was better than anything else.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, though you couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips. “It’s just… tonight was really nice. I needed it.”

His teasing expression softened into something warmer. “Anytime, beautiful.”

You looked away, suddenly too aware of how close he was as you walked side by side. Your heart fluttered for reasons you refused to admit to yourself, and you cursed the way he always managed to affect you without even trying.

It’s just Hyuck, you reminded yourself. This is just part of the plan.

As your hands brushed against each other, his fingers found yours. For a moment, you blamed it on the alcohol, but when neither of you pulled away, your fingers interlocked naturally. Haechan smiled at you—soft, content, and just a little smug. At that moment, you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince anymore.

“Wanna come over to my place?” he asked casually, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” you replied with a soft grin, “as long as it’s clean this time.”

He groaned dramatically. “That was one time! I’ll have you know my place is spotless these days.” He paused, grinning smugly. “If you don’t believe me, I can show you how clean my bed is.”

“Nice try,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you nudged him playfully. “Good luck with that.”

Even as you teased him, you didn’t let go of his hand, and neither did he.

His place was definitely a lot cleaner than you remembered—actually, it felt more spacious too. Haechan took your coat from you with a small smile, letting you bask in the warmth and comfort of his apartment.

“Told you so,” he said smugly as he hung your coat up.

“You planned this out, didn’t you?” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He chuckled, the sound low and easy. “Yeah, sure, baby.”

There he went again, throwing out those pet names when they were completely unnecessary. You rolled your eyes, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did.

You made your way to the couch, settling in as Haechan returned with two glasses of wine, setting them carefully on the coffee table. “More alcohol to celebrate,” he announced, flashing you a grin as he sat down beside you.

“So what show are you feeling?” he asked, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close but not quite touching you.

You glanced around his apartment, your eyes catching on his speakers. Bringing the glass to your lips for a small sip, you made a suggestion instead. “How about we just listen to music and talk?”

Haechan paused for a moment before nodding, a smirk pulling at his lips. “That’s why you’re the genius—you come up with all the good ideas.” He shot you a wink before moving to connect his phone to the speaker.

Soft R&B melted into the room, filling the air with an atmosphere that felt too intimate, too comfortable. Haechan returned to his spot next to you, a little closer this time, the space between you barely there. His arm slid along the back of the couch, and you could feel the warmth of him radiating beside you.

“What’s on your mind tonight?” he asked softly, his voice so casual yet so deliberate.

Him.

If you were being honest, it was all him—the tension that had been building between you two, the countless hours spent together that made the line between friendship and something more blurrier by the day. You’d felt it in the way his teasing turned softer, in the glances that lingered a beat too long.

Now, sitting here with his deep brown eyes meeting yours, you couldn’t deny it. The way his lips looked so… desirable. The way his hair fell perfectly against his forehead, sometimes parting in that effortlessly cute way. Or the fact that half the time, you forgot what he was saying because you’d gotten distracted staring at the faint moles scattered across his face.

You swallowed thickly and told yourself it was just the alcohol talking.

You licked your lips nervously, unable to stop your gaze from flickering to his mouth as you shifted on the couch. “Can I ask you something?” you murmured.

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation, his stare deepening as he looked at you.

You exhaled softly, your fingers tightening around your wine glass. “Why all the pet names? I mean, Jeno’s not here, so who are we trying to fool?” Your voice was steady, but your eyes betrayed you—they lingered on his lips, no matter how much you fought it.

Haechan noticed. Of course he noticed.

He shifted closer, the arm behind you dipping lower until you could feel his presence surrounding you. “Who said anything about wanting to fool around?” he asked, his voice dropping to something almost husky.

You blinked at him, breath hitching as the room suddenly felt much smaller.

“What if I like it?” he continued, his lips a breath away from yours now. “What if I mean all of it? Would that be a problem, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t look away—couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Your gaze fell to his mouth as your pulse raced, and then you felt it; the careful weight of his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers light but deliberate.

Your breath stuttered, and you looked down, hyper aware of every single point of contact between the two of you.

This wasn’t really happening, was it? But as Haechan tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, you weren’t so sure anymore.

"I asked you a question," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with intent. His hands slid slowly toward your waist, fingers brushing against your skin in a way that left you breathless.

"But.. we’re just friends—shit—Donghyuck..." you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea as his hands gripped your waist firmly, his breath hot against the sensitive curve of your neck.

"Just tell me this isn't what you want, and I'll stop," he whispered, his tone soft but urgent. "Baby, can I touch you? Is this okay?"

His pleading eyes never left yours, and the vulnerability in them sent your heart racing.

The goosebumps on your skin were undeniable, and any lingering sense of shame had long since dissolved.

Your mind felt like a chaotic blur, thoughts sprinting faster than you could keep up. One moment, the two of you had been laughing over dinner, and now you were practically under him, struggling to remember how to breathe.

"Yes," you confessed. your voice is small, shaky but sure. "Please... continue," you begged, your words barely above a whisper.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his lips just before he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.

The kiss started slow, deep but measured, like he was savoring every second, every taste, as if this might be his last chance. His hands explored your body with an intensity that made your skin burn, like his touch was the only thing grounding him to this moment.

Your body felt alive, every nerve ending ignited as desire pulsed through you. You didn't care that this was the same Haechan you had sworn weeks ago was just a friend.

Right now, all you cared about was the way he made you feel-the way you wanted him, desperately and without hesitation.

As the kiss grew heavier, your confidence swelled. You pushed him back slightly, straddling his lap, your hands finding the hem of your shirt. In one quick motion, you tugged it off, tossing it aside before glancing down at him breathless.

His dark, hungry gaze roamed over your newly exposed skin, his lips parting as his chest rose and fell heavily. "Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "You have no idea how many times I've dreamt of this."

His eyes lingered on every curve, taking you in like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Heat rushed to your face, a flush rising from a combination of the wine and the shy vulnerability creeping back in. Instinctively, you shifted to hide yourself, but his hands shot up, gripping your wrists gently but firmly.

"No, no, baby," he said, shaking his head. His voice softened, his gaze steady and filled with adoration. "Don't hide from me. Don't ever be shy about a body this beautiful."

Before you could protest, his lips descended on your skin, planting slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of your shoulder, down your collarbone, and across the sensitive expanse of your chest.

The contact was electrifying. Every kiss, every graze of his lips sent a spark of pleasure shooting through your veins. His tongue flicked against your skin, and as he tugged your bra off with a practiced ease, tossing it somewhere out of sight, the rest of your inhibitions melted away.

"God," he groaned against your skin, his voice muffled but filled with need.

His arms wrapped around you, lifting you with ease. The sudden movement made you gasp, your legs instinctively tightening around him.

Haechan carried you to his room, his lips never straying far from yours as he kicked the door open. He placed you down on the bed with care, hovering over you as his hands worked swiftly to rid you of the rest of your clothes.

His gaze darkened as he drank in the sight of you, bare and vulnerable beneath him.

"You're perfect," he said, almost to himself, as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours again with an urgency that left you breathless.

His hands roamed your body, his touch igniting every inch of your skin, and as his own clothes joined the pile on the floor, all you could think was how badly you needed him.

“You’re always trying to deny me, but look at this,” he proceeds to hold your legs apart, his fingers slowly grazing against your core, covering them in your wetness as you let out a groan.

He hovers over you once more—shoving his fingers in your mouth. “So fucking wet for me and I haven’t even fucked you yet. Go ahead baby, taste yourself for me.”

You ran your tongue along his soaked fingers, savoring every trace of yourself before sucking on them greedily. When your taste was no longer there, all you could think about was wanting to taste him instead.

“Fuck,” he curses out, his eyes watching as you take his fingers between your lips. His cock starts twitching when your tongue starts lapping against them.

“Please, Hyuck..” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need.

“Speak up,” he grabs you by your thighs and yanks you closer to his mouth. “Tell me what you want and how you want it.”

“I... I want to feel your mouth please. Please, Hyuck, I want you to fuck me,” you look down and find his eyes locked on you, looking nearly possessed.

You felt his breath against your cunt as he let out a low laugh laced with something dark. Before you could say anything— he laps his tongue slowly against your entrance, making sure to savor every part of you.

“Holy fuck…” you gasped, the pressure and intensity building as his pace quickened. Who would’ve guessed your best friend had such a way with his mouth?

The lewd sounds of your cunt get louder as he shoves two fingers inside of you, and he begins sucking on your clit. He gave you no time to catch your breath, keeping his relentless pace until he finally found your sweet spot, making you squirm.

“Tastes so fucking good—I should’ve done this the first time I laid eyes on you. Look at you, my pretty girl is going crazy while I fuck you with just my fingers,” he fastens his pace against your spot and starts attacking your swollen clit with his tongue again.

You swore on your life you saw stars—and you hadn’t even finished yet. Your body was teetering on the edge, the feeling overwhelming, when suddenly he stopped.

Your head snapped towards his bedside table, the moment interrupted by the buzz of your phone vibrating against the wood. The flashing light of the screen read: Incoming Call: Jeno (Brother).

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your face, but before you could even process the situation, Haechan was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Hyuck, I’m so close. Just ignore it.”

But instead of obliging, he pulled his fingers out of you with maddening precision, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His other hand reached for your phone, and before you could protest, he handed it to you.

“Pick it up,” he said firmly, his tone low and serious, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“What—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off.

Without warning, he answered the call for you, setting it on speaker.

“Where are you? You’ve been out all night, and you’re not answering my texts. Are you okay?” Jeno’s familiar voice rang out, concern laced with irritation.

Your breath hitched, shame and annoyance flashing across your face as you met Haechan’s gaze. His lips curved into the faintest smirk, his hand now resting possessively on your thigh, fingers tracing patterns.

As you open your mouth to answer, Haechan holds his cock against your folds, slowly gliding it against the mess he caused, leaving you breathless once again.

“I-I’m okay. I’m with Karina.” You bite your lip trying to suppress a moan as you watch Haechan start to insert himself into you slowly.

“Okay, that’s fine. Are you going to sleep over at her place tonight or do you need me to come and get you?” He asked, completely unaware of the situation.

You can’t do this. The feeling of his length stretching you— filling you up slowly was too much for you to handle. You started to feel your eyes rolling back.

“Hello?? I asked you a question,” Jeno’s voice snapped through the speaker.

Your eyes flew open, and you were met with Haechan’s piercing gaze. His expression was dangerously calm, but the slow, deliberate way he began to withdraw from you sent a clear message, answer him.

“No!” you yelled abruptly, your voice shaky and desperate. “No, don’t pick me up! I—I’m sleeping over at Karina’s. I’ll text you in the morning, bye!”

“Um, okay, but—”

You hung up on him before he could finish, tossing the phone onto the table and turning to Haechan with a pout.

He snickers at you, shoving his length deeper into you. “Good girl. Since you did so well for me, I’ll let you cum around my cock. Huh baby, is that what you want?” He teases as his hips start moving faster.

“Yes, fuck” you moan. “Please Donghyuck, don’t stop—don’t stop!” You move your hips, bringing yourself closer to him. You take in every inch of feeling as his tip continues hitting the same spot from earlier—and his balls slapping against your lips with each thrust.

“You just couldn’t wait for this, hm? Years of teasing me and you could’ve had this all along, shit—“ he seethes as he feels your walls clench around him.

“This sweet pussy is all mine, right baby?” Haechan grabs your chin and holds your face, locking eye contact.

His eyes burned with an intensity you’d never seen before, locking onto you with an unwavering focus that made your breath catch. Your mouth was dry, parted slightly, but no sound escaped—and he noticed. The way his gaze flicked to your lips, sharp and deliberate, sent a shiver down your spine.

He spits into your mouth and pounds harder, “answer me now.”

“It’s all yours, Donghyuck!” You scream, then swallow, gaining your voice back and your walls squeezing against him again as you're about to reach your high.

He smirks and to finish you off he attaches his lips to your hardened nipples, playing with them as he focuses on your walls clenching around him.

“Donghyuck!” You scream one last time as you cum around him, your body giving in and your nails practically clawing down his back as you cling onto him for your sanity.

He lets out a high pitched moan, music to your ears as he caught up to his release shortly after, dumping his load onto your stomach. He slumps himself right beside you as you both catch your breath.

What. Just. Happened.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind as you kept asking yourself the same questions. You wanted to wish for regret, to muster the energy to question him—or maybe even sneak away. But your body was too drained, and a bigger part of you didn’t want to leave.

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice broke the silence, soft yet laced with concern as the two of you began to recover.

“Yeah, I’m good. Um… are you okay?” you asked awkwardly, your voice quieter than you intended.

You heard the smallest chuckle escape his lips, warm and teasing in a way that made your cheeks flush. “A thousand times more than just okay,” he murmured, his words sending a strange mix of comfort and flustered warmth through you.

He sat up, reaching over to the side table to grab a tissue. Gently, he cleaned you up, his touch careful and deliberate, as if he were handling something precious.

“What… what was that?” you asked carefully, your voice soft and unsure, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Call it your congratulations present,” he replied, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “We can talk more about it in the morning, yeah? For now, let me take care of you and get you to sleep before Jeno starts figuring out you’re not actually at Karina’s.”

You let out a small shriek, covering your face with your hands. “What did you make me do?!”

He laughed, pulling you into his arms as he tugged the quilt over the both of you. “Relax,” he said, his voice warm and amused. “You played it off really well.”

Groaning into his chest, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, but it was quickly replaced by something deeper—a warmth, a sense of safety you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Fine,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

His arms tightened around you, and he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering just enough to make your heart flutter. As his steady breaths surrounded you, you found yourself growing drowsy, your body relaxing in the comfort of his embrace.

And just for tonight, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just pretend.

‧˚⭒ taglist: @jaeminnanaaa17 @scoobysnackszoo @1800-jigglemywiggle @karmasbestie @cathamada @yoursyuno @oneeew @serenedreamscape @moryymor @yesohhsehun @dnihyuck

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ohmytyong · 12 days ago

Text

meet-cute

⤹ now playing: the christmas waltz by frank sinatra

PAIRING: stranger!jaehyun x female!reader

GENRE: smut (minors dni!!), strangers to lovers (?) au, fluff

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, pet names (baby), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, nipple play, slight hair pulling, aftercare, pretty vanilla tbh

WC: 3,4k

SYNOPSIS: you were bummed that you had to spend Christmas all alone in a foreign country after your friends left you behind. little did you you would find a charming stranger to keep you company

A/N: merry christmas to everyone celebrating! here's a little gift from me to you <3

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

The muffled voices of people chatting around you mixed with the old christmas song playing from the bar's speakers filled the silence of your mind like a white noise. You whiffed the sweet scent of the red wine swirling inside the glass you were holding as you moved your hand from side to side, making you aware of your surroundings.

Despite it being Christmas eve, the bar was fuller than what you had expected. You would expect people to be gathered up at their homes, eating and having fun with all their loved ones, exchanging gifts and wishes and then getting wasted, laughing at the weird relative who had some more sips of alcohol than the others.

However, it turns out more people had the same fate as you. Sitting alone, in pairs, or in small groups at probably the only open bar in milan on this jolly day. You were informed about the jazz band that usually played live music here, yet you went to the place the only day of the year that they weren't there. Though it was kinda obvious they wouldn't be here today; it's Christmas eve for God's sake.

You took a sip of your wine, closing your eyes to savor the taste. You didn't know what it was, but the bartender definitely found your exact preference; sweet and strong on the tongue which leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste at the back of your throat.

As you set the glass down at the bar counter, you noticed a gust of air on your side, signaling someone else's presence. The woody masculine cologne that engulfed your nostrils made your head turn discreetly to the side, trying to take a glimpse of the man that it belonged to.

"A glass of Johnnie please, no ice," a soft baritone voice addressed the bartender and you couldn't help but fully turn your body towards the man, angling yourself in a position that showed your interest towards him yet keeping a safe distance.

The man definitely noticed your antics. You felt his fiery gaze look you up and down, taking in your full appearance. You flipped your hair, moving it all to the back which exposed your bare shoulder and upper chest. You noticed with the corner of your eye that the man drew in a sharp breath, shifting his body from side to side on the barstool. Your technique worked.

As you stretched your arm to grab your glass of wine, your heard the man clear his throat. "Now why would a beautiful lady sit alone at a jazz bar on Christmas eve?" the velvety baritone voice asked and the question was addressed to none other than you.

You finally met the man's gaze for the first time. He was gorgeous. His jet black hair was nicely styled, parted in the middle and framing his heavenly structured face, falling a bit long at the nape of his neck. His dress shirt was sitting tightly around his shoulders and chest, in contrast with the tie he was wearing which was hanging rather loosely around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed his arm muscles flex as he brought the scotch glass to his lips, his watch glimmering under the dim lighting.

"Funny enough, I was about to ask the exact same thing," you played along, hiding your flirty smirk behind your glass of wine.

"You're looking for a beautiful lady too?" he asked, his eyes creasing as he smiled teasingly.

You chuckled at that, covering your mouth with you hand. So he had a sense of humor. "I meant a handsome man. But whatever rows your boat," you decided to play along, flirt with him too.

His eyes were piercing. He looked at you as if he were walking for miles in the dry desert and you were an oasis just a little ahead of him, like he was desperate to drink you all up. It would be lie though if you denied that you weren't looking at him the same way.

"I mean," he said between low chuckles, "there has to be a good reason why you're here. And alone," he finished, waiting for your answer.

You sighed deeply, tapping your fingers on the counter. "I was supposed to spend Christmas with my friends but they decided to be assholes and pull a prank on me. They dumped me. Told me we were going to Milan while they are in Vienna right now," you said, downing the remaining wine in your glass in one go.

The man visibly winced at what you said, as if he was physically in pain. "I'm sorry to hear that. That's so cruel, wow," he said, reaching out a confident hand to grab your hand resting on the counter, giving it an apologetic squeeze. Oh he knows what he's doing.

"What's your excuse for being here, pretty boy?" you asked playfully and he smiled. "My story isn't as sad as yours, it's actually kinda funny. My uh- my flight got canceled. I was in Milan for work and I was supposed to go home for the holidays but..." he trailed off, pressing his lips.

"Damn, i'm sorry," you said and you decided to flirt back now. Gaining dominance over his hand, you squeezed it, rubbing circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

You noticed his eyes fixate on the spot your bodies were touching. Without realizing it, your barstool had moved closer to his and you could feel the heat of his body radiating along with the strong scent of his cologne. You hoped your perfume hadn't worn off after hours of wearing it.

"Actually," he spoke up, removing his hand from your grip, "something good came out of all this misfortune. I'm sitting at a nice cozy place with a beautiful lady to keep me company. Not that bad, isn't it? I'm Jaehyun by the way," he offered you his name, stretching his arms for a proper handshake.

It was ironic. You had already held hands without even introducing yourselves to each other. You giggled at the gesture and he smiled at your reaction, eagerly waiting for your name and your handshake with his arm still stretched towards you.

You gave him your name as you returned the handshake. The sight of the two of you must have looked somewhat awkward from a third person's point of view, but for you the interaction between you and Jaehyun had a warmth to it.

You didn't say it out loud like he did, but spending time with a lovely handsome stranger in a foreign place on Christmas eve wasn't as bad as it sounded.

You didn't realize it but you and Jaehyun had already been talking for almost two hours. Time passed by quickly, you were having a great time with him. He was weirdly charming, flirting with you in a slightly uncomfortable way despite the aura of confidence he radiated. He cracked jokes more than you expected and always found silly excuses to touch you, anywhere he could, signaling his obvious interest towards you.

It would be a lie if you said you weren't as interested in him, if more than he was. You found yourself laughing at everything he said, and you didn't mind the soft touches of his hand here and there. In fact, you craved them even more. You craved him. After two hours of talking, you weren't sure if it was the wine, the sleepiness or the pure lust you were feeling, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to everything he said. You were lost in his eyes, his lips, his hands, his scent. You were sober enough to understand the pure attraction you had for him.

The bar was now almost empty. You saw the bartender cleaning some tables in the back, and only two groups of friends were there beside you and Jaehyun. You took this as a signal to get leaving as soon as possible.

After arguing with Jaehyun over who gets to pay for the drinks, he ultimately won over you, being kind enough to pay for all your refills of wine. You were opposed to this at first, but his kind gesture made your want grow even more, and the aching sensation between your thighs became too noticeable to ignore.

You wrapped your coat closely around your neck as you stepped outside the bar in the crisp coldness of December. You couldn't just go back to your hotel room like this. The night was still young, and you weren't ready to leave Jaehyun just yet.

"So, any plans for the rest of the night?" you asked, trying to get some information you could use in your favor.

Jaehyun shrugged, lifting his shoulders. "Not really. I mean, I'm alone here so there isn't anything else to do during this time of the night," he said, but you noticed that he wanted to say more than that.

You decided to take initiative and help him out of his shyness. "I know it's gonna sound a bit weird but," you drew in a breath, shivering from the cold and the nervousness, "would you like to come over to my hotel room for one more round of drinks? It's almost Christmas" you said looking at your watch.

Jaehyun tried to suppress a smile that was threatening to spread on his lips. You had cracked him. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and neither of you were ready to let go of each other so easily. Besides, like he said, you were all alone here. You only knew each other and there wasn't anything more fun than to spend more time with a person you grew to like. He had no excuse to refuse your offer.

With a hesitant nod, he looked into your eyes, smiling softly as he tried to study the intentions behind your question. "Sure, why not?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jaehyun kicked the door of you hotel room closed as he kissed you deeply, his hands resting on your back while yours were wrapped around his neck. Dropping your bag on the floor, you hurriedly took off your shoes, throwing them somewhere around the room.

Jaehyun struggled a little untying his shoelaces, but you helped him get rid of his jacket, throwing it somewhere behind him. You let your coat fall off your body, and with a quick motion your hands were back to where they were, wrapped around jh neck, pulling him close to reach his lips again.

The kiss was electric. Your entire body heated up with lust as you tasted on his lips the mixture of the different alcoholic drinks you had consumed earlier. Jaehyun slipped his tongue into your mouth, lowering his hands to the small of your back as you cupped his cheek with one hand, the other gripping the locks of his hair. In the heat of the moment, he wasted no time cupping your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

On the short walk back to your hotel, you felt the constant need for him steadily rising and rising to the point you couldn't keep your hands to yourself anymore. It must've been hard for Jaehyun to keep his composure too, as he couldn't resist his urges anymore, kissing you in the elevator as you went up to the floor of your room.

You were both so needy for each other. Your tongues battled for dominance as Jaehyun lead you to the bed, dropping your body on the soft mattress as he towered above you, never breaking the kiss.

Your grip on his hair tightened, and he knew you wanted more. He attached his lips on your neck, pressing soft warm kissed along the sensitive area. He trailed his mouth from under your ear down to your already half-exposed chest and you mentally thanked yourself for choosing to wear a low-cut top. Soft moans escaped your lips as Jaehyun found all your favorite spots to kiss, smirking at the sounds that came out of your mouth.

His lips left your skin and you whined at the lack of his touch. He looked up into your eyes, searching for any type of consent, something that told him you needed him as badly as he needed you.

"What are we even doing?" he chuckled, running his fingers along your cheek.

You smiled at that. "i don't know,," you were honest with him. "But whatever it is, I like it. And I want it. Do you?" you asked him and he nodded quickly, resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have no idea" he said and in a second, his lips crashed with yours as he continued the battle of dominance you had previously started.

Jaehyun kept kissing you everywhere. No spot in your exposed body was left unattended by his soft lips, yet he needed more of you and you needed him in more places too. As if on cue, you arched your back to help him take off your top, followed shortly with an unclasp of your bra, the straps falling down your shoulders as he yanked it away. He immediately buried his face in your chest, sucking one nipple while teasing the other one with his fingers.

With trembling hands due to the pleasure, you loosened Jaehyun's tie, hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He sensed your struggle and detached himself from your boobs to help you get him undressed. Removing his shirt, he revealed his toned body to you, muscles flexing with every single of his movements. You didn't have enough time to fully appreciate his upper body as he dipped back in, not wanting to leave your nipples neglected.

Soft moans and whimpers left your lips as he kept on kissing you down your entire body, trailing your stomach down to your pants. Swiftly pulling the zipper, he slowly removed your pants and underwear, kissing your inner things along the way.

Your body jolted at the cold sensation of your naked core meeting the air in the room, and Jaehyun's mouth was so close to where you needed him the most that the thought alone made you even wetter.

Jaehyun took a step back to fully look at you. His pupils were dilated, eyes filled with nothing but lust and need. "Gosh you're so beautiful" he said in his low voice, a soft grunt escaping him as he unbuckled his belt, pulling down his pants and boxers revealing his own throbbing dick.

You gulped at the sight of his size, but it made you even more curious of how he would feel inside you. Jaehyun lowered himself above you, capturing your lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

"I really wanna take my time with you but I can't wait any longer. Do you think you can take me right now? No prep?" he asked you, the neediness in his eyes and voice so obvious, you could come undone any minute by now.

The truth is, you weren't sure if you could fit all of him inside you. But you needed him. you wanted him. The sooner the better. You couldn't take any more foreplay or teasing even though you'd like it. You just wanted to relase all the tension off your body.

"I can take it. I can take you," you said and you saw Jaehyun's eyes darken at your eager tone. He wasted no time, lining himself between your legs as he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to the opening of your folds.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/n?" Jaehyun asked you, waiting for your final answer, the one that would give me the green light to go.

You nodded. "yes, Jaehyun please. I want you right now," you pleaded and it was all that was needed for him to slowly thrust inside you, your velvety walls wrapping around his veiny length as he entered deeper and deeper until he bottomed out inside you, his hips touching yours.

A long moan was heard by both of you at the sensation of your bodies meeting in such an intimate way. "Fuck you're so warm" Jaehyun groaned and you moaned just at the sound he made, his eyes shut as he tried to fully feel you ad you took him all in.

Once you gave him the signal that he could move, he slowly lifted his hips, thrusting his dick in and out of your pussy, earning heavy breaths from you. Your arms searched for anchor at his toned back, digging your fingers in his shoulders as his thrusts grew faster and more eager, trying to get you to moan louder for him.

And it worked. As he kept on reaching spots so deep you never thought anyone could ever reach, Jaehyun kissed down your neck, groaning at the sound of your continuously louder moans, smirking on your skin when he pinched your nipped and you squealed, leaving out a high-pitched scream.

"You're so good at this Jae, you make me feel so good" you said in between moans and the nickname worked like magic for him. His breathing became heavier, burying his head on the crook of your neck as his thrusts became sloppier.

"Fuck you're such a good girl for me, I'm- fuck" Jaehyun's voice was mumbled as he spoke in the mattress, your moaning growing louder and louder.

"Please Jae I wanna cum, it's so good," you whispered, your breathing becoming sharper as he pressed a finger on your clit, rubbing it softly as he angled your hips higher to gain more access inside you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as his body was pressed closely on top of you. Jaehyun tried to kiss you, but the burning sensation between your legs kept you moaning inside his mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you reached closer to your climax.

"Jae I'm- I-" you tried to speak but the pleasure was too much for your brain to properly work.

Jaehyun never stopped nor changed his movements, quickly understanding what you like and what makes you a whimpering mess under him. "Come on baby, cum for me" he groaned as he kept on going, rubbing your clit slightly faster.

Your legs shook around his waist, a loud cry leaving your lips as you came around his cock. Jaehyun kept on going, riding you through your high as he chased his own. Hearing your soft moans, he came not long after you, warm liquid filling you up as your throbbing walls clenched around his length.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Jaehyun only pulled out of you once his breathing was more steady, and you winced at the sudden emptiness you felt without his body inside you, or even on top of you.

Jaehyun layed for a few more seconds before he got up, searching for his boxers around the room. "I'm gonna get some tissues to clean you up, is that alright baby?" the pet name felt so natural coming from him. It was weird that it didn't really hit you when he said it during sex, but right now it made your stomach twitch.

Jaehyun went to the bathroom and came back holding some tissues. You moved your body towards him and let him clean you up from all the remaining liquids he had spilled on you. You found the gesture adorable, especially when you saw the concentration on his face, trying to leave absolutely no dirty spot on your body.

You thanked him for it and got up to find some clean clothes you could wear to sleep. Jaehyun was too comfortable getting under the bedsheets, laying in your bed as a sign that he would stay the night.

Fishing his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he read the time. It was way past midnight by now, and neither of you noticed how quickly time had passed when you had such a great time with each other.

His lips tugged into a playful smile before he spoke. "Look, it's past midnight. Merry Christmas!" he said as you climbed into bed beside him.

You laughed at his enthusiasm and sighed, turning to face him. If you were to tell yourself that you wouldn't spend Christmas with your friends this year but rather with a hot total stranger you came across at a jazz bar, you wouldn't believe it. But now, nuzzling into his chest, hearing the slow and steady beating of his heart, you were content with this turn of events.

You cupped the side of his face and his cheek rested heavy in your palm as he leaned his head to your touch. You pressed a soft peck on his lips, smiling. "Merry Christmas".

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @matchahyuck

@renjun-fairy @thoughtfulqueenlady @uwuheeseungie @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct

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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago

Text

Need Saving

Summary: You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay.

Song: Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Part 2 - Part 3 Author’s note: CW: sexist comments, domestic violence (not from Max). I'm still salty about Daniel Ricciardo's exit to Formula 1 so I decided to add him a little here. THIS WILL BE A SERIES AND THANK YOU FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! Please like, reblog and share this! <3 ALSO IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Word count: 10.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

You are making history as the first woman to compete in Formula 1 with the Red Bull team, stepping in for Sergio Perez.

This groundbreaking achievement not only highlights your talent but also paves the way for future generations of female racers in a sport traditionally dominated by men.

Your personality shines through with a warm and friendly demeanor that makes you incredibly approachable. Colleagues and fans alike find you likable, creating an inviting atmosphere wherever you go.

This charm not only endears you to those around you but also helps foster a supportive environment within the competitive world of racing

Some have affectionately dubbed you the "Mini Honey Badger," a nod to the legendary Daniel Ricciardo. This playful comparison reflects your fierce determination and tenacity on the track, qualities that resonate with fans and fellow racers.

Your unique blend of charisma and competitive spirit is sure to leave a lasting impression in the world of Formula 1.

Luckily, you found yourself paired with one of the most talented drivers in the sport, Max Verstappen.

From the very beginning, you and Max clicked effortlessly, perhaps due to your shared sense of humor or the lighthearted way you both approached life outside of racing.

Max, known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, also had a playful side that drew you in. Whether it was sharing funny anecdotes from your childhood or engaging in friendly banter about each other's driving styles, the connection felt natural and invigorating.

You both understood the pressures of the sport, yet you managed to find joy in the little moments, whether it was a shared laugh over a silly meme or a light-hearted debate about the best racing video games.

This bond not only made your time together enjoyable but also fostered a sense of trust and teamwork that would prove invaluable as the season progressed.

During your initial week in Formula 1, the team was treated to a mix of corny jokes and uproarious laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both fun and relaxed.

It was clear that the camaraderie between you two was something special, and it didn’t take long for everyone to notice. The garage, usually filled with the tension of competition, transformed into a space of joy and lightheartedness.

You and Max would often engage in playful challenges, like who could come up with the worst dad joke or who could impersonate the team’s engineers the best.

These moments not only broke the ice but also helped to build a strong team spirit.

The mechanics and engineers, who often worked long hours under pressure, found themselves smiling more often, and the overall morale of the team improved.

It was as if your infectious energy had a ripple effect, reminding everyone that while racing was serious business, it was also about passion, fun, and the love of the sport.

Christian Horner, the team principal, seemed to recognize this chemistry right away.

He confidently remarked to the media about the dynamic of having a girl and a boy on the same team, suggesting that he had a good feeling about the partnership.

His words resonated with the fans and the media alike, sparking conversations about the evolving landscape of motorsport and the importance of diversity within the sport. It was evident that the two of you were destined to make waves together on and off the track.

Christian’s faith in your partnership only fueled your determination to succeed.

You both knew that the expectations were high, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you embraced the challenge.

"Joseph, can you give me an update on the gap behind?" you inquired, your voice steady as it crackled through the radio to your race engineer.

The sound of your own heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the high stakes at play.

"You're looking at a 5-second lead over Norris, Y/N," Joseph Duke responded, his tone calm and focused.

As you navigated the track, the adrenaline surged through your veins, heightening your senses.

The smell of burning rubber and the roar of engines filled the air, but your focus remained solely on the asphalt ahead.

Max was currently leading the race, and you were right on his tail, just a heartbeat away from making a decisive move.

With the world championship points on the line, every second counted, and the team’s strategy was crucial.

"Copy that, Joseph. I’m feeling good about this pace. Should I push to overtake Max?" you asked, weighing your options.

The tension in the air was palpable, and you could almost hear the roar of the crowd in your mind, their cheers and gasps fueling your determination.

You could picture the fans waving flags, the excitement building as the race unfolded.

"Remember, he’s leading the championship, so those points are vital for him," Joseph reminded you, his voice steady and measured.

You took a deep breath, considering the risks and rewards of your next move. The thought of overtaking Max was tantalizing, but the consequences of a miscalculation loomed large.

"Understood. But if I don’t make a move soon, he might pull away," you replied, your mind racing through the possibilities.

You could see the track ahead, the curves and straightaways that could either make or break your race.

"Just keep your head in the game, Y/N. Focus on your lines and stay patient. The opportunity will come," Joseph advised, his experience guiding you through the chaos.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, reminding yourself that patience was key.

As you approached the next turn, you felt the car respond to your every command, the tires gripping the asphalt with precision.

You could see Max’s car just ahead, a flash of blue and white, and the urge to push harder surged within you.

"Alright, I’ll hold back for now, but I’m ready when the moment strikes," you said, determination lacing your words.

The opportunity to seize the grand prix had slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of second place as Max celebrated his victory.

It wasn’t that you felt anger towards him; after all, the stakes were high, and the competition was fierce.

You had performed admirably, even outshining Checo this season, and Red Bull was finally back to their P1-P2 glory.

As you stepped out of your car, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you spotted Max waiting for you, his helmet off and a look of concern etched on his face.

He rushed over, his expression serious as he enveloped you in a quick hug. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected question. Removing your helmet, you met his gaze with a warm smile. “Of course not! But don’t think I’ll go easy on you next week,” you replied playfully, your competitive spirit igniting once more.

Max’s face lit up with a genuine smile, the tension dissipating. “Mate, I won’t go down that easy!” he shot back, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of rivalry.

As you made your way to celebrate with the team, you noticed the difference in how they treated you compared to Max. While he was hoisted into the air, receiving enthusiastic cheers and bone-crushing hugs, you felt a more cautious approach directed your way.

It was a subtle reminder of the gender dynamics at play in the sport. You brushed it off, focusing instead on the camaraderie and the shared passion that brought you all together.

The post-race atmosphere was electric, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout of joy.

You joined in the celebrations, clapping your hands and cheering for your teammates, but a part of you remained introspective.

You replayed the race in your mind, analyzing every corner, every overtaking maneuver, and every missed opportunity.

The thrill of competition was intoxicating, but so was the desire to prove yourself, not just to the team but to the world.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself lingering at the periphery of the lively celebration, your gaze fixed on Max as he reveled in the spotlight of his victory.

He was the star of the night, the one everyone clamored to congratulate, while you stood in the shadows, merely the second driver.

Christian approached, giving your shoulder a friendly pat, a gesture of appreciation for your support. Yet, it felt insufficient.

You masked your feelings with a bright smile as you watched Max raise his glass, laughter spilling from his lips as the clock inched toward midnight.

“Goodnight, Max,” you called out, aware that your boyfriend, Jake would be less than pleased if you lingered too long.

“Goodnight, best friend! Did I mention you look lovely tonight?” Max replied, his words slightly slurred as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No, you didn’t! Thank you, Max. You look great too!” you managed to say, your heart fluttering at the compliment.

As the night wore on, you exchanged goodbyes with the others, the atmosphere buzzing with joy and celebration.

You decided it was time to head home, opting for a taxi since you had indulged in a few drinks earlier.

Once inside the cab, you leaned back against the seat, reflecting on the evening. The laughter, the cheers, and the way Max had shone like a beacon of success.

It was hard not to feel a twinge of envy, but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself of the bond you shared.

The driver navigated through the city streets, and you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the photos from the night.

There was Max, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by friends, and there you were, a supportive figure in the background.

Just as the car turned, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you glanced down to see a message from Jake.

“Where are you?” he texted, the words appearing on your screen like a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting for you at home.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection as you typed back, “Just left the party! On my way home now. Can’t wait to see you!”

The taxi weaved through the city streets, and you could almost picture him waiting for you, perhaps pacing a little, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was worried.

You could hear his voice in your head, teasing you about how you always took too long to say goodbye, but you knew he loved it just as much as you did.

As the taxi pulled up to your building, you felt a flutter of excitement. You paid the driver and hurried inside, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you stepped into the apartment, a heavy scent of alcohol hit you like a wave, and your heart sank.

The cheerful anticipation you had felt moments before evaporated, replaced by a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You knew Jake had been struggling lately, and the telltale signs of his mood were all around you.

Empty bottles cluttered the coffee table, their labels peeling and faded, remnants of nights spent drowning sorrows that seemed to multiply with each passing day.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously made your way further inside, hoping to find a glimmer of the warmth you once cherished, a flicker of the love that had once filled this space.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” you called out, trying to inject some cheer into the atmosphere, but your voice felt small and fragile against the oppressive silence that enveloped the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

Just then, he emerged from the shadows of the living room, his eyes glassy and unfocused, as if he were peering through a fog that had settled deep within him.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness. “Did you have fun pretending to be normal out there?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he continued, hurling insults that cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

It was as if he was trying to push you away, to create a chasm between you that felt insurmountable.

And yet, amidst the hurt, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved, the one who was lost beneath layers of pain and anger.

“Why do you always have to do this?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability in your tone betraying the strength you wished to project. “I just want to help you.”

He scoffed, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand, the gesture almost theatrical in its disdain. “Help? You mean control. You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You’re just like everyone else, trying to tell me what to do.”

The words stung, and you felt the weight of his accusations pressing down on you, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

“I’m not trying to control you,” you replied softly, “I just want to be there for you. Can’t we talk about this?”

But as you looked into his eyes, you realized that the man you once knew was slipping further away, lost in a haze of his own making.

His gaze, once so full of life and passion, now seemed clouded, distant. It was as if he was peering through a murky window, unable or unwilling to see the vibrant world outside.

You could see the shadows of his struggles etched on his face, the lines of worry and anger deepening with each passing day. It pained you to witness this transformation, to see the light in him dimmed by his own fears and insecurities.

“Why can’t you see that I’m trying to help?” you pressed, your heart racing as desperation crept into your voice. “I’m not your enemy. I want to understand what you’re going through.”

You took a tentative step closer, hoping to bridge the gap that felt insurmountable.

But he recoiled slightly, as if your words were a physical blow, and the distance between you felt more pronounced than ever.

“Understand?” he scoffed, his tone laced with bitterness. “You think you can just waltz in and understand? You have no idea what it’s like to feel trapped, to have every choice taken from you. You don’t know the weight of this burden.”

His voice cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the bravado.

As soon as you opened your mouth to speak, Jake brushed by you, grabbing his coat and shoes in one swift motion.

"I'm heading out for a walk. Don't even think about following me," he snapped, his words laced with the sting of alcohol.

You simply nodded, feeling a mix of concern and frustration, but you stayed rooted in place until you heard the door slam shut behind him.

With the sound echoing in the silence, you finally exhaled, the tension in your chest easing just a bit. You glanced around the room, the remnants of the night scattered everywhere—empty bottles and crumpled napkins littered the floor.

"Guess it's cleanup time," you muttered to yourself, bending down to gather the bottles. As you worked, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from your best friend, Sarah.

"Hey! How's everything? You okay?"

You sighed, typing back quickly. "Not great. He just stormed out after a fight. I’m cleaning up the mess now."

A moment later, your phone chimed again. "Want me to come over? I can help."

You hesitated, glancing at the door. "No, it’s fine. I just need to sort things out."

"Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now."

You paused, considering her words. "I’ll be okay. I just need to think."

As you continued to tidy up, you replayed the argument in your mind. It had started over something trivial, but the alcohol had turned it into a full-blown fight.

You could hear his voice in your head, the way he had raised his tone, the way he had dismissed your feelings.

"Why does he always do this?" you whispered to yourself, frustration bubbling up again.

You were well aware that he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

After tidying up the house, you decided to treat yourself to a long, relaxing bath.

The warm water enveloped you, washing away the day’s worries. Once you felt refreshed, you slipped into your favorite pajamas and crawled into bed, the soft sheets providing a comforting embrace.

He hadn’t always been this way—filled with anger and lost in the depths of alcoholism.

You both had shared a beautiful love story, starting as high school sweethearts. You could still remember the way he used to look at you, his eyes sparkling with affection, mirroring the love you felt for him.

As you lay there, memories flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you had built together. But now, those dreams felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the weight of his struggles.

Maybe it was the pressure of work that was taking a toll on him. You thought back to the last time you had a heart-to-heart.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about our future?” you had asked him one evening, the two of you sitting on the porch, the sun setting in a blaze of colors.

He had sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I remember. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Things can get better, you know. We can work through this together,” you had urged, your heart aching for the man you once knew.

He had looked away, his expression clouded. “I don’t know if I can. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

You had reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between you grew. The man you loved was slipping away, replaced by someone you barely recognized.

Now, lying in bed, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find his way back to you. Would he remember the love you once shared? Would he fight against the demons that haunted him?

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would bring a glimmer of hope, a sign that the man you loved was still inside, waiting to break free.

As you settled into bed, the glow of your phone screen illuminated the dark room, revealing a flurry of notifications that had accumulated while you were winding down.

Most of them were filled with excitement, congratulating you on your impressive second-place finish in the race. However, amidst the sea of cheerful messages, one stood out—a private note from Max.

While some comments stung with negativity, suggesting you didn’t belong in the world of Formula 1, Max’s message was a beacon of warmth.

“Thanks for coming to celebrate with me 👍,” it read, and a smile crept across your face, momentarily pushing away the weight of the harsh words.

You felt a mix of emotions swirling within you, and for a moment, tears threatened to spill over. But instead of succumbing to the sadness, you decided to respond to Max.

Your fingers danced over the screen as you typed, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you deserved it! 😁” The moment you hit send, a sense of relief washed over you.

It was a reminder that amidst the criticism, there were still those who appreciated your presence and celebrated your achievements.

You could almost hear Max’s laughter echoing in your mind, a sound that always seemed to lift your spirits.

Just as you were about to put your phone down, a new message popped up from Max. “You really made the night special! I’m glad you were there. Let’s catch up soon?”

His words filled you with warmth, and you could picture him grinning with alcohol still in his system, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely! I’d love to,” you replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

After setting your phone aside for the night, you drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the world outside fading into a distant memory.

When you awoke, you were enveloped in a warm embrace, the kind that felt like home. Instantly, you recognized the familiar presence of Jake, his body radiating warmth against yours.

The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of his previous night out with friends, a detail that both amused and concerned you.

A smile crept across your face as you turned to see him, his features relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked his demeanor the night before.

Curiosity sparked within you, igniting a flurry of questions as you pondered where he had spent his time, what stories he might have to share, and whether the night had been as wild as you imagined.

You felt a rush of affection for him, a desire to know every detail of his adventures, to understand the man who had captured your heart so completely.

Despite the warnings from your friends urging you to reconsider your relationship, your feelings for him remained steadfast, unwavering like a lighthouse in a storm.

They claimed he was a source of trouble, a tempest that could jeopardize your career and stir up scandals that would ripple through your life.

Yet, deep down, you understood him better than they did, seeing the layers of his character that they overlooked. You believed in his integrity, in the goodness that lay beneath the surface, and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally cause chaos in your life.

Their concerns echoed in your mind, but they felt distant, like the sound of waves crashing against a far-off shore.

You were determined to forge your own path, to trust your instincts, and to embrace the love that had blossomed between you, even if it meant standing alone against the tide of skepticism.

Although your relationship was already in the public eye, with whispers and speculation swirling around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, he had yet to join you in the paddock due to his work commitments.

You felt a mix of anticipation and longing, a bittersweet ache in your chest as you navigated the bustling environment without him by your side.

As you glanced at your phone, the screen illuminated the early morning hour, signaling it was time for your daily jog.

You carefully extricated yourself from Jake's embrace, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Just as you were about to tiptoe out of the room, you caught a faint mumble escaping his lips, a mix of sleep and concern. “Where are you going?” he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness.

You paused for a moment, torn between the urge to reassure him and the need to stick to your routine.

“I’m just going for a quick run, love. I’ll be back before you know it,” you replied softly, hoping to ease any lingering worries. His brow furrowed slightly, even in his sleep, as if he sensed your departure was more than just a morning ritual.

“You always run too early… what if someone sees you?” he muttered, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, even in his dreams.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just me and the open road. You know I love my morning jogs.”

You could feel the tension in the air, a familiar weight that often accompanied your outings. “Okay,” he finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in his tone.

You quickly changed into your jogging attire before stepping out of the house. With a sense of urgency, you slipped into your comfortable workout gear, ready to embrace the fresh air outside.

The fabric of your favorite moisture-wicking shirt clung to your skin, and the soft elastic of your running shorts felt familiar and reassuring.

You laced up your well-worn sneakers, the soles still resilient from countless miles, and took a moment to stretch your legs, feeling the anticipation build within you.

Once dressed, you felt the excitement of the run ahead, eager to hit the pavement and enjoy the rhythm of your feet against the ground.

The world outside beckoned, vibrant and alive, as you opened the door and stepped into the crisp morning air. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers filled your lungs, invigorating your spirit.

You took a deep breath, letting the coolness wash over you, and with a quick glance at the sky, you noted the sun just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue across the horizon.

As you began to jog, the familiar cadence of your heartbeat matched the steady thump of your feet on the pavement. Each stride felt liberating, a release from the confines of the day-to-day.

You could feel the tension of the week melting away with every step, replaced by a sense of freedom and clarity.

The rhythmic sound of your breath mingled with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, creating a symphony of nature that accompanied you on your journey.

As you were enjoying your morning jog through the park, the rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the pavement was suddenly interrupted by a group of enthusiastic voices.

A cluster of women and girls approached you, their faces lighting up with excitement. "Excuse me! Miss Y/N! Can we get your autograph?" one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

You paused, a bit surprised but also flattered, and smiled at the eager crowd. "Of course! I’d be happy to," you replied, pulling out a small notepad from your pocket.

Amid the chatter, a young girl stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I want to start go-karting because I want to be just like you!" she declared, her voice filled with determination.

You could see the passion in her eyes, and it warmed your heart. "That’s amazing! Go-karting is such a fun sport," you encouraged her. "What do you love most about it?"

The girl beamed, her confidence growing as she shared her dreams of racing and the thrill of speed. "I love the idea of being in control and going fast! It looks so cool!"

You nodded, feeling a sense of responsibility to inspire her. "You know, every champion starts somewhere. If you really want to do it, just keep practicing and never give up. Surround yourself with people who support you, and you’ll go far," you advised, hoping to instill a sense of belief in her.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Thank you so much!"

As the group dispersed, you felt a renewed sense of purpose, realizing that your journey could inspire others to chase their dreams, just as you had. . . .

As the days rolled on, the team decided to spice things up a bit before race week by organizing a fun game called "How Well Do You Know Each Other."

The idea was to not only entertain the fans but also to give everyone a glimpse into the camaraderie between you and Max.

You found yourself standing in front of the camera, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside you, while Max lounged comfortably on the sofa behind you, his headphones snugly in place, unable to listen in.

The staff kicked off the game with a playful tone, "Alright, let’s start with you! The first question about Max is… what is Max's favorite food?" You grinned, confident in your knowledge of your teammate.

"Oh, I know this one! Max is a huge fan of both Italian and Dutch cuisine, while I personally lean more towards Spanish dishes," you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

The crew chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter, and you could see Max nodding in agreement, a smirk on his face even though he didn't know what you said.

After a few more questions, it was time for the roles to reverse. You took a seat on the sofa, and Max stood in front of the camera, a playful glint in his eyes.

The staff asked him the same question, and he leaned forward, a teasing smile forming. "Well, I know my teammate pretty well! She loves her Spanish food, but I think she secretly wishes she could cook like an Italian chef," he joked.

"You better be getting this right, I wanna beat Charles and Carlos' record," you said, feeling the competitive in you to beat Ferrari's record of 18 out of 20 right.

Max only turned around and gave an okay sign since you couldn't hear him, adding a little small wink for the tease but it was caught on camera.

In the end, both you and Max aced all the questions, and the excitement bubbled over as you jumped up and down, your energy infectious. Max stood nearby, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your enthusiasm.

"See, everyone! Red Bull is clearly the superior team compared to Ferrari, so make sure to support us this week!" you exclaimed, wrapping up the video with a flourish.

As you turned to Max, you noticed he was still gazing at you, lost in thought. It took you by surprise.

"Max, do you want to add anything to what I just said?" you asked, a playful grin on your face as you nudged his shoulder gently.

Snapping back to reality, Max turned to the camera, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.

"Oh, umm, yeah… Red Bull domination, I guess?" he replied, his voice a mix of uncertainty and enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response, and Max's smile widened, clearly pleased that he could make you laugh.

"Alright, everyone, that's a wrap! We'll catch you all soon. Fingers crossed for another P1-P2 finish, but maybe next time we can switch things up a bit," you said, waving enthusiastically at the camera.

As the camera clicked off, you turned to the crew with a warm smile, expressing your gratitude for their support. You shifted your focus to Max, who was standing nearby, a mix of anticipation and amusement on his face.

"Hey, Max," you began, a playful glint in your eye. "How does it feel to be the most compatible drivers on the grid?"

Max's eyes widened slightly at the phrase "most compatible," and you could see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. But as soon as he processed the word "driver," his expression shifted to one of mild disappointment.

"It feels nice, I guess," he replied, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Just another thing to brag about to Lando, right?"

You chuckled, knowing how much Max loved to tease his fellow drivers. "Oh, absolutely! I can already picture it—Lando rolling his eyes while you go on about how you and I are the ultimate duo."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "He'll probably come up with some ridiculous comeback, like how he’s the best driver in the world or something."

"Well, he does have a knack for that," you said, leaning against the wall, enjoying the banter. "But let’s be honest, you two are like an old married couple. Always bickering but secretly caring for each other."

Max rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. I can barely handle my own sleeping schedule!"

Max shrugged, a hint of humility creeping into his demeanor. "But honestly, having you around makes it easier. You bring a different energy to the team."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thanks, Max. That means a lot coming from you. I think we balance each other out pretty well."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, it’s like we have this unspoken understanding. You know when to push me and when to let me breathe. It’s refreshing."

"Exactly! And it’s not just about racing; it’s about the camaraderie we build off the track too. Those late-night strategy sessions and the random moments of laughter—they all add up."

Max chuckled, recalling a particularly ridiculous moment from a previous race weekend. "Remember that time we got lost trying to find the catering tent? We ended up in that random fan zone instead!"

You burst out laughing, the memory flooding back. "Oh my god, yes! And those fans were so excited to see us, they thought we were there for a meet-and-greet! We ended up taking selfies with them for an hour."

"Right? And then we finally found the catering tent, only to discover they were out of your favorite pasta!" Max added, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That was a tragedy," you said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But it turned into one of the best days. I wouldn’t trade those moments for anything."

Max’s gaze softened as he looked at you, a genuine smile breaking through. "Me neither. It’s those little things that make all the hard work worth it."

You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between you palpable. The atmosphere around the paddock buzzed with activity, but in that moment, it felt like you were in your own little world.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Max said, breaking the moment with a playful nudge. "Let’s get back to business. We’ve got a race to prepare for, and I can’t let you steal all my glory."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, please! You know I’m just here to make you look good. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of overshadowing the reigning champion."

What you two didn't know was that the cameras didn't stop but recorded your little moment, which went viral in the few minutes that it was posted. . . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You knew that the public would start shipping you and Max together sooner or later but you weren't bothered with it.

You had a boyfriend who you cared for deeply, someone who had been your rock through the ups and downs of your racing career. Yet, his reaction to the swirling rumors about you and Max took you by surprise.

You never imagined he would be so affected by the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through the paddock and beyond.

Here you were, caught in a web of emotions, torn between the thrill of a new chapter and the loyalty you felt towards your current relationship.

As you stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your shared space enveloped you, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air.

You found Jake lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and you could sense that something was off.

“Hey, babe,” you greeted him, trying to sound cheerful despite the weight on your shoulders. He barely looked up, his fingers scrolling furiously, as if searching for answers in the digital chaos.

“Did you hear about you and Max?” he finally snapped, his voice laced with irritation, cutting through the silence like a knife. “It’s all over social media. Are you really going to let this get to you?”

You felt your heart sink; you had hoped for a different reaction, one that would reassure you that your relationship was strong enough to withstand the storm of rumors.

“Come on, it’s just rumors,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor in it betrayed your inner turmoil. “You know I’m committed to only you.”

You watched as he shot you a skeptical glance, his jealousy bubbling to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. “Yeah, but how can I trust you when you’re out there with him all the time? It’s not just a coincidence that everyone is talking about it.”

The words stung, and you took a deep breath. "Babe I love only you-"

"Please, don’t even think about it! You know I’m stuck here because if I walked away, your fans would make my life a living nightmare," Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling from the harsh reality of your situation.

It was as if he had taken a knife and twisted it, exposing the raw vulnerability you had tried so hard to hide.

You could feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. "I didn’t ask for any of this," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could sense the tension between you growing thicker by the second. It was a battle of emotions, and you were losing ground.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know it’s not fair, but you have to understand the pressure I’m under. It’s not just about us; it’s about my career, my fans. I can’t let them down."

His eyes softened for a moment, revealing a glimpse of the man you fell in love with.

"But I don’t want to lose you. Can’t we find a way to make this work?" You pleaded.

"I don't know," he muttered, not lifting his eyes from his phone before standing up and walking past you to get his coat and shoes. "i'm gonna take a walk,"

This has been a pattern for weeks now. You would come home, he would start an argument then make up an excuse to leave the house, leaving you to either pick up his mess or go to sleep without your partner. To only wake up with him cuddling you in the morning and apologise for his action last night.

You were getting sick of it but you still love him too much to break up with him. . . .

The days that followed were a blur of introspection and emotional turmoil. Each time you caught a glimpse of Jake’s name on your phone, a knot formed in your stomach.

You had always been the type to see the good in people, to believe that love could conquer all, but the reality of your situation was becoming harder to ignore.

The moments of tenderness were overshadowed by the growing unease that settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

You spent more time with Sarah, who seemed to sense your internal struggle. She filled your days with laughter and distraction, taking you out for coffee, long walks in the park, and movie marathons that kept your mind off the impending decision.

Yet, no matter how much you tried to push it aside, the thought of Jake lingered like a shadow, reminding you of the grip he had on your heart—and not in a way that felt safe or loving.

One evening, as you and Sarah sat on the balcony watching the sunset, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink, she turned to you again.

"Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you have to prioritize your happiness. You can’t keep living in this limbo," she said, her voice steady and unwavering.

You looked out at the horizon, the beauty of the moment contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you.

"I know," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "But what if I’m wrong? What if he really can change?"

The fear of making the wrong choice loomed large, a specter that haunted your thoughts.

"Change is possible, but it has to come from him, not from you hoping for it," Sarah said gently. "You can’t be the one to fix him. You’re not responsible for his happiness or his growth. You deserve to be with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You thought back to the last time he had gripped your arm, the way his eyes had darkened, and how you had brushed it off as a moment of frustration.

But now, in the light of day, you could see it for what it was—a warning sign that you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

That night, as you lay in bed, the silence of your room felt deafening. You replayed every moment of your relationship, the good and the bad, and slowly, the scales began to tip.

The holiday seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and soon you found yourself stepping into the paddock alongside Sarah and Jake.

As you walked, you could feel the tension in the air; Jake wore a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, gripping your hand a little too tightly.

“Hey, look at all the fans!” you exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as you waved enthusiastically at the crowd, signing autographs for those who called out your name.

Sarah, taking a break from her hectic job, had decided to join you, her laughter ringing out like music amidst the bustling atmosphere.

“Isn’t this amazing?” you said, glancing at Sarah, who was snapping pictures with her phone. “I can’t believe how many people came out today!”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a mini-celebration! But where’s your boyfriend? He seems a bit off today.”

You shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just tired. We haven’t really talked much since we got back.”

You stole a glance at him, who was still smiling, but it felt forced, like he was putting on a show for everyone around.

You made the decision to invite Jake into your driver’s room for a heart-to-heart conversation. As you settled into the familiar space, you turned to him with a gentle concern.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Jake looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and longing, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m alright, really. I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” he replied, his tone sincere.

In that moment, you felt a rush of warmth; you had missed the comfort of his touch more than you realized.

“Jake, I need to let you know that I have to leave soon,” you murmured, trying to keep the conversation grounded. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“Why don’t you just quit your job already? I can take care of you, I promise,” he suggested, his voice dripping with temptation.

The idea hung in the air between you, and for a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his offer.

It was tempting, but the passion you had for Formula 1 was a flame that burned too brightly to extinguish for anyone, even someone as captivating as Jake.

You took a deep breath, weighing your options. “Jake, you know how much this means to me. Formula 1 isn’t just a job; it’s my dream,” you replied, your heart heavy with the conflict.

He stepped back slightly, his expression shifting from desire to disappointment. “I get it, but can’t you see how much I care about you? I want us to be together, and I thought you felt the same way,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and it pained you to know that your passion for racing was creating a rift between you.

“I do care about you, but I can’t just walk away from everything I’ve worked for,” you insisted, hoping he would understand.

As you stand there, the tension weighs heavily in the air, palpable and thick, as Jake's frustration spills over, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and desperation.

"But what about me?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for an answer that you know is difficult to provide. "Since you started this job, we haven’t done anything together. All you've been doing is hanging out with that Max boy. Don’t you see it?"

His words cut through the silence, piercing the surface of your mind and forcing you to confront the tangled web of your life that feels all too overwhelming at this moment.

As you gather your thoughts, aware that the job has transformed your priorities and the once-familiar relationship with Jake has shifted, you attempt to articulate your feelings, to bridge the widening chasm of misunderstanding.

"Jake—" you start, your voice tremulous, hoping to weave a delicate thread of connection that can pull you both back to a place of understanding, but he interjects, the intensity of his emotions propelling him forward before you can offer your perspective.

"I’ll show you—don't worry," he mutters, the frustration lacing his tone beginning to dissipate as he suddenly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a gesture that is both protective and possessive.

The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the bond you once cherished.

Feeling the urgency of the moment, his lips find yours, a kiss that ignites a flicker of hope amid the turmoil of doubt and fear swirling around you. . . .

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After the holiday break, you had started to act differently, almost as if a shadow had fallen over their usual camaraderie.

Whenever he approached to nudge her shoulder playfully, she would flinch, a look of surprise crossing her face as if she were bracing for something unpleasant.

It was a stark contrast to the easygoing banter they once shared, and he couldn't help but notice how she had become more withdrawn, often lost in her thoughts, her laughter replaced by a distant gaze.

He believed you were feeling down because the team was struggling to achieve the results they had hoped for.

Typically, his father would reach out to him after a disappointing race, sometimes even resorting to physical punishment if the outcome was particularly disheartening.

It was a routine he had come to accept, thinking it was a common experience shared by many.

However, everything changed when his therapist pointed out that not everyone endured such treatment, which sparked a rebellion within him against his father's harsh ways.

"Why do you always have to be so hard on me?" he had shouted one evening, frustration boiling over.

His father, taken aback, responded with a stern look, "Because I want you to be the best, Max. You need to learn that life isn’t always fair."

But Max felt differently; he wanted to be supported, not punished.

As he pondered your situation, he couldn't help but wonder if you had faced similar challenges.

"Do you have someone in your life who treats you badly?" he asked cautiously, trying to gauge your response.

Your eyes widened at the sudden question before you shook your head, a small smile breaking through the clouds of doubt.

"No, not like that. Everyone is really supportive of me these days."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that you had not been in that cycle of abuse he had been so familiar with.

In many of the recent races, both you and Max found yourselves finishing in the P2 to P4 range, or sometimes not making it to the podium at all, which left the team feeling quite disheartened.

The once-promising season had turned into a series of missed opportunities, and the weight of expectations began to take its toll on everyone involved.

The atmosphere in the garage was thick with tension, and the engineers were working overtime to analyze data and strategize for the next race, but the results were still falling short of what the team had hoped for.

This situation also prompted Max's father, Jos, to plan a visit during the race weekend. He intended to check in on his son and perhaps give him a much-needed reality check, quite literally.

As the race day approached, Jos observed his son engaging in cheerful conversation with you, rather than focusing on the engineers to gather crucial insights, a routine Max typically adhered to before a race.

This deviation from his usual pre-race preparation did not sit well with Jos.

He had always believed that the hours leading up to a race were critical for mental conditioning and strategy formulation. To see Max laughing and joking instead of poring over telemetry data or discussing race strategies with the engineers was concerning for him.

Jos's frustration grew as he watched the interaction unfold. He believed that your presence was a distraction, pulling Max away from the intense focus required for peak performance.

In his eyes, the bond you shared with his son was undermining Max's potential to excel on the track.

He felt that friendships weren't important and they should not come at the expense of Max's dedication to his craft.

Jos was determined to address this issue head-on, convinced that a serious conversation was necessary to realign Max's priorities. . . . .

In the midst of a lively discussion filled with laughter and camaraderie, Jos abruptly interjected, "Max, I need to talk to you right now."

His tone cut through the jovial atmosphere, drawing the attention of both you and his son. The laughter faded, replaced by a sudden stillness as everyone turned to witness the unfolding scene.

Max's expression shifted from joy to disappointment as he glanced at you, yet he managed to offer a reassuring smile before reluctantly following his father away from the group.

"Yes, Father?" Max responded in Dutch, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. The way he spoke suggested a mix of respect and wariness, as if he were bracing himself for a conversation he knew would be anything but easy.

Jos wasted no time in launching into his concerns, his words spilling out with a sense of urgency.

"You must distance yourself from that girl; she is a distraction that will hinder your performance in the race," he asserted, his tone firm and authoritative, as if he were delivering a decree rather than a request.

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness that had just moments ago enveloped the gathering.

Max, however, was quick to defend you, his loyalty evident in the way he stood a little taller, his brow furrowing in determination. "No, she doesn't distract me, Father. She's my teammate," he stated, his voice steady and resolute.

The conviction in his tone reflected a bond that transcended mere friendship; it was a partnership built on shared goals and mutual respect.

Yet, as he spoke, the tension between father and son thickened, a palpable clash of wills that seemed to reverberate through the quiet space around them.

Jos, sensing the resistance in Max's voice, shifted his approach, employing subtle manipulation to sway his son’s perspective.

"Think about your future, Max. You have so much potential, and I only want what is best for you," he continued, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to appeal to Max's aspirations.

The words were carefully chosen, designed to instill doubt about your influence, to paint you as an obstacle rather than an ally.

Max hesitated, caught between his father's expectations and his own feelings.

The internal struggle was evident on his face, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he grappled with the conflicting loyalties that tugged at his heart.

"It is evident in your results over the weeks, you've been falling off the high scores recently, hardly been able to reach third place because of that girl!" Jos stressed out and Max became quiet, letting those words sink in.

"Max, think about it," Jos continued, his tone shifting to one of persuasion. "You need to focus on your game and not let distractions get in the way. She's not worth it."

Max felt a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had always admired his father's wisdom, but now he sensed a subtle manipulation at play. Jos was trying to steer him away from his feelings, and deep down, Max knew it.

Yet, the idea of disappointing his father loomed larger than his own desires.

"Okay, Father," Max finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt a pang of regret as he agreed, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing a part of himself in the process. As he walked away, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

Was it worth sacrificing his happiness for the sake of competition?

As he walked away, the sound of his father's footsteps fading behind him, he contemplated the choices ahead of him.

The internal struggle was just beginning, and Max knew he had to find a way to balance his passion for the game with the complexities of his heart.

He thought of you—the woman who had sparked something within him, a light that had ignited a warmth he hadn't been able to feel like Daniel left.

After he began to distance himself from you, he noticed a change in your demeanor.

You seemed more withdrawn, putting on a facade of happiness with a constant smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding behind long-sleeved coats, even in the warm weather, creating a barrier between yourself and the world around you.

The vibrant laughter that once filled the air when you were together had been replaced by a silence that hung heavily between you, punctuated only by the occasional forced chuckle or polite nod.

Max could see the way your shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of unspoken words and unshared feelings was pressing down on you.

Your eyes, once bright with enthusiasm and mischief, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that you tried so hard to conceal.

He remembered the long pointless conversations, the dreams you both had shared, and the plans that now felt like distant memories. It pained him to witness your struggle, yet he felt powerless to bridge the growing chasm between you.

Despite the guilt that gnawed at him, Max couldn’t help but recognize a shift in his own performance on the racetrack.

He found himself consistently finishing on the podium, a stark contrast to your struggles as you remained trapped within the top ten.

Each trophy he lifted felt heavier than the last, a reminder of the friendship that had once fueled his passion for racing.

He could hear the cheers of the crowd, feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but all he could think about was how you used to be there, celebrating alongside him, your face alight with pride and joy.

While he celebrated his achievements, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was missing.

The camaraderie they once shared seemed to slip further away with each passing race, leaving him to wonder if the price of success was worth the cost of their connection.

He often found himself glancing over at the empty spot in the pit where you used to stand, your eyes sparkling with encouragement, your voice ringing out with advice that had always kept him grounded.

As the races continued, Max felt a growing urgency to reach out, to break through the walls you had built around yourself.

But his father kept him grounded and not letting that thought come to life anytime soon. . . .

As you maneuver through the winding turns of the racetrack, adrenaline surges through your veins, a heady blend of focus and exhilaration.

"Joseph, what's the gap to Max?" you inquire, your voice steady despite the chaos enveloping you as you glance at the rearview mirror, noticing Charles's fierce pursuit as he falls into your peripheral vision, momentarily eclipsed by your recent strategic overtaking maneuver.

"2.3 seconds in front of you, Y/N," Joseph replies, his tone equally crisp yet slightly strained, hinting at the intensity of the moment.

The hum of the engine, the vibrations of the car, and the distant roar of the crowd blend into a symphony of speed, and as you negotiate the track, your mind sharpens with determination.

You consider your next move with meticulous care, knowing that a split-second decision could alter the course of the race.

Holding tightly to the steering wheel, you then ask, “Do I have permission to take over?”

Pause hangs in the air like a fragile breath, and you can almost anticipate Joseph's reply, especially given the longstanding tradition wherein hesitance often blankets these life-altering decisions.

Sure enough, after a fleeting silence, you prepare for the inevitable response that would echo in your ears like an unwelcome refrain, one you were all too familiar with.

But just as you brace yourself for a “no,” the radio crackles to life again—this time with a tidal wave of unexpected urgency.

"Yes! Y/N? Can you hear me? The team has approved the overtake of Max! Go for it!" Joseph’s voice bursts through with a burst of energy, jolting you from your reverie.

Instinctively, your foot plunges onto the accelerator as you channel every ounce of skill, focus, and ambition into propelling yourself forward.

You swiftly navigate the corner, your car gliding through the air like a bird released from captivity, and in that moment of pure adrenaline, you find yourself eclipsing Max, reclaiming the lead with undeniable ferocity.

As you settle into your newfound position at first place, the tension morphs into an exhilarating electrification coursing through your body.

Max, having momentarily lost his grip on the lead, now battles to fend off Charles and Lando from making any hazardous moves that might threaten your dominion at the front.

In the heat of the moment, the radio blaring with strategic updates fades into the background as your vision narrows solely on the track ahead—you are a race car driver, a gladiator in this battle of speed, and nothing else matters.

The world dissolves into monochrome, your focus unwavering as you grip the wheel like it’s a lifeline.

Distant cheers from the crowd seep through your concentration, yet you silence those voices, drowning out distractions as you become acutely aware of the weight of the race, the dreams that hang delicately in the balance—everything is at stake.

You feel sweat trickling down your temple and a syrupy mix of anticipation and fear soaring through your chest, but as you approach the final laps, triumph struggles to emerge from the depths of your hardwork.

Amidst the exhilarating distractions, your attention sharpens when you catch a faint echo of Joseph’s voice cutting through the chatter. "Y/N! You did it! You won!"

The joyous eruption on the other end floods your senses with disbelief, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you.

In that electrifying moment, as you maintain your grip on the wheel for the last few seconds, reality begins to wash over you like an exhilarating wave, and the tears you could feel brewing now threaten to spill, your triumph intertwining with your vulnerability.

With the checkered flag waving triumphantly in the air, you ease down on the accelerator, the sensation of victory swelling inside you as you let a muffled cry of delight escape your lips.

You slow your car and finally breathe, releasing all the pent-up energy, as the realization of your success resonates in every fiber of your being.

"You did it, Y/N! You won the grand prix!" Joseph's voice dances through the radio, resonating with an infectious glee.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and for the first time, the roar of the crowd—a melodic blend of cheers—warms your heart.

As you roll to a stop, the world around you crescendos into a celebration of your harrowing journey—each twist, each turn, each heartbeat racing in sync with the rhythm of victory.

The moment is surreal, and as you step out of the car, you are not just a racer anymore; you are a triumphant force that turned dreams into reality, and no title could encapsulate the pride swelling within you.

You parked the car in front of the first-place stand, your heart racing as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a moment to absorb the victory that had just unfolded; it was surreal, almost like a scene plucked from your wildest dreams.

You stood on the hood of your car, exhilaration bubbling up inside you as you raised your fists in triumph, thrusting them into the air with a euphoric fist bump that echoed your unrestrained joy.

The cheers of the crowd swirled around you, a chorus of celebration, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it paused in honour of your hard-fought achievement.

The weight of every early morning, every late night, every moment spent honing your driving in the shadows now seemed beautifully light, overshadowed by the sheer thrill of the moment.

As you jumped off the car with a renewed sense of vitality, you sprinted toward your team, their faces lit up with genuine happiness.

It marked a pivotal moment, one where they no longer treated you as fragile or merely a woman in a male-dominated sport; instead, they embraced you like a teammate, a winner.

You felt the warmth of their hugs wrapping around you, their joy infectious in a way that washed away any lingering doubts you had ever held about your place in this fierce and demanding environment.

“I can’t believe we did it!” you exclaimed, looking around at their beaming faces, heart swelling.

Some laughing tears glistening in their eyes, as they crowded around you, lifting you momentarily off your feet, celebrating not only your victory but the growth of a team bound together by perseverance and shared dreams.

Max eventually pulled up in front of the second-place station, his car’s engine rumbling to a soft stop just a few feet away from you. He stepped out, the sunlight catching the edges of his helmet as he removed it, revealing a look of pure delight plastered across his face.

It was a sight that brightened your heart; his genuine smile mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce competition that had just transpired on the track.

You could hardly control the emotions that swelled within you. With an impulsive rush, you charged toward him, unable to contain the joy of your victory.

In a flurry of excitement, you leaped into his arms, a spontaneous act born from the adrenaline still dancing through your body. He caught you effortlessly, his hands cradling your back protectively, and in that moment, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

“I won!" you declared, breathless, your voice a mixture of disbelief and sheer happiness, as if saying it out loud might make the victory feel more real.

A grin split Max's face wider, and you could see the pride sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, you won! Congratulations!" he echoed, his voice turning melodic with the thrill of your accomplishment.

His embrace tightened around you, and you melted into the moment, filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect that had blossomed between you two over the course of your racing journeys.

As he set you back on your feet, laughter bubbled up once again, infectious and wildly free.

"I hope I didn't catch you off guard with that leap," you admitted, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice as you took a sip from your drink.

"Not at all! I’m just thrilled for you," Max replied, his cheeks flushed with excitement as he gave you a friendly pat on the back.

After the interview with the top three winners, you, Max, and Charles settled into the conference room, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the race replay flickered on the screen. The tension was palpable as the footage captured the thrilling moments of the competition.

"Wow! That was such a turn!" Charles exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow, clearly still feeling the adrenaline from the race.

He was referring to the intense maneuver where he nearly overtook Lando, a moment that had everyone on the edge of their seats.

As the race continued to unfold on the screen, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind racing with the events that had just transpired.

You focused on your breathing, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You had actually won.

Max, sitting beside you, noticed your silence and turned his attention toward you, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked softly, breaking the tension in the room. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of the race replay.

You nodded slowly, appreciating Max's concern but still feeling the weight of the moment. "Yeah, just processing everything," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

After the conference wrapped up, the divers were given the freedom to either retreat to their driver’s rooms or celebrate with their teams and families.

However, the atmosphere was tinged with concern. The race winner was notably absent, and everyone had been eagerly anticipating a celebration for your first victory.

But after you dashed out of the conference room in a flurry, you seemed to vanish without a trace.

Everyone, especially Max, who had reached out to congratulate you repeatedly, was waiting, eager for you to join them in the festivities.

Max had noticed your absence almost immediately after the conference ended. The smile that had danced on his lips dimmed when you didn't join the team to celebrate; he frequently glanced toward the driver’s room, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.

The more he thought about it, the more his concern deepened; it wasn't like you to shy away from such moments of triumph.

As teammates and family began to cheer and revel in the evening's wins, Max made the decision to search for you.

His quest took him to the paddock and then to your garage, but each passing minute only heightened his worries. "Where could you be, Y/N?" he murmured to himself, frustration lacing his voice as he traversed the familiar paths of the circuit, searching desperately for a glimpse of you.

His heart raced with anxiety; he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, his gaze landed on the door of your driver's room, slightly ajar, like a whisper beckoning him to enter. Without a second thought, he approached and knocked gently, "Y/N, are you in there?"

Listening intently, he leaned closer to the door and was met with faint whimpers that sent a chill down his spine.

Panic surged through him.

This wasn’t just a moment of celebration for you; it felt like a cry for help, echoing through the cold corridor.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed the door open wider, bracing himself for whatever he might find—though nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes when the door creaked open.

The scene unfolded before him like a nightmare; your so-called boyfriend stood menacingly above you, his hand raised as if poised to strike, while your frail form displayed clear signs of distress—your face bruised, tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as he took stock of the situation, the cruel contrast of celebration outside and the terrifying reality inside your room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Max's voice cut through the air, laced with fury as he stepped into the room, instinctively placing himself between you and the looming threat.

In that instant, your boyfriend's grip on your collar slackened, surprise washing over his features as he turned to face Max.

“Stay out of this, Max! This has nothing to do with you,” your boyfriend snarled, his bravado faltering under the sudden scrutiny.

But Max remained steadfast, stepping closer, his presence commanding as he glared at the man who had dared to raise a hand against you.

“You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. Y/N is my friend, and I won’t let you hurt her,” he replied, his voice steady yet filled with palpable tension.

Your eyes met Max's, a flicker of hope igniting amidst despair, and despite everything, the warmth of that friendship washed over you.

Max's voice echoed through the room, a mix of frustration and urgency. "You need to leave now!" he shouted, his eyes locked onto your boyfriend, who stood there with clenched fists and a scowl that could cut glass.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice through. Your boyfriend hesitated, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, but something in Max's tone made him reconsider.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice low and filled with resentment. "I’ll go, but this isn’t over."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you and Max in a heavy silence.

“Max, please…” you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse as the fear and pain slowly ebbed. “I just…I just wanted to celebrate, but I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought…”

Your voice faltered as the tears resumed their steady flow. Max's gaze softened as he turned back to you, the protective barrier he had formed in front of you embodying more than just physical defense.

“You can trust me, Y/N,” he said firmly, his expression shifting to one of concern.

With Max's unwavering support behind you, the resolve within you began to build.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, but a hint of strength colored your tone.

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lqveharrington · 3 months ago

Text

Everything & Nothing | D.M.

summary: The Universe might hate you and Draco with how many times you’ve run into each other in a span of your mutual breakup.

pairing: ex!draco malfoy x ex!fem!reader

includes: angst, slight fluff

a/n: uhhh, i don’t know why i wrote this but enjoy!

Fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor; bringing you both into each other’s lives whenever possible. Whether it was a random run-in at an obscure café or an unexpected encounter during a night out with your quite separate group of friends, you kept finding yourselves crossing paths in the most unlikely places which was weird because you both were studying under the same wizarding university, you never ran into one another there.

Each accidental meeting sparked whirlwinds of emotions between the both of you — anger, hurt, nostalgia, and a flicker of something you both thought you had lost long ago.

Harry and Ron didn’t care, in fact, they were delighted you and Draco Malfoy broke it off when you graduated Hogwarts. Hermione couldn’t care less about the boy, but she knew you two were completely and irrevocably in love.

“So, how did last night go with… Remind me, what was the name of that prick?” Ron tapped his chin as you stared at him with the thought of casting a horrifying spell on him.

Hermione hesitated, reached a hand out to stop him before you could pull your wand out. “Ron—“

“Was it not Malfoy? I swear he looked exactly—“

You flicked your wand at him, murmuring only one word that wouldn’t cause him too much pain. “Rictumsempra.”

Ron burst out laughing, causing the muggles walking around you to stare at him incredulously. Harry laughed at him as you wore a proud look on your face, making Hermione sigh and reverse the spell. Well, after a few more seconds of torturous tickling.

“If this is how you all will behave this evening, I will send you all home, do you understand?” Hermione directed her attention to the three standing in front of her, most of her irritation directed toward her other half.

She received half-hearted words of understanding before her face completely softened to look over at you, watching your eyes become distant again. She sighed and separated you from the boys, pulling you in for a hug.

“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione rubbed your arms softly, words quiet as you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She was about to ask again, believing you didn’t hear her when you responded with a voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it bad that I miss him?” You wipe a stray tear quickly, wishing nothing but to cover up your embarrassment. “Merlin’s beard, I’m crying in a bookstore about a mutual break up.”

Hermione continued to soothe you as muggles continued to look at them with confusion. This happened at least once a month. You would try and move on from him, but it all came rushing back to you like it was just yesterday.

You sigh and rub your eyes with the heel of your palm, “Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need, we just you got here so you’ll… be fine.” Hermione locked eyes with someone behind you, her eyes lighting up in surprise. “I’ll be back, I need to make sure Ron and Harry haven’t spend all their money on candies.”

You chuckle and wave her off before shifting your gaze to the bookshelves surrounding you. Did you need a new book? No. Do you want to get a new book even thought you have piles of them in your flat? Yes.

As you scanned the different books adorning the shelves, you found one that caught your eye, one that you’ve been wanting for months. Everywhere else was sold out, but apparently not this random bookstore Hermione brought you to.

Standing on your tippy toes, your fingers barely grazed the cloth material the book was bonded by. Just as you were about to clasp your hand around it, a figure behind you plucked it from the shelf, making you turn to glare at the person.

“Hey, I was—“ You cut yourself off as you faced the familiar man. Even after all these months, he still had the same face you fell in love with years ago, but of course he was maturing with his looks. You mumble out his name, making it sound more like a question than an observation. “Draco.”

He tensed at his name falling from your lips, blue eyes meeting yours. Every time he ran into you, neither of you would acknowledge the other, but this was completely different. He stared at you, hoping and praying that this wasn’t a dream. As he realized his face was in fact getting hotter by the second, he knew this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hi.” Draco breathed out, his resolve bending to your every will. He watched as you directed your attention to his hands, your hands spinning a ring he thought you threw out long ago. He blinked before clearing his throat and handing you the book, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was trying to be helpful.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter quietly, your fingers brushing against his, sending sparks down your body.

The room felt hot and heavy and you didn’t know what to do but stand there and bask in the awkwardness that came upon the both of you. You felt for the pages in the book before Draco pressed closer to you, apologies spilling out of his mouth the closer he got as an old woman struggled to get past behind him.

As she finally slipped through, Draco immediately removed himself from you; and from habit, tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear before realizing his mistake.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—“

You stop his rambling before he could go on for any longer, “It’s alright, Draco. No… No harm done at all.” You clasped your hand around the book, nails anxiously tapping against its hard cover. “Uh… It was nice to see you…”

Draco watched as you turned to leave before reached out for your shoulder, making you turn back to face him with a surprised look.

“Wait.”

You looked at the hand on your shoulder and followed his arm up to his face, feeling your own face heat up as his turned equally as red. He quickly removed his hand and tucked them into his pockets — you knew that meant he was nervous. And so were you.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. You watch him with slight amusement before nodding, lips curling up to an even bigger smile when you noticed his eyes light up at your agreement. You allowed him to lead the way before looking down at the book.

As you watch him head for the door, you stop him briefly. “Give me a second, I have to pay for the book still.” Before you could even hear how much your total was from the bored cashier, Draco shoved his muggle money to the cashier in hopes to make the process faster.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your face, taking the paper bag from the counter and making your way to the front of the bookstore to wait for him. You shut your eyes briefly as the small snippets of conversations floated around the store, the random tales of their lives making small movies in your mind until a hand softly squeezed your shoulder.

“Mm, you done?” You murmur, eyes fluttering up to see a content Draco. Tilting your head over to the cashier, you saw her making goo-goo eyes toward him, specifically a place no one decent should be looking at in public. “You don’t mind if we could talk down by the cafe, yeah?”

“Lead the way.” He gestured the front of the door with his chin, eyes watching your calm facade turn into such a fast filled emotion of annoyance and jealousy.

Instead of the bookstore with an over-eager cashier who was ready to get into Draco’s pants, you lead him to a quiet cafe with no one but two old men playing chess at a round table. The smell of freshly baked pastries filled your senses, making you hum in content and sit at your own round table, Draco sitting right across from you.

After a few silent moments, you sighed and stopped spinning your ring, looking up at the blonde in front of you.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Draco gave you a tight-lipped smile, fingers wringing with each other. “Honestly? Everything. I want to talk about our lives — more specifically yours — and how you’ve been.”

You blinked at him. You didn’t know he was still interested in your life, but you did want to know if he ever…

“We don’t have to, but I would like that very much.” He spoke quietly when he caught your dazed look.

Nodding, you begin spinning your ring again. “What do you want to know?”

He smiled softly and began the mirage of questions, each one you happily answered. It was like no time had passed since Hogwarts. It was like nothing ever happened.

Like always, Draco watched you animatedly talk about a new book series you started, your hands flailing around in excitement. His smile never left, even when you would bounce your knee up and down or when you would snap your fingers when you remembered what you were going to say.

In his mind, you were everything he ever wanted. It was heartbreaking to see your face fall when he brought up a topic that you both wanted to know but didn’t want to say.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, especially coming from me, but you haven’t… Have you been going on dates with others or, you know, have a boyfriend?” Draco murmured.

It was almost laughable how the prince of Slytherin fumbled his words and looked almost embarrassed to ask questions such as these.

You pursed your lips and looked over at the bustling street full of muggles. Your voice was quiet when you spoke that Draco could barely hear it over the sound of the people.

“I have, but I didn’t uhm… I didn’t enjoy any of them.”

“Why not?”

The music of a muggle artist you’ve come to love started playing, making you sigh in slight annoyance. Not that you disliked the song, but because of how similar the song was to your current life.

“They didn’t meet my standards.” You meet his eyes with a distant look, his own eyes shining with interest. “It seemed like none of them could because every time I went on one — which wasn’t many — something always reels me back.”

He hummed, glancing down at your ring with slight curiosity. “And what are those standards?”

You bite your inner cheek as you look off to the side where a happy couple was walking around a fountain and pointing at the water spouts.

“I’m not sure… Just someone who I know would understand me. Someone who will willingly indulge in my interests without being rude or judgmental.” You tucked your hand to adjusted your wand poking into your side. “And preferably someone who’s already a wizard or witch. I don’t want to explain the whole thing to a muggle.”

Draco raised his eyes brows in surprise before a small smirk decorated his lips. You were still a Slytherin through and through. “Sounds like fun.”

You scoffed, “Okay, your turn. How has the dating pool been for you?”

“Actually I haven’t gone on any.” He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, watching you flush red in embarrassment. “What’s with the face, princess?”

Stupid princess of Slytherin. You thought.

“I just thought you would’ve… Never mind.” You spin the ring again. Just before you could speak once more, Draco cut you off, surprise etching your face at the question.

“Why do you still wear that ring? I thought you would have burned it the second you could.” He tilted his head as your cheeks burned much hotter. “Or better yet, have thrown it in a rubbish heap.”

You glanced down at the Malfoy Signet adorning your ring finger. It wasn’t as big and bulky as Draco’s, but rather dainty with an emerald placed in its center. He said it was his mother’s and that she wished you would have it instead of her.

“It’s not mine to get rid of.” You slip the ring off and gently cradle it in your palm, the writing written on the inside practically a line you could recite any time if asked. “Besides, it’s too gorgeous for me to get rid of it.”

He hummed and plucked the ring from your palm, noticing your eyes following the movement carefully. “I gave it to you, so the true question is if it truly is yours or not.”

The clattering of plates and chatters from customers around you made you finally ask something that’s been itching to get out the second you agreed to talk to him.

“Why did you want to talk? And don’t say because you want to know everything that happened. And how come you never dated again? Was I that bad of a—“

Your eyes widened in surprise before pulling away, fingers coming up to touch your lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Draco started as he held the ring tightly in his fist, looking straight into your eyes. “Because I missed talking to you. I missed being around you without the tension between us. And I never dated anyone else because of you. You weren’t bad, you were… You were everything to me that I couldn’t replace. I couldn’t go on in life without you because I wouldn’t have anything. I would have nothing.”

Silence filled the space between the both of you as your heart began to pace faster and faster, fingers fiddling with one another.

“I swear, the universe either loves or hates us because I see you all the time and I couldn’t come up to you without you thinking it was weird.” Draco sighed and ran his slender fingers through his hair. “I know the break up was mutual for both our benefits, but I can’t help think about how our life’s could’ve been.”

You tentatively reach over his clenched hand and gently pry it open before lacing your hand with his, rubbing the soft of his hand to calm him down.

“I honestly am at a loss of words…” You began your own spiel but only stared at your joined hands. “I know that when we broke up it was going to be hard to move on. I… I really tried to but no one could ever top whatever we had.” You look up to his beautiful blue eyes that you swore could be mistaken for gray. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I think we should definitely try again. It’s not like we broke up to something horrible, but I guess we had different pathways for our futures.”

Draco took the ring from his palm and held it in front of you, murmuring words of distaste for a second. “Salazar Slytherin, I’m gonna sound like a fucking geek.”

You smile softly. You missed him so much. Even his stupid remarks.

“Do you promise we’ll try? Because even my worst nightmares couldn’t picture a life without you.” Draco matched your ever growing smile. “Because I have always loved you.”

Scrunching your nose, you leaned over the round table and kissed his lips softly before murmuring your own response. “That was really sentimental of you, you geek.”

He slipped the ring back on your ring finger before capturing your lips again, feeling you smile into it. “Well, I’m your geek, my love.”