#i never did finish that box of photographs

[museeeuuuum]

Just rewatched this for the first time since losing my job :(

[ozzgin]

I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending

"And? What are you running away from?"

"Excuse me?"

You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.

"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."

What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.

Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?

He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.

"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."

You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.

One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.

"Would you like to meet?"

You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.

As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.

The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.

"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."

You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.

It's your watchtower.

You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.

"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"

You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.

Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.

You're out of breath.

"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.

"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.

It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.

"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.

You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.

"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."

You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.

"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."

"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"

You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.

"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."

Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?

You blush.

"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.

[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]

[vitalverstappen]

Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part two)

summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in your childhood enemy and a new coworker you can't quite get a read on? You're in for a wild season.

pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, childhood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader, Logan Sargeant x platonic fem!reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, use of y/n, google translated Dutch, inaccurate descriptions of the Ferrari factory (literally couldn’t find ANY photos), mild slut shaming, brief mention of Jos Verstappen. Some of the race results are slightly inaccurate to fit the storyline. Sue me.

a/n: part 2 is finally here!!! Hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it!

word count: 24.7k

masterlist

part one // part three

Monte Carlo, Monaco

The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled your apartment as the oven timer beeped. You got up from your spot on the floor, past the dozens of half unpacked boxes that littered the floor, and transferred the treats from the oven to a cooling rack.

The offseason had treated you well so far. Charles and Alexandra had helped you pick out an apartment in Monaco, you had visited your friends and family back home, and you hadn’t seen a single gossip page post about you and a certain Dutchman.

Charles, Alexandra, and yourself were in the middle of attempting to unpack your stuff. You were grateful for the two of them helping you, but the building you had chosen felt oddly familiar. Though a finger couldn’t be placed on why it did.

“What are you even doing with all of those?” Charles asked as he got off of the couch and made his way to the counter opposite of you. 

“Giving them away to the neighbors” You said “A little offering for me being in the building” 

It was a gesture your mama had suggested when she heard you were moving out of the Netherlands. Three dozen cookies were scattered around your counter, with one last dozen being scooped onto the baking tray. Plenty for the people on your floor, and a few left over for snacking. 

“Why? You’re probably never going to see your neighbors ever again” He said, grabbing one of the cooled cookies and taking a bite out of it “These are really good” 

“Charl!” Alexandra chided her boyfriend as she finished setting up a few of your framed photos on the bookcase

“It’s all good, Alex. I made extra for a reason. Help yourself” You said as you slid one of the plates of cooled cookies closer to the girl 

You watched as her eyes lit up when she took a bite of the treat “He’s right. These are so good. Where’s the recipe from?” 

“Family recipe. I got it from mama” You replied 

“Ugh I’ll have to bug her for it. But I know your neighbors are going to love them” She said 

She was right, the neighbors that you got to meet did love them. As the days passed, you were able to meet the couple that lived to the left, the girl that lived to the right, and the group of guys that lived down the hall. But no matter how many times you knocked on the door across from you, no one was home. 

You assumed the apartment was empty at first. There were a handful of units that the building was trying to rent out, and the one across the hall must have been one of them. But your idea was quickly thrown out the window by small signs of life from the apartment. 

They started small, with Amazon packages in front of the door. The idea to check and see who they were addressed to popped in your head, but you quickly dismissed the thought. You wouldn’t be able to live down the embarrassment of someone catching you in the act.

A pair of APL sneakers were the next thing you found out by the door. They had to be male, with a size around size 41, and painted white with touches of navy blue. No distinctive marks about who the shoes belonged to. The shoes stayed there for a few days, occasionally with a padel racquet propped up against them. 

It wasn’t until you returned home one day that you got to meet the person who lived across the hall. You had been out and about taking photos while exploring the city of Monte Carlo. Your feet ached and all you wanted was to lay down and take a nap. 

You were at your door, fiddling to find the right key to your apartment, when the door from across the hall flew open. Jumping out of your skin, you turned to see who was the cause, and came face to face with the man you thought you wouldn’t have to see for at least a few more months. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Max questioned, his eyebrows furrowed 

“Trying to remember which key is the one to my door.” You said, jiggling the keys you had on your lanyard like it was obvious, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I live here” Max answered, pointing back to the apartment he had just come out of

At that moment, everything made sense. Of course the building felt familiar, you were in it roughly eight months prior after the Monaco Grand Prix. Of course Charles got all giggly when you told him this was the unit you chose. 

“Oh, riiighhtt” You said, pretending to remember as you searched through your keys once again. Thankfully, you quickly found the one you were looking for as you sped the next sentence out of your mouth, “Well it was great seeing you but I have things to do. I’ll see you around” 

Max couldn’t get a word out as you hastily unlocked your door and entered your apartment, closing the door behind you. 

But Max stood there in the hall, processing what happened. And you missed the small whisper of “It’s good to see you too” that left his mouth. 

Your camera bag was tossed carelessly on the floor as you whipped out your phone. Normally disregarding your prized possession like that would cause you to wince, but you had more pressing matters on your hands. 

The phone rang once, then twice, then a third time, and you were starting to think she wouldn’t pick up. You knew she was awake, it was the same time back home as it was in Monaco. After the fourth ring, her voice finally filled your ears. 

“Hoi lieverd, hoe gaat het met de verhuizing? (Hi dear, how’s the move going?) ” Your mama asked as she answered the phone

“Niet slecht, er staan nog steeds overal dozen (Not bad, there’s still boxes everywhere)” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Uitpakken is altijid lastig. Uiteingelijik kom je er wel doorheen (Unpacking is always a pain. You’ll get through it eventually).” She assured you. “Heb jij je buren al ontmoet? (Have you met your neighbors yet?)”

“Ja, ze lijken allemaal leuk. Je raadt nooit wie er aan de overkant van de gang woont. (Yeah they all seem nice. You’ll never guess who lives across the hall)” You said as you moved to one of the scattered boxes. It was labeled dishes. 

“Wie? (Who?)” Your mama asked as you started to put some of your plates away into a cabinet

“Max Verstappen” You answered. Silence overcame the two of you as she processed what you said “Mama?”

“Is dat niet prachtig, pompoen! (Isn’t that lovely, pumpkin!)” She exclaimed once it finally hit her. “Je hebt een bekend gezicht in het gebouw! (You have a familiar face in the building!)

“Nee, mama. We zijn geen vrienden meer. Ik heb je verteld wat er vorig seizoen gebeurd is -. (No mom. We’re not friends anymore. I told you what happened last season -.)” You began to protest, but your mama was having none of it. Your mama knew exactly what had happened with Max, but that didn’t stop her from her delusions. 

“Ja, ja. Maar je kunt hem beter uitnodigen voor een etentje. Nu moet ik gaan. Ik heb koekjes in de oven. (Yes, yes. But you better have him over for dinner. Now I have to go. I have cookies in the oven.)” She said. 

You said your goodbyes, and hung up, leaving you alone in your apartment to unpack, across the hall from an unexpected neighbor. 

======

Max returned later that day, bags full of items he bought on his errands. He was greeted by a small plastic sandwich bag on his doormat. A mere moment away from stepping on its contents, he only realized it was there by the crinkle under his foot. He didn’t think anything of it as he picked it up and carried it into the apartment with the rest of his stuff. 

The bag was filled with cookies, and a handwritten note was taped to the outer plastic. Calligraphy donned the piece of paper that looked familiar, but Max couldn’t place where from. 

Thanks for welcoming me to the neighborhood. Enjoy the taste of home :) 

The cookies looked exactly like the ones from his childhood. The ones he could only get at the grade school bake sale. The ones he would purchase with his saved up money from raking leaves and shoveling snow. 

Thoughts of what could happen crossed his mind. He knew it could easily end badly, eating some cookies randomly showing up on his doorstep. But the second he dumped the treats out on a plate, all worries left his mind. 

When the cookie hit his taste buds, he was suddenly nine again. The bake sale had just opened. Kids crowding around one particular woman, all trying to get their hands on that chocolate chip cookie. 

And now one of the few people in the world who knew that cookie recipe lived across the hall from him. 

Maranello, Italy 

The sun beat down as you skated down the sidewalk outside the Ferrari factory. Italy in the winter was warmer than you expected, much warmer than the winters back home, causing you to leave your puffy coat in the car. The cracks in the uneven sidewalk caused the board to wobble underneath you, forcing you to hop off before you reached the front doors. 

It was the first full staff preseason meeting of the year, and the factory seemed to have a new life to it. Naturally, you showed up a bit early, giving you plenty of time to poke around and take some photos. There was no real goal, just to get the point across that the factory hadn’t sat empty for the past two months. 

You were standing on the mezzanine balcony that overlooked the main entrance to the building. As people would enter, you were able to snap photos from above. Most people walked right under, not even noticing you were there, but occasionally you would be spotted and get a wave or two. 

Carlos was the first of the drivers to walk in. The clicks of your camera prompted him to look up, the classic confused look plastered to his face. 

“What are you doing?” He asked 

“My job” You answered before joking “Can you pretend to not look miserable to see me” 

“That’s kind of hard to do” Charles said as he entered the atrium, hearing your conversation. You rolled your eyes as you continued to snap photos of the two drivers. 

“He’s not wrong.” Carlos mumbled, fighting the smirk on his lips “But I meant with the tripod.” He pointed to the tripod that stood next to you, angled down at the atrium entrance. 

“I’m filming” You stated “Most of the film will probably be posted on the Ferrari socials, but some stuff, like this conversation, I’ll scrap and throw in a vlog.” 

“You’re vlogging?” Charles asked 

“Why?” Carlos added 

“Are you trying to become internet famous?” Charles finished, curiosity lacing his words. 

“What? No,” You said, rejecting his claim “I’m doing it to spread awareness about women in motorsports. There’s only a handful of us to raise the next generation.” 

“Wow. That’s a lot better than being internet famous.” Carlos said, clearly impressed 

“Thank you Carlos. I’ll see you guys at the meeting. I have a few more things I wanna shoot before I head to the room.” You said. The two drivers made their way under the balcony towards the meeting room. 

Packing up your phone and tripod, you headed down to the main level of the building to capture a few more photos. The loud chatter of people echoed the halls as the meeting room doors were wide open. As you entered, you were one of the last ones to the room. Charles, Carlos, Benedetto, and all the higher ups who you were sure didn’t know your name sat at the front. You made your way towards the back of the room, somehow finding a seat next to Annalese. 

“Hey” You said as you slid into your seat, carefully putting your camera bag at your feet. Since it was just the intro meeting, you had no reason to photograph Benedetto and the other execs droning on. 

“Hey! How are you doing? How was your break?” Annalese asked 

You shrugged. “Not bad, definitely busy. I moved to Monaco, which has been exhausting.” 

“Wait, that's so exciting! Didn’t Albon and Russell just move there?” She asked 

“Alex did? I’ve seen George, Lando and Charles quite a bit, but didn’t realize he moved too. We had a few game and movie nights during the break.” You told her “The only thing that sucks about it is that Max lives literally right across the hall.” 

“No he doesn’t” Annalese said in disbelief 

“Yes he does” 

“The universe really decided to torture you” Annalese chuckled

“Don’t even get me started” You replied “He hasn’t been a problem yet.” 

“That’s good.” She said before her face lit up. “Oh my god I almost forgot. Y/n, this is Isabella. She’s the new photographer we hired. Isabella, this is Y/n.” 

Your attention turned from your boss to the girl sitting on the other side of her. Her long brunette hair matched perfectly with her eyes. The name tag everyone was forced to wear during their first few days was pinned to her Ferrari branded polo. You were aware that the company had been looking for a new photographer to help lighten Annalese’s workload, but wasn’t informed they had actually hired one.

“Hi, I’m Y/n” You introduced yourself “It’s so nice to meet you. Welcome to Ferrari” 

Isabella responded with a soft smile as she spoke “Thank you.” 

Just like you thought, most of the execs that spoke during the meeting droned on. Once you heard one of them lack any enthusiasm as they claimed they were so excited for the entire season, you could block out the rest. The speaker that made you snap out of your daydreaming was none other than the new Team Principal, Fred Vasseur. 

“Wow guys” Fred began, his voice bellowing through the room. “It is an absolute honor standing in front of you guys today. I know each and every one of you work your asses off every day to make this team run, and I am more than excited to work with all of you.” 

Sakir, Bahrain

The first day back in the paddock was always nerve racking. Teams were making final adjustments to the cars before the public got to see them, rookies were about to make their debuts in the cars they dreamed of driving as kids, and you were back to running around like a mad man. 

Even though the paddock was full of anxiety and preseason jitters, it was also full of a sense of familiarity. Faces that you haven’t seen since Abu Dhabi, and names of people that you couldn’t quite remember. 

Ferrari had moved up to the second garage along pitlane, with Mercedes dropping and kicking out McLaren. Unfortunately, Red Bull was still on the other side of the red terminals, after winning the Constructors Championship last season. 

You were in the midst of giving Isabella her paddock tour, just as Annalese did you a year prior. The new photographer took in all of the information you gave her: which teams prefer visitors on what days, what teams to avoid, and which teams will let you sneak into hospitality and take a warm chocolate chip cookie (Thanks Williams). 

As you approached Williams, you noticed a blonde headed boy you had never seen before. He was standing next to Alex, who towered over him, the two of them in deep conversation. The blonde seemed much more reserved, taking everything in rather than doing much of the talking. 

You slowed your pace, glancing at Isabella to see her taking in the scene. Alex exuded his usual vibrant energy, while the blonde exuded a quiet focus, his blue eyes absorbed every detail. 

The Ferrari red polos always made you stick out like a sore thumb near the blue Williams garage. Alex quickly caught sight of you, waving both you and Isabella over. 

“Y/n!” he called “It’s so good to see you. How was your winter break?” 

“Not bad. Charles convinced me to join the Monaco group” you replied, excitement bubbling inside you

“He did? We’ll have to meet up sometime when we’re both back home. Lily and I will have to show you some of our favorite spots” 

“You’ll have to beat Charles and Alexandra to it” you warned before turning to your coworker. “This is Isabella, our new photographer for the season.”

“It’s so nice to meet you” she said, giving the driver and the blonde a warm smile.

“I’m Alex, and this is our new driver, Logan” 

Logan offered a shy smile, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. “Hi, nice to meet you both” he said, his voice soft but steady 

Isabella’s excitement to be in the paddock seemed to encourage the blonde “So, how are you finding your first race weekend, Logan?” She asked 

“It’s amazing” He replied, glancing at Alex before continuing “Everything is so fast paced, and there’s so much to learn, but I love it.” 

Alex chimed in “He’s been doing really great, really picking up on things quickly. We’re lucky to have him.” 

Logan glanced down to your red polo before remeeting your eyes. “Are you also a photographer?” 

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Yeah, I mostly work with Charles, but you’ll probably see me bouncing all around Ferrari.” 

Logan copied your nod, clearly intrigued with your role in the team “That sounds really cool. It must be amazing to be so close to everything.” 

“It is. It’s definitely overwhelming at times, but that’s just part of the fun” you said

Further down pit lane was Ferrari’s former neighbors, and sure enough the garage was bustling. Mechanics were busy assembling the car, engineers were analyzing the data from testing, while Lando and an unnamed man were yapping right outside. 

“So that’s Lando, he’s one of the McLaren drivers.” You informed Isabella as you pointed to the curly haired man. “And I’m going to be so honest, I have no idea who the other guy is.” 

At the sound of your voice saying your name, Lando’s head turned. The other guy followed suit, his eyes landing on the two of you. Lando broke into a smile upon seeing you, while the unnamed man’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Y/n!” The Brit exclaimed as he walked over to you “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you”

“You saw me last week, Lando.” You informed him. “This is Isabella, she’s the new Ferrari photographer” 

As you looked between the two of them, you could see Isabella practically throwing heart eyes at the driver. Was he conventionally attractive? Sort of. But knowing his playboy personality, he wasn’t someone you’d wanna be with romantically. 

“I’m Lando” He said as if it wasn’t obvious before motioning to the other guy to come join the group. “And this is Oscar. He’s my new teammate” 

“Hi guys” He said, a thick Australian accent peaking through. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, much less enthusiastic with the unexpected guests. You assumed his demeanor was just from the nerves of the first day, all of the new information and new people popping in and out was overwhelming. 

“I’m y/n” You said “Isabella and I are both photographers for Ferrari” 

You learned a bit more about the Aussie, both from him telling you and Lando making slight comments. Lando joined you in swapping stories from the paddock, filling both of the newbies in. Each time Lando spoke, you swore hearts grew in her pupils. 

“They seem nice” Isabella spoke as the two of you finally left the papaya behind 

“I can’t vouch for Oscar, but I know Lando is. Most of the drivers are good guys.” You told her

Thankfully she didn’t ask for any explanation on what you meant by most. Having to explain your personal childhood beef and adult situation with the reigning World Champion would’ve bruised your ego a bit too much. 

Finally, you found yourselves standing in front of the final garage on pit lane. The navy blue was ice cold, a complete one eighty from the slight warmth it gave you before. The garage was emptier than McLaren’s but still had a few stragglers working on the cars. 

“And last but not least, Red Bull. Last years Constructor’s Champion, and home to last year’s Driver’s Champion” You said

“And home to the best content team on the grid” A voice said. 

Both you and Isabella turned around to see Meg approaching. You shook your head, but cracked a grin as you introduced the two girls to each other. 

“You’ll probably be seeing her and the other Red Bull girls pretty often. Aside from being garage neighbors, we do collab content with them occasionally” You informed the new photographer 

“Speaking of which, we have something scheduled in an hour.” Meg told you 

Your eyes widened as you processed her words. “We do?” 

======

And that’s how you found yourself, along with the rest of the Red Bull and Ferrari media teams, outside the teams’ hospitalities. Two hippity hops balls were in your hands, one blue and one red. Yourself, along with Isabella were setting up the activity you were forcing the four drivers to do, while Meg, Sofi, and Jess were setting up the cameras and lighting. 

“What the hell are you making us do?” Charles asked as both him and Carlos exited the Ferrari motorhome. At the same time, Checo and Max joined the group as they made their way through the paddock. 

Holding up the hippity hops, a shit eating grin formed on your face as you answered “We’re playing a game!” 

When Max’s gaze first landed on you, his heart skipped a beat. Your hair color slightly changed since he saw you in the hallway, but you looked just as amazing in the Ferrari polo he knew you were forced to wear. He only looked away when Meg was giving directions. 

“The rules are simple” Meg said once everything was set up. “The first person is going to hop the hippity hop from this tape mark, to the table down there. When you get to the table, there is a track name written on a piece of paper. When you’re done drawing the track, you turn around and hop back. Give the ball to your teammate and they’re going to do the same thing”

“There are four different tracks so no one can cheat,” Jess added. 

As expected, chaos ensued. Opposing drivers tried knocking each other off of their rides, while laughs were held back by everyone on the media teams. Fans and employees alike couldn’t help but stop and watch for a few moments as four of the best drivers on the grid made an absolute fool of themselves. 

After a highly competitive race, the Red Bull boys were deemed the winners. The media teams cleaned up the mess that was made, as the four drivers simply meandered around, yapping to whoever would listen. 

You were breaking down the foldable table with Isabella as Max approached. Out of the corner of your eye, Max fiddled with the Red Bull can in his hands, trying to figure out what to say to you. 

“Hey” Max finally said 

“Hi Max” You replied, your focus still on the table that wouldn’t fold 

The hand that wasn’t messing with the Red Bull was stuck in his pocket. “Just wanted to say thank you for the cookies. They were really good” 

Your eyes broke from the table to meet his for the first time that day. “You ate them?” 

When you put the cookies on his doormat, you didn’t know what would happen to them. You assumed he would just ignore them or throw them out. The thought of him eating them didn’t come close to crossing your mind. 

“I mean, yeah” He answered as if it was obvious “It was the same recipe your mama always made for the bake sale, right?” 

“I-yeah, they are. She gave me the recipe when I graduated grade school” You told him. It was hard enough to process the fact that he ate your cookie peace offering. But for him to remember that it was your mama’s recipe, and the same one she brought to all of the fundraisers truly blew you away. 

“They taste just like how I remembered them,” Max said. “Hope the move to Monaco wasn’t too bad” 

“It was pretty easy. Charles and Alexandra helped pick out the place. The two of them and a couple other guys on the grid helped me move in and unpack. I think the hardest part was meeting my crazy neighbor that lives across the hall.” You joked, though it was partially true. 

“You two know each other?” Isabella asked, causing you to break your gaze away from Max. To be completely honest, you forgot she was even there. The table had been folded up and she heard your entire conversation. 

“Yeah, we uh” You began, not really sure how to label the childhood enemies to semi friends to whatever you are now. 

“We grew up together,” Max finished. You gave him a quick smile, thanking him for saving you. 

“Grew up together and I happened to move into the apartment across the hall from him. Didn’t even know he lived there.” You said “If you want to head back to Ferrari, go ahead. I’m taking these to the Energy Station and then I’ll be back” 

The two of you watched as Isabella made her way back to the red and black motorhome. Neither of you dared to move a muscle until she was gone. 

“How’s the new girl been?” He asked

You glanced back to the Ferrari motorhome to make sure she was gone before speaking. “She’s okay. Definitely gonna take a few races to grasp everything. She was eyeing Lando earlier when we ran into him on her pit tour” 

“Somehow I’m not surprised” Max said, shaking his head “He could breathe and girls would flock to him” 

“Right” You agreed. 

Max wasn’t sure how the first interaction with you during the season would go. He was expecting you to ignore him, storm off or cause a scene. The absolute last thing on his list was you being willing to hold a conversation. 

“Do you need help carrying the table?” Max asked, though he was slightly relieved when you declined the offer. His hands were sweaty, and with his luck, he’d end up dropping it. 

The two of you grew quiet as neither of you knew what to say. The sound of your shoes crunching on the broken asphalt filled the air. 

“So you didn’t move across the hall to get closer to me?” Max joked, breaking the temporary silence 

“No Max, I didn’t” You answered “I honestly completely forgot you even lived in that building. When I went to your place, it was late at night in a city I didn’t know at the time” 

“I figured. I’m surprised Charles didn’t say anything” He said 

“I’d honestly be more surprised if he had told me” You chuckled. Charles was definitely a yapper, but he knew you would’ve tossed any thought of moving to Monaco if you knew you’d be neighbors with Max.

“That’s fair, he’s picky with what info he shares” Max said “How’ve you been though, since last season?” 

“Really good” You answered “All the crazy rumors have gone away.” 

The words hit Max harder than they should’ve. You were never his, and he was never yours. But god did he wish you were. Rumors were the closest he had gotten, and he never wanted more than those crazy rumors to be true. 

“That’s good, glad they all died down.” He said. The last thing he needed was to ruin the civility between you. So, he swallowed the lump of feelings and forced a smile. 

You had dropped the table off outside of the motorhome for their media team to pick up when they got there. Quickly, goodbyes were said before you made your way back to Ferrari.

======

The race on Sunday was forgettable. 

Charles had done well until he was forced to retire due to an engine failure. While Carlos placed in fourth, the Red Bulls had taken the top two steps, with Max landing on the top. As much as you would have loved for Ferrari to join the Red Bulls, you weren’t sure if you could deal with hearing your national anthem yet. 

So, you volunteered to be the photographer that followed Charles to the media pen. It gave you plenty of chances to get more content of the driver. Most of the photos were going to turn out the same, just him yapping, but you didn’t care. The images would most likely end up on your photography dedicated Instagram account, and that was fine. You just needed a reason to be busy. 

After celebrating the win with his team, Max entered the media pen with his PR manager. One of the Ferrari drivers was in the pen already, though he only realized it was Charles when he spotted a familiar camera lens a few feet away. 

He moved through the rituals of answering the media's ridiculous questions, every once in a while looking to his right to catch a glimpse of you. Each time, you could feel his eyes land on you as well as the exact moment they left. You were able to quickly snap a photo of him when his focus was no longer on you. Another group of B roll images that would end up on your photography account. 

======

You were fortunate enough to travel back to Monaco immediately after your job was done. As much as you loved traveling and exploring the world, you were always happy to be home. 

The same couldn’t be said for Max. His plan was to leave Bahrain as soon as his media duties were done, but due to a failure in the engine, he was forced to stay another day. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if he didn’t have the cats waiting for him. 

Usually, the cats would be fine for a race weekend. He would have the guy down the hall check in on them, giving them fresh food, water, and litter. But, the guy down the hall went on vacation the same day Max was going to be back. It left him with no choice but to reach out to someone else.

It was late when you finally got back to your apartment. Very little debate was needed to decide that the unpacking could wait until the morning, opting for a warm shower instead. When you got out, you weren’t expecting your phone to go off. 

Max: Can you do me a favor? The plane is broken so I’m stuck in Bahrain for another day

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read the text. As much as you didn’t want to help him, you knew he wouldn’t reach out unless it was absolutely dire. Your fingers danced around before typing up a response. 

You: Depends, what do you need?

Max: Can you take care of the cats for me? My usual sitter left for vacation today. It’s just feeding, water, and changing the litter 

As his next message came in, you knew you had to say yes. You had fallen in love with Jimmy and Sassy the second you walked into Max’s apartment last season. It would be cruel to say no. 

You: Yeah, I can. Lmk where your key/the supplies are and I’ll run over

A sigh of relief left Max’s lips as he received your texts. He quickly sent over instructions on the cats, along with where his spare key was located. You shot back a “thanks” before going on your way. 

Even without Max telling you, you easily could’ve guessed where his key was. The only thing outside his door was a dirty mat. Without second thought, you lifted up the corner. Sure enough, a silver key sat under it. 

The key slid into the lock and twisted with ease. Twisting the knob, you pushed the door, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, knowing full well you were supposed to push, but again it stayed shutl. On the third attempt, the door finally burst open, and two pairs of cat eyes stared at you from the other side. Meows from the duo ensued as you closed the door behind you. 

The apartment looked almost exactly like you remembered it last season. His helmets were hung along the walls while some of his trophies were displayed on shelves. His sim was tucked into the far corner of the living room, flanked by more F1 memorabilia. You couldn’t help but chuckle when one of the newest trophies to his collection, the Driver’s Champion trophy, was carelessly placed on a mini fridge stocked full of Red Bull. 

Following the directions Max had sent you, you were quickly able to find the litter as well as the food and water. When you got to changing the food, Jimmy weaved his way in and out of your legs, almost causing you to trip over him. Sassy cautiously watched from a distance as you went about your job, but let you get close enough to her to snap a photo of the two cats. After one last look over the apartment, you made your way back across the hall. 

Max received one last text from you letting him know the cats were doing well. Thoughts of you taking care of the felines with him flooded his mind as he received the photo of them. 

Baku, Azerbaijan

You propped your phone up on a ledge in a relatively quiet corner of the paddock. At the start of the season, you decided you would vlog every single race weekend, and Baku was no different. It was the first sprint weekend though, giving you plenty more content. 

Outside of the motorhome, you filmed the introduction, including explaining the sprint weekend schedule. Because of the additional race, qualifying and practices had been altered, moved, or removed to accommodate. 

You’d be lying if you said vlogging felt completely normal. During the first race weekend, you were so in your head and convinced people were making fun of you that you almost completely scrapped the idea for the entire season. 

“What are you doing?” you heard a voice ask. Your attention turned from your phone to the stretch of sidewalk you were on. Logan was standing there, confusion plastered on his face. 

You smiled, a little embarrassed, “Just vlogging the weekend. Figured I’d share the F1 experience” You gestured to your phone where you quickly stopped the recording. 

Logan raised an eyebrow, stepping closer “That’s a bold move in this paddock” He chuckled, but there was a hint of genuine interest in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess it is. At first, I thought people would think it’s silly, but I’m really enjoying it now. It’s a different way to connect with the fans.” 

He nodded, leaning casually up against the ledge. “I get that. Everyone loves the behind-the-scenes stuff. It’s fun to see the real side of racing.” 

A rush of relief filled you as he showed his support. “Thanks. What about you? How’s everything going at Williams?” 

Logan shrugged, indifference shown on his face. “Eh alright. I don’t think the car is where it’s supposed to be, but there’s still plenty of season left.”

“Got to stay optimistic, right?” you replied “You know what would make you feel better?” 

“What?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing

A smirk formed on your lips as you stood up. “A fresh chocolate chip cookie from Williams”

Logan laughed, shaking his head “You’re not wrong, those cookies are to die for. It’s a shame I already had my allotted cookie for the day.” 

“Oh come on. I don’t think it’ll kill you to have one extra cookie. It’s a pick me up.” you teased 

“Tell that to my trainer.” Logan said “We’d have to sneak in there if we wanted any”

The wheels in your head began to turn, already plotting “Easy. I’ll need your help getting in though. You know I don’t have access” 

“Deal” Logan said, a playful spark in his eyes. “Just don’t let the team catch you, otherwise I’ll be in trouble” 

“Trust me, I’ll keep it discreet.” You said as you picked up your phone. “Do you mind if I vlog the walk to Williams though?”

He shook his head “Not at all. Honestly the entire thing would make for some good content” 

“Perfect” you said as you hit record again. “So change of plans. I ran into Logan, and we are currently on the way to the Williams motorhome to go and grab some cookies. For those of you who don’t know, Williams is known on the grid for having the best and freshest sweet treats.” 

As the two of you walked down the paddock, you and Logan talked about how he navigates through a race weekend, and how he’s feeling about his first F1 sprint weekend. You finally got to the Williams hospitality, your stomach hurting from laughing so much with him. You paused your recording to strap your phone to place it in the harness you got specifically to capture behind the scenes footage. 

“Wait, how are we even doing this?” you asked, looking at the American 

“I’ll distract, you grab the goodies,” he said, you nodded in response. 

After pressing record once more, you followed Logan into the Williams building, hoping that your Ferrari red would blend in just enough. The dining area was bustling, a couple of the team members chatting while others worked on prep. In the far corner sat the cookie jar. 

Logan walked over to the lady who was overseeing the dessert station, easily striking up a conversation with her. The way she was facing blocked her view of the cookie jar, giving you an easy route to take them. 

You walked over, acting like you belonged, and grabbed enough for you, Logan, and the two Ferrari boys, as you were filming with them in a bit. Once you had the cookies, you tapped Logan on the shoulder, letting him know you were good. Both you and Logan disappeared out of the WIlliams hospitality, into the blazing heat of Azerbaijan. 

Eventually, you got to the bright red Ferrari motorhome. The blasting A/C was a welcoming relief as you escaped the heat. Both of the drivers were sitting at a table talking, only noticing you when you approached them. 

“Well, well, well, look who finally showed up” Carlos spoke as he got up from his chair 

“Oh shut up” You said, rolling your eyes “I ran into Logan and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from Williams” Both of the drivers' ears perked up. They knew how good those cookies were. 

“Did you bring us any?” Charles asked 

You moved your hand from behind your back, showing two cookies wrapped in a napkin “You know I wouldn’t keep these away from you” 

“You are amazing” Carlos said as he, along with Charles, took a cookie. 

“I know, I know” You smiled before placing your camera bag on the table “It’s going to be a fun session today though” A groan left both of the boys’ mouths, cookie crumbs following suit. 

“The last time you said that you made us stick clothespins to our bodies” Carlos reminded you.

“Yeah, and that was fun for me” You smirked, “But I think you guys are actually going to find today enjoyable” 

Both of the drivers exchanged glances as the only sound came from you unzipping your camera bag. You took out one of your cameras, offering it to Charles. 

“You are becoming tour guides” You said “You can pick who's going to operate the camera and who’s gonna be on camera, but you guys are going to give a tour of the garage, motorhome, and general paddock area” 

In addition to the camera you handed Charles, you took out another one for you to use. While you strapped your phone back onto the mount on your chest, the drivers decided that Charles was going to record and Carlos would be in front of the camera. 

“So how do I work this thing?” Charles asked, clearly confused by the gadget in his hand 

A chuckle left your lips before you walked him through everything he would need. You could see the pure joy in his face when he discovered to zoom and focus by turning the lens. As he hit the red record button, you were ready to roll.

“Hi guys, today I am going to be giving you a tour of the paddock in Baku.” Carlos started as he looked around the motorhome. “Charles is here too, he’s operating the camera today” 

“Hello guys” Charles said as he waved his fingers in front of the lens, clearly way too close for comfort.

The tour of the motorhome was nothing short of boring. Carlos danced in someone’s empty office, in addition to almost spilling the entirety of the pot of freshly brewed coffee. As the three of you left the motorhome, Charles offered up the camera to Carlos. The Spaniard happily took it before looking to you like a lost puppy. 

“Can you show me how to operate?” He asked 

You passed the camera in your hands to Charles before walking over to Carlos. Just like you did with the other driver, you walked Carlos through the buttons and everything he needed to do a good job. Once Carlos got the idea, you took your camera back from Charles. 

“Alright guys, we are now in the main walkway area of the paddock. Most of the time spent here is walking to and from the motorhome and the garage, or to our various media commitments” Charles said to the camera

As you turned to follow Charles and Carlos down the pavement, you found Max walking towards the group. The smile on his face quickly dropped when he realized you weren’t the one operating your camera, and that it was Carlos instead. But the smile, along with an increased dose of nerves, returned when he saw you a few feet behind the driver. 

“Is he taking your job?” Max asked, motioning to Carlos. Both of the Ferrari drivers were hypnotized by their task that they didn’t notice the Dutchman. 

“You could say that” You chuckled  “I figured I should stop torturing the guys during my sessions with them and actually give them something fun to do” 

“I wish our media team did something like this. It gets boring constantly doing interviews” He admitted 

Your eyebrows furrowed “Didn’t you guys go offroading across Austria a few years ago?”

“I mean yeah, but that was years ago” He said “I mean I want more fun things in the paddock. You guys always have the best ideas” 

Your cheeks grew warm as you took in Max’s compliment. It was always fun when Ferrari and Red Bull worked together, but you knew where he was coming from with Red Bull’s ideas being boring. As much as you loved their media team, whenever it came to a meeting with them, it always ended with tons of their ideas being scrapped. 

“Thank you, Max” You said, a soft smile forming on your lips, “I’ll have to check our calendars and see what we have going on in the next few races. If there’s time, we should definitely do another collab” 

In the distance, you could see Carlos and Charles getting further and further away. If you didn’t follow them now, you knew you would never be able to find them again. Turning to Max, your soft smile turned into an apologetic one. 

“I’m so sorry but I have to go. I don’t need Tweedledee and Tweedledum breaking my camera” you apologized 

“No worries” Max said “I’m surprised you even let them touch it in the first place” 

A laugh left your mouth as you said your goodbyes to Max. You quickly turned around and jogged down the paddock to catch up to the two drivers who were still goofing off. 

The rest of the filming session went as smoothly as it could.  Shenanigans still ensued, but thankfully your camera was still intact, and filled with tons of content for you to use. 

======

It was almost ten at night when you entered the hotel lobby. You had just gotten back from the track, and by the looks of Max standing at the elevators, so did he.

“Hey stranger” You called as you approached the driver 

Max turned to see you walking towards him. You still had on your work uniform, and exhaustion all over your face. But when he locked eyes with you, a small smile formed, but your eyes screamed you needed to go to bed. 

“Hey, how was your day?” He asked 

“Long” You replied “And it’s not even close to being over.” 

“What? Aren’t you just going up to bed?” Max asked 

You chuckled as you shook your head “I wish. I still have to eat dinner and edit some of the content from today. I’ll probably get to sleep in a few hours.” 

Max winced as he heard your plans for the night. While he knew there was more to a media job than snapping photos and recording videos, he didn’t think the responsibilities would spill so late into the night.  

“Do you want a friend? Just so you’re not alone?” Max suggested 

“Oh, you really don’t have to” You said as the elevator doors opened. Max followed you into the lift. “You have to drive tomorrow” 

“So?” He asked “I usually stay up late looking at data anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem” 

“Alright, if it isn’t an inconvenience, you can join me.” You gave in “But I can’t have any distractions, I need to get this stuff done tonight. It’s all going out tomorrow” 

A ding filled the elevator signaling that you had reached the correct floor. The doors opened and you followed Max out into the hall. 

“Deal. I’ll go change and then I’ll be over” He said as he made a left down the hall, while you made a right. 

“Oh, and y/n?” He called 

“Yes?” 

“Room service is on me tonight” Max told you. As much as you wanted to object and say you could take care of yourself, Max had disappeared down the hall. 

You quickly made your way into your hotel room, showering and trading your work polo and jeans for a black Ferrari hoodie and matching sweatpants. As you set up your laptop and the SD cards of your two cameras, a soft knock landed on your door. Opening it, you found Max on the other side. He was dressed in a similar sweatsuit to yours, only being navy blue instead. His hands filled with his laptop and a pair of headphones. 

“Come on in, make yourself comfortable” You said as you moved to the side.

Max made his way into the small hotel room. The queen bed was the centerpiece, but two desks lined up against the far window, giving a gorgeous view of the city lights of Baku. He saw your stuff on the desk to the right, so he opted to place his stuff to the left. 

“So, what’re you thinking for dinner?” He asked as he took out the pamphlet that had the room service menu on it. 

“Depends, what are you getting?” You replied as you walked up to him, barely being able to comfortably look over his shoulder at the menu. 

Max could feel your presence behind him. Every breath, every movement was taken note of. A jolt ran through his body when he felt your chin land on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at the paper he was holding. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of the menu, desperately trying to think of an answer to your question. 

“I-uh um, probably the kebabs” He stuttered out, before handing you the menu over his shoulder 

Your eyes glanced over the menu, eventually choosing one of the chicken dishes. Max watched as you picked up the phone and placed the order, his mind still spinning from how close the two of you were moments earlier. 

“Alright, it should be here soon” You said once you hung up the phone. “Thank you for paying for it, you really didn’t have to.” 

Max shrugged “It’s no problem, really. It’s the least I could do to make your day a bit better” 

As the two of you waited for your food, you got to work. The main goal was to edit the tour that Charles and Carlos had given earlier in the day. Easy, right?

Wrong. 

It started with the fact that Max was simply in the room. There was nothing he did or said that forced you to take your eyes off of your screen to look at him, but you did. In fact, he was quite respectful. He didn’t say a word to you as you attempted to work.

But you couldn’t help but catch yourself staring at him. You didn’t know why, it was just Max afterall. Just Max who continuously made fun of you in grade school. Just Max who almost got you arrested years ago. Just Max who welcomed you to Formula One with open arms. Just Max who you cried to in the hotel in Miami last season. Just Max, who you developed a crush on last year that you swore you bottled up and put on the shelf. 

At least, you thought you did. 

It only got worse when Max realized that you were staring. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, only doing a double take when he saw your attention was on him already. He removed the headset and paused the video he was watching to turn to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked 

“What?” You questioned snapping out of your daze. “Um yeah, I’m good” 

Max’s eyes narrowed, not believing you for a second. “Are you sure? You were looking at me weirdly”

“Yeah, no, yeah I’m fine. Just lost in thought. Editing decisions, that’s all” You explained 

He nodded, still unsure whether or not to be convinced. Before he could question your reasons, a knock on the door caused him to break eye contact. 

“I’ll get it” He insisted 

You watched as Max got up from his seat to your door. After a brief exchange between the driver and the hotel worker, Max came back with two trays in his hands. You rushed over, taking the second tray from him so he wouldn’t spill. As your fingers brushed his, you fought to capture the butterflies that were taking over your stomach. 

“Thank you again, Max” You said, placing your tray down at your station. 

“Of course, y/n” He replied as he followed suit by placing his tray at his desk. “How’s the video editing going along?”  

“You wanna see it?” you asked, a smirk dancing on your lips 

“Of course” 

You scooted your chair closer to him, dragging your laptop and your food along with it. As you rewound the video to the start, you could feel Max rest his arm on the back of your chair. 

Laughter immediately ensued as you pressed play. The camera was slightly shaky as Charles’ voice asked for help on how to use it. Your voice was faintly heard as you explained, before cutting to Carlos introducing himself and explaining the reason for the video. 

The footage continued, showcasing the areas around the paddock, garage, and motorhome. Every so often, you would chime in, giving Max little behind-the-scenes tidbits. Suddenly, the film changed to a part of the paddock you don’t remember being at. 

“This must have been when we were busy yapping” you said as you squinted at the screen

“Yeah, glad nothing happened to the camera while you were gone.” Max said “You can never trust the two of them” As if on cue, the screen jostled and a view of the grass was shown. 

“He dropped my camera?!” You exclaimed, your eyes widened at the sight “I’m going to kill him” 

Max burst into laughter, clearly entertained by your reaction. “At least it still works” 

You shook your head in disbelief, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling in you “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the idiots.” 

Max leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, instead of a tour, you could title the video: ‘How not to handle a camera, featuring C squared” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. As you resumed the video, you watched Charles pick up the camera, his sheepish grin evident even through the shaky footage. “Oh he knows he messed up” you muttered, watching as he tried to make light of the situation, joking with Carlos in the background. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

As much as you loved traveling, you were thankful for Formula One to return to Monaco. Living out of a suitcase was tough, but the experiences you got made it all worth it. 

With you having a place in Monaco, you offered Logan and Oscar your place for the weekend. The three of you had slowly grown closer as the season progressed, bonding over running late to whatever track you were at, watching random sporting events, and a lot of FaceTime calls. 

“Holy shit!” Logan exclaimed as he walked out to your balcony, his eyes wide with disbelief. “This is your view?” 

You chuckled, leaving against the railing beside him. “Pretty incredible, right? It never gets old.”

He gazed out at the breathtaking scene - the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean stretching out beneath the blazing sun, the picturesque harbor filled with yachts, and the iconic winding streets of Monte Carlo. The only change to your regular view was the presence of the grandstands placed around the streets.

“This is unreal,” he said, shaking his head in amazement, “I cannot believe we get to spend the weekend here.” 

Oscar joined the two of you out on the balcony, a grin on his face as he took in the view for his first time. “It’s definitely a step up from the hotel rooms we usually get” he joked

You laughed, appreciating the camaraderie that had developed among the three of you. You knew Logan and Oscar had been friends, and former teammates in karting, so you were grateful the duo welcomed you to the friend group. 

“I figured it’d be nice to have a home base instead of just dealing with a cramped hotel room” You shrugged

Logan turned to you, sincerity in his eyes “Thanks for offering this. It makes a huge difference. I feel like I can actually relax before the race.” 

“It’s no problem at all” you replied “It’s fun having friends around” 

“You already have a certain someone around though” Oscar chimed in a teasing tone in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows, intrigued. “Max is across the hall, isn’t he?” 

The boys both knew about your situation with Max - the reigning world champion often being a topic of conversation on those late night calls, mixed with playful teasing and curious speculation. You felt your cheeks warm at the mention of his name. 

“Yeah, he is,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone casual, but the slight flutter in your stomach gave you away. “But it’s not what you think” 

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “What do you mean? Just friends sharing a building?” 

You nodded, though the teasing glances exchanged between the two of them made you a little self conscious. “Exactly. We’re just neighbors. We don’t even hang out when we’re both home.” 

Oscar leaned in, clearly enjoying the moment. “Right, but you two hang out in other places around the world, sharing room service and media content.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing but feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Okay, yes. We’ve had some fun moments together. But it’s all professional.” 

Logan chuckled “Sure, professional. Until you end up showing him more than just your photos” 

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile “You guys are ridiculous. Max is great, but I’m focused on my work.” 

“Just admit it,” Oscar said, still grinning “You wouldn’t mind having him around more often.” 

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t mind it” you admitted, finally coming to terms with the resurfacing feelings you had for the Dutchman. “But let’s be real. I have a job to do.” 

Logan nudged you playfully “Exactly, you can’t let a guy distract you. We need those epic shots of us on the track.” 

You rolled your eyes “I don’t even take photos of you guys.” you shot back, playfully dismissing him before disappearing back into your apartment. 

======

The Grand Prix being in Monaco though, only meant plenty of running around with the hometown boy and late nights editing content. Qualifying had ended hours earlier, but you and Charles were still stuck in the paddock, filming videos for all of the Ferrari social media pages. 

“I think we have one more to do, then we should be good” you said, your voice full of remorse “I don’t know why they chose to throw all of this on us with the race being tomorrow” 

Charles chuckled, running a hand through his hair, clearly tired, but still in good spirits. “It’s part of the stress of a home race. Everyone wants a bit of you.” 

“Tell me about it” you agreed as you set up the last shot. Thankfully the last thing on the to do list was a simple thank you video to the fans. Once the camera was set up, you moved the driver into frame, and pressed record. 

Even through the visible exhaustion on his face, Charles executed his words perfectly. Times like this made you grateful to work with a driver who was able to crank out the grueling work quickly, so both of you could get out of there. 

“Perfect” you said after stopping the recording. “Thank you again for doing all of this, it wasn’t fair to you” 

Charles shrugged “It’s like this, can’t change any of it now.” he said. You couldn’t help but smile at him messing up the saying ‘it is what it is’. 

“True. But you’re free to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” you said as you packed up your camera, tripod, and phone that was recording the behind the scenes 

His eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted “Are you not leaving too?” 

You shook your head. “Not yet. If I go home, I’m going to crash, and I need to get everything we just did edited for tomorrow.” you answered 

“You better not stay up too late though” Charles warned “We need you ready to go for tomorrow” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle “I’ll try, but you know how it is - there’s always one more thing to tweak. Regardless, there’s nothing a can of Red Bull won’t fix.”

A smirk formed on Charles’ lips, his eyebrows both raised. It took you a second to process what you had said. 

“I meant it as a general term for an energy drink” you explained yourself, thankful that the paddock wasn’t super bright so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks 

“Yeah, sure you did” he rolled his eyes, the smirk still plastered on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” He said before turning to head to the exit 

“See you tomorrow, Charles” you echoed before turning and entering the Ferrari motorhome

As you worked hastily in the paddock, trying to get everything done for the night, Max had entered your shared apartment building, ready to rest before the race the next day. What he didn’t expect to see was a certain American driver already standing at the elevator doors. 

“Logan?” Max questioned. Sure enough, the blonde turned around, his face filled with just as much confusion as Max’s. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just trying to get some rest before the race tomorrow.” He answered “I’m staying with y/n for the weekend. She offered her place.” 

Max’s eyebrows raised as Logan’s words hit his ears. She offered her place. They repeated in his mind. “Oh, did she?”  

Logan nodded, a friendly grin on his face. “Yeah, she’s been super accommodating. Figured it would be easier and cheaper than trying to find a hotel.” 

The elevator echoed a ding through the lobby. Once the doors opened, the drivers walked in, Max opting to lean up against the wall. 

“So you’re just crashing with her, huh? How convenient.” he said, crossing his arms. Indifference feigned from his mouth, but curiosity, mixed with a tinge of jealousy bubbled underneath the surface.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice being literally walking distance to the track. I’ve never had anything like this before” The American said, pressing the button for the floor Max shared with you. 

Max couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to mask his intrigue. “I’ll have to admit, she picked a great building to move into. But you didn’t just come for the accommodations, did you?” 

Logan shot back a look. He knew Max was trying to bait him, get him to slip up and admit something he didn’t actually mean. “Y/n’s a great friend, always fun to hang out with. She’s been showing me her photos and paintings. They cover her walls.”

Again, Logan’s words struck Max like a bullet, just as another realization hit. Logan had seen your apartment before Max had. He had seen your hotel rooms and childhood bedroom, but never your current residence. 

Max’s expression shifted slightly, a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Oh really? She’s shown you her art? That’s…nice.” The words felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to keep his tone light.

“It’s impressive. You should ask her to show you sometime” Logan replied, only slightly aware of the undertones of the conversation “She has a real talent for capturing the energy of the races.”

The younger image of himself blazed in Max’s mind. He knew all too well how good you were at capturing the energy of a win. 

“Sure,” Max replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. “I’ll add it to my list of things to do.” 

As they stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway, Logan continued to praise your work. “Yeah, it’s honestly great to see someone so passionate about what they do. It makes you appreciate the whole atmosphere in the paddock more.” 

Max nodded, his mind racing far away from the conversation in front of him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of you and Logan spending time together stirred something within him. “Yeah, she’s definitely talented.” 

The rest of the walk down the hall was silent, neither driver really knowing what to say. When they got to their respective doors, they exchanged nods, bidding the other goodbye. Logan turned first, Max expecting him to knock on your door, but was quickly caught off guard when he inserted a key into the slot. 

His heart sank as he watched the knob turn, the door creaking open quickly after. Logan walked in, giving no glance back to his gridmate before the door closed again. 

Max stood there for a moment, staring at the door. The reality of Logan being in your apartment felt like a punch to the gut. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the already built irritation. 

“Get it together, Max,” he muttered to himself. He had no right to feel possessive, and had much bigger things on his plate in the next twenty four hours. 

======

The Grand Prix was relatively forgettable. While Charles’ strategy was pretty standard, Carlos’ had to be one of the worst you’ve ever seen. 

“What the hell are they doing with his race?” you asked Annalese, running into her along the pit. 

She glanced at the engineers and strategiests sitting on the wall, each of them with their eyes glued on data filled screens. “No clue. Honestly we could call a better strategy than them” 

“Exactly” you agreed “Every time I’ve heard his radio, it’s just been him complaining” 

“To be fair, he does complain a lot,” Annalese laughed before bidding you goodbye to get back to work. 

Towards the later half of the race, you found yourself at the final corners. A few other photographers were there, all of you aiming to capture the final laps of the Grand Prix. 

As the cars roared past, you focused intently on capturing the action, your camera clicking in quick succession. While your focus was on the two cars in red, you could help but to capture a few photos of your roommates for the weekend as they drove past. 

To no surprise, Max had crossed the finish line first. You were able to get a few shots of him from a distance, as there were literally no other cars remotely close to him. As neither of the Ferrari boys finished on the podium, you made your way back to the garage, where you found Isabella looking at her camera. 

She looked up as you approached, as if she felt your presence. “Was your race as boring as mine?” she asked 

You nodded, “Yeah, the best shot I got was of this cool looking bird that landed on the railing during lap 65”

Isabella laughed, shaking her head “At least you got something. All I got was the pit wall’s collective frustration” 

“Well that’s their own doing” you chuckled. “I did manage to get a shot or two of Max weaving around the Anthony Nodges curve. The team is gonna have to pay big bucks for them though” 

“Oh yeah, they’d totally do that” Isabella said, sarcasm dripping from her words. 

You glanced down pit lane at the celebration of Max and his team. Laughter and cheers echoed all the way down the straight, with the Dutch Anthem soon to follow. 

“Are you going to the after party?” Isabella asked, forcing you to tear your gaze away from the commotion. 

You shook your head, “Nah, it’s gonna be total chaos out there. I have a bottle of wine and photo editing calling my name” 

“I get it. I guess you can kinda go out whenever ‘cause you live here” she said “I’m excited to see what the nightlife is finally like.” 

“Oh it’s fun.” you emphasized “Knowing Max, you guys will probably end up at either Jimmy’z or Sass Cafe. Just be careful. You never know what the guys are gonna get into” 

With one last glance at the festivities down the pit, you said goodbye to your coworker and headed out. 

======

Max needed that win badly. He needed the win to prove he was the best. He needed the win to prove to himself he was better than some American on the grid. 

But more importantly, Max craved the after party. The wild celebrations, the loud music, the flashing lights - anything and everything to help him escape the pressure. He needed to forget the win, forget the American, and especially forget you. 

Just like you predicted, Max found himself and the rest of the party at Jimmy’z. The club was alive, a whirlwind of energy and sound that enveloped him the second he stepped inside. The bass pulsed through his body, drowning out most of the doubts and expectations of the weekend. 

Except no matter how many drinks he had, the thoughts of Logan in your apartment still lingered. The image of both of you together, the laughter, the easy intimacy - it was a ghost that haunted him. Every beat of the music seemed to echo the sound of your door closing, with Logan inside. 

What made it worse was that neither of you were at the party. Every time he glanced around, he hoped to find you in the crowd, only to be met with a sea of unfamiliar faces. Max knew you were always hit or miss when going out, but he assumed since it was in a place you were familiar with, you’d be joining. 

As the night wore on, he pushed through the crowd, seeking distractions in drunken laughter and loud cheers, but the absence of you and Logan loomed larger. Each moment of joy was tainted by the feeling of something missing, a void he couldn’t ignore. A hole that needed to be filled. 

He started by surrounding himself with his friends. Lando had just gotten done mixing a set and was leaving the dj booth when Max found him. 

“There you are, mate!” Lando said over the booming music, his face lit up with excitement. “You like the mix?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Max said, nodding slightly. The music had been the last thing on his mind. 

“Thanks, it’s brand new” Lando continued, completely oblivious to the fact Max wasn’t listening. The Brit spotted the empty glass in Max’s hands prompting his face to light up again. “Next round is on me” 

Max didn’t have the time to argue as Lando made his way to the bar. Max followed, weaving in and out of the crowd, only to be handed a shot by his friend. 

The two men clinked the glasses before tapping them on the table and putting them to their mouths. Max downed the shot quickly, the burn a welcome distraction. 

“Congrats on the win again,” Lando said. Max barely muttered out a “thanks”, and for the first time that night, Lando’s happy-go-lucky disposition changed. “You doing alright, mate?” 

“Yeah, just tired” he replied, hoping Lando would drop the topic and move on

Lando studied him for a moment, concern creeping into his expression. “No you’re not.” his eyes narrowed, as if he was zeroing in on the problem. “You’re still mad about y/n and Logan, aren’t you?” 

“What? No.” He scoffed. Lando gave him a knowing look. Max’s shoulders slumped in defeat “Yeah”

Lando’s expression softened. “You’ve got to let it go, Max. You can’t let this ruin your night. Celebrate your win!”

Max ran a hand through his hair, frustration slowly bubbling up to the surface. “It’s not that easy, mate. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it.”

“Look,” Lando said, leaning in closer, his voice serious. “You’re going to have a million nights sulking. You can’t keep carrying this around with you. Enjoy the moment. Let loose. Go find some girl to entertain you for the night.” 

Max let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “You think some random girl is gonna fix this?” 

“Maybe not fix, but it could help take your mind off things for the night.” Lando shrugged, handing him a glass filled with god knows what

Max stared at the drink in his hands, the ice clinking against the glass as if mocking him. Lando’s words hung in the air, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him. It was true - he needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the spiral of thoughts that had haunted him since he saw Logan enter your apartment. 

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a girl who could fill the void that you unknowingly left. At the edge of the dance floor, Max caught the gaze of a small brunette. He quickly chugged his drink, placing the empty glass on the bar. 

“I’ll see you around” Max said to Lando before making his way back through the crowd

Max pushed through the mass of bodies, the bass pulsing with each step he took. As he approached the brunette, he felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. She was laughing with her friends, her smile bright and infectious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut. 

“Hey” he said, leaning in slightly so he could be heard over the music. She turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Hey! You’re Max right?” She asked, the driver nodding in response “Congrats on the win today” 

“Thanks, I appreciate it” He said, a genuine smile creeping on his face for the first time tonight. He couldn’t lie, the girl’s energy was infectious. 

The two of them quickly found themselves intertwined with each other, the beat of the music driving every movement. Max felt the tension in his chest ease as they danced, the thoughts of you slowly fading away. 

Meanwhile, you, Logan and Oscar had made yourselves comfortable in your living room. The sound of the Cars movie filled the background as the three of you split a bottle of red wine. Your laptop sat on the coffee table as you edited the photos from the day, constantly being interrupted by one of the guys. 

You adjusted your position on the couch, leaning back into the cushions as you sipped your wine. The warmth of the red liquid relaxed you, contrasting with the lively banter between Logan and Oscar. The American was to your right on the couch, his arm resting behind you, just close enough for you to bump into it whenever you moved. Oscar on the other hand was sprawled on the floor, claiming he needed to stretch. 

“Hey, can you pause that for a second?” Logan asked, looking over your shoulder. “I wanna see those pics from earlier.”

You looked at the laptop, filled with candid shots from today’s adventures at the track. “Sure.” you said, hitting pause and turning the screen to face him.

Logan leaned in, close enough for you to get a wave of his cologne. “These are sick. We need to get you over to Williams next season” 

“Yeah, good luck trying to get Annalese to agree to that” you chuckled

Oscar made his way off of the floor over to the other side of the couch. “You should post that photo of Max going around turn 19. It’s really good” 

You smiled at the thought, but still your stomach twisted. It wouldn’t be the first time you posted Max, but you didn’t want the fans to get the wrong idea. 

“Yeah, I might” you replied, forcing your focus back to the photos. “I just want to make sure I have the right ones picked out.” 

The three of you set back into a comfortable rhythm, sipping wine and tossing comments about the movie. But every time you caught a glimpse of the photos of Max, your mind wandered back to him, and the party you were missing out on. 

“Are you alright?” Oscar asked suddenly, catching the shift in your demeanor

You forced a smile, maybe a bit too big to be genuine “Yeah, just thinking about the shots” 

Oscar raised an eyebrow, not convinced with your answer “Thinking about Max?” 

You sighed, looking down at the photo of the navy blue car, the cursor hovering directly over the cockpit. “Yeah” you sighed “Kind of wishing I went out with them” 

“Are we that boring?” Logan asked, his voice dripping in pretend hurt

“Of course not” you said, “Just not everyday you get to celebrate a Grand Prix”

“You’re right, it’s only almost every weekend” Oscar said, your eyes rolling in response

As the movie continued, you tried pushing the thoughts aside and immersing yourself in the present. For now, you could enjoy this night, even if part of your mind was still on Max, hoping he was finding his own way to celebrate. 

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of your apartment door jolting. The sound was far from a knock. It was much more demanding, as if the cause was trying to force itself into your place. You exchanged glances with the two boys on your couch before you got up to investigate. 

As you approached the door, your heart raced with curiosity. You glanced back at Logan and Oscar, who looked equally as intrigued, their laughter from the movie fading into silence. 

You opened the door, just enough to get a peak who was behind it. On the other side stood a disheveled Max. He was slightly out of breath, the unmistakable scent of a party lingered on his lips. His apartment key was in his hand, and his focus on the lock on your door. 

“Max,” you spoke, causing the Dutchman to look up, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition. “What are you-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, an unmistakable voice filled the hall “Y/n!” 

Your head snapped to the source of the voice, your eyes widening as you made eye contact with a certain brunette. The reality of the moment crashed over you as you glanced back at Max, whose focus was now fully on you. The tension in the air was palatable.

“Isabella” you whispered, choosing your next words carefully, a knot forming in your stomach. “What are you doing here?” 

“Max invited me over!” she exclaimed, the same intoxicating scent wafting off her tongue. “I didn’t realize you two live together.” 

“We don’t” you clarified, trying to keep your voice steady. “I live here. Max lives across the hall. Isn’t that right, Max?” 

The tension thickened, his cheeks pink with embarrassment as he slowly processed the mistake, “Right” he agreed, turning to your coworker. “I live right there,” he said, pointing to his own door across the hall. 

Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind you, halting the uncomfortable situation. Max’s eyes widened, taking in the presence behind you as the warmth of a hand rested on your waist.

“Is everything alright?” Logan spoke from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Yeah” you replied as your tone grew harsher. Your focus was still locked on Max. “Max here just happened to forget which apartment is his. I was just helping him get the correct one. Right Max?” 

Max swallowed hard, his gaze moving to the hand resting on your body. “Right” he repeated, turning to Isabella and taking her hand as he stepped back.

As you closed the door, a groan escaped your lips, the frustration finally bubbling to the surface. Logan and Oscar exchanged glances, curious about what just transpired. 

“What was that all about?” Oscar asked, now sprawled out on the couch

“Honestly, I have no idea” You sighed, running your hands through your hair in exasperation “It’s like he completely lost his mind” 

“Max took home Isabella and thought y/n’s apartment was his” Logan clarified, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Oh” the Aussie said, finally sitting up, a look of realization crossing his face “I guess the good thing about this is that you finally know how he feels?” he suggested, an awkward smile on his face. 

Both you and Logan gave Oscar a glare that would wipe out an entire country. 

Oscar raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously “Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

======

Sunlight streamed through Max’s curtains signaling that the day was beginning. The night before felt like a distant memory, a surreal blend of laughter and reckless abandon that danced just beyond his grasp. He squinted against the bright light, wincing at the pounding in his head confirmed the reality of it all. 

Shifting slightly, Max felt the weight of his body pressing into the sheets, sticky and tangled from the heat of the night. The remnants of conversations echoed in his mind - the mix of playful banter and hints of something deeper. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had changed something, but he wasn’t quite ready to piece it together. 

With a groan, he pushed himself up, the world spinning slightly as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. He glanced around the room, still a bit disoriented. Photos of races and trophies adorned the walls, reminders of his life as a driver, but it was the incessant buzzing of his phone that caught his attention. 

Reaching for it, he noticed the screen lit up with a message. As he unlocked it, confusion flooded his head when he saw Isabella’s name flash across the screen. He had no recollection of her evening giving him her number.

Isabella: Had a great time last night! See you in Spain ;)

Max’s eyes snapped wide as the reality of the night before settled in. The conversation with Lando, the way Isabella had danced, and then the moment he’d invited her back to his place. But more vividly, he recalled you opening the door, the surprise on your face, and Logan’s hand on your waist, pulling you closer. 

His heart raced as he pieced together the details. Had he really invited Isabella back to his place after everything that had unfolded? How did the night spiral in ways he never anticipated? What had felt so carefree now felt tangled and complicated. 

He shot Isabella a half hearted text saying that he enjoyed the evening too, before setting his phone down, anxiety gnawing at him. Max knew he messed up. Big time. He hadn’t just blurred the lines with Isabella; he’d torched any chance of something real with you

Taking a deep breath, he raked a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the fog. He needed to talk to you, to set everything straight. But how could he explain everything without sounding completely insane? “Hey! I slept with your coworker trying to get over the massive crush I have on you because I think you’re sleeping with Logan.” wouldn’t sit well with you at all.

He thought about going over and knocking on your door to apologize for his actions, but didn’t want to risk running into Logan again. Sending a text seemed too casual for the weight of what he wanted to say. 

But then the debate of whether or not he even should say anything crossed his mind. What if you didn’t care? What if you were happily enjoying your relationship? The thought made his stomach churn, the fear of rejection eventually winning him over. 

Spielberg, Austria

You had avoided Max in Spain and Canada, dodging him at every turn. Whether it was ducking behind a stack of tires again, or taking the long way around the paddock to avoid walking past the Energy Station, you hadn’t seen Max, and Max hadn’t seen you. 

Isabella was harder to avoid, being coworkers after all. Thankfully, she seemed to get the hint that you didn’t want to interact, minding her business and spending most of her time in Carlos’ garage. 

It was media day in Austria, and while the drivers were in their briefings and press conferences, you had made yourself comfortable in the Ferrari pit. The buzz of the paddock felt familiar and comforting, a stark contrast to the tangled emotions you had been wrestling with. 

The mechanics and engineers moved around you as you sat on your skateboard, using it to glide down the concrete to capture pit stop practice. The sounds of chatter and clanking filled the air, creating a symphony of activity that kept your mind occupied. You snapped photos of the team, capturing the precision and teamwork that made their pitstops efficient. 

As you worked, the sound of laughter caught your attention. You looked around, trying to find the culprit, but you wished you hadn’t. Max was in the Red Bull pit, surrounded by a few team members. He looked relaxed, a stark contrast to how you felt. 

Your heart raced at the sight of him, and instinct kicked in. You shifted your focus back to your camera, trying to suppress the mixed feelings inside. 

“Are you alright, tesoro?” One of the mechanics asked, causing you to jump 

 You looked up, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a little distracted.” 

“Is Max causing you trouble?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye

You laughed softly, trying to downplay it “You could call it that. Just stupid paddock drama” 

The mechanic nodded knowingly, a sympathetic expression on his face. “I know how it is. May I ask what happened?” 

You hesitated, weighing your options. What is spoken about in Ferrari usually stays in Ferrari. But it doesn’t help when part of the problem is also in Ferrari. 

“It’s complicated” you finally said, glancing back at Max who was too busy yapping to one of his team members to notice you staring. “We were… close, but he took someone home after Monaco that I wasn’t expecting.” 

As if on cue, Max bid goodbye to his mechanics, turning towards the Ferrari garages. Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away, focusing back on your camera. You felt a rush of anxiety wash over you. 

“He’s coming this way” the mechanic observed “Maybe he’ll come and say hi”

“Doubt it” you mumbled 

Sure enough, the driver walked straight past you and the mechanic, his pace not faltering in the slightest. He stopped in front of Carlos’ garage, a smile grew on his face as he spotted someone inside. Moments later, Isabella emerged from the garage, embracing Max in a hug. 

Your stomach twisted as you watched the scene unfold. The warmth of their interaction felt like a punch to the gut, but you couldn’t get yourself to turn away. You could feel the mechanic’s gaze shift between you and the unfolding moment, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. 

“Looks like they’re close” he said quietly, trying to gauge your reaction 

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow “Yeah, you can say that” 

Isabella leaned in to say something to Max, his laugh rang out, carefree and easy. Jealousy couldn’t help but bubble up as you recalled his visits to your side of the garage only a season prior. The way he joked with you, the late-night run-ins in the paddock that felt so special. Now it all felt so distant, a ghost of what had been. 

“Come on, let’s get you in the car to get some different angles” the mechanic offered, noticing your shift in demeanor “I think there’s a wrench somewhere around here you can throw at him” 

Your laugh was genuine for the first time at the thought of knocking out the driver with the metal tool. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” You said as you stood up from your skateboard.

On the other side of the Ferrari pit, Max opted to give Isabella a chance. He told himself he couldn’t spend the rest of his life waiting around for you, the uncertainty of your feelings pushed him more towards her. Late nights and quick favors between the two of you were just signs of friendship, he reasoned. 

Still, he could feel your eyes on him as he talked with Isabella, and it took everything in him not to look over. However, conversation with her felt natural, laughter coming out easily, just as it did with you. Maybe, just maybe, the void you left could be filled. 

======

The weekend continued with Max popping up randomly in Carlos’ garage. It irritated you to no extent that you couldn’t predict when he’d appear, giving yourself a taste of what everyone else felt last season. He seemed to have a knack for showing up right when you got into a groove, your focus sharp and your shots framed perfectly. 

On Saturday afternoon, you were deep in concentration, capturing the mechanics as they fine-tuned Carlos’ car, when you caught a glimpse of Max out of the corner of your eye. He leaned casually against the wall, chatting with a few of Carlos’ crew members, laughter spilling from his lips. It felt like a dagger to your gut - so effortless, so carefree. 

You clenched your jaw, trying to focus on your work. The work you shouldn’t even be doing, but Isabella was MIA. Knowing the content needed to be out sooner rather than later, you stepped in. But now, you were regretting your choices. 

With every burst of laughter from Max, your heart sank deeper. You shifted your position, framing a shot of Carlos as he animatedly discussed tire strategy, but your mind kept shifting back to Max. Why did he have to be here, looking so at ease, while you felt like you were drowning in confusion?

“Hey, are you alright?” Annalese appeared beside you, her voice cutting through your spiral of thoughts 

You forced a nod, your gaze still locked on Max “Yeah, just doing a little extra work” 

At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turned. His eyes met yours, and suddenly you felt like you were going to puke. As quick as he made eye contact, you broke it, turning back to the car in front of you. 

“Right. Just work.” Annalease said, raising an eyebrow

You sighed, your next words quieter than before “I just don’t get why he’s here” 

Confusion crossed on your boss’s face, “Who? Max?” 

“Yeah, I mean Isabella isn’t even here” you added 

“What does that have to do with anything?” She asked, genuinely puzzled 

You turned your head to look at Annalese, genuine surprise on your face. “No one told you? I thought once it hit the mechanics, they’d be telling everyone” 

You recounted the night in Monaco, just quiet enough so the Dutchman wouldn’t hear from the garage entrance. With every added detail, Annalese’s emotions switched from confusion, to anger, then finally settled on pure pity. 

“I can’t believe he just waltzed in here after that” Annalese said, her voice low, eyes narrowed at Max as he laughed again with the crew. “That’s… seriously messed up”

You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. “Right? It’s like he thinks he can just pretend everything is fine, that nothing happened.” 

“People are complicated” she reminded “But that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass to show up here, especially with Isabella missing. It’s just inconsiderate” 

“I’m just trying to get this content done, then going back over to Charles’ side of the garage” you said, frustration peeking through your words “But every time I see him, I lose my focus. It’s like he’s some kind of distraction.”

“Maybe he is” Annalese muttered “But you need to take care of yourself first”

You watched as Max leaned in closer to one of the mechanics, his smile wide and disarming. “Easier said than done,” you muttered. “Every time I look at him, I remember that night. I can’t just turn that off.” 

“Then don’t” Annalese’s tone shifted, more supportive now. “Use it. Capture what you’re feeling. It could make for some powerful content.” 

“Powerful?” you asked, skepticism creeping in.

“Raw. Real. People want to see the truth behind the glitz and glam of racing. If you’re feeling something, channel that into your work.” 

Taking a deep breath, you focused on Carlos again, his passion lighting up the garage. You adjusted your lens, trying to frame the chaos, the energy, the underlying tension. Maybe if you captured that, it would help clear the fog. 

But just as you were starting to find your rhythm again, you heard Max’s voice cut through the air, directing some joke at you. His words were quickly replaced by the sound of your camera shutter, capturing the moment between the Dutchman and the Spaniard. 

You pressed the playback button, getting a look at what you just shot. The mechanics moving around the garage framed the two drivers in the photo, but what truly caught your eye was the growing tension on Max’s face with each camera click. Looking up from your camera, you could see why. 

Logan had joined Max and Carlos, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. Logan was usually easy going, getting along with the rest of the grid, but as he talked, you could see Max’s confident demeanor crack just a bit. It was refreshing to see the two time world champion falter, but you couldn’t understand how a rookie was the reason. 

======

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Max crossed the finish line far before anyone else. Charles and Logan followed behind, completing the podium. While you were thankful that Charles did well, you weren’t looking forward to seeing Max on the top step for the fifth race in a row. 

You trudged over to parc ferme, just as Max was pulling up the car. Thankfully, he was too busy getting out of the car and celebrating with his team to see you with Charles. Clicks of the camera filled the air as Charles got out of the car, throwing up two fingers as he walked over to you, his eyes crinkling through his helmet. 

“Congrats!” You said, moving the camera from your face, revealing a grin

“Thank you, thank you.” He replied, embracing you in a quick hug before going to congratulate the other drivers on their finishes.

You snapped a few photos of Charles talking with Logan, both guys animatedly gesturing their experiences on the track. As Charles moved to Max, Logan turned his attention to you, his smile beaming brighter than before. 

“Congrats Logan!” you practically yelled as you ran over to your friend 

He engulfed you in a bear hug, squeezing you slightly. “Thank you, y/n. I can’t believe it’s the first one” 

“First of hopefully many to come” you replied as you separated from him. “You deserve it Logan, you’ve earned it” 

You didn’t know Max was watching you as you continued your conversation with Logan. He didn’t want you to know he analyzed every inch of your face as your emotions changed. He didn’t want you to know that you had the same look on your face that you did in the hotel in Baku. He didn’t want you to know that he knew that you were in love with Logan. 

You glanced over your shoulder, checking to see if Charles was doing anything photo worthy, only to get a glimpse of Max with his team. He had his eyes on you already, the look in his eye sent a mix of confusion and annoyance through you. He shouldn’t be looking. His fling was twenty feet away in the other direction, also donning Ferrari red. 

Thankfully, the three drivers were forced through the post race interviews and to the cooldown room before you snapped on Max for staring. You found yourself a spot under the podium, perfect for capturing photos of your two friends as they celebrated. Isabella squeezed in to your left, a lovestruck smile on her face. 

“Good race, wasn’t it?” you spoke, trying to be as friendly as you could

She nodded enthusiastically, impatiently waiting for the Dutchman to come out. “Absolutely! I mean he just dominated out there!” 

You nodded, unsure of what to say in response. Annalese was to your right, giving you someone else to talk to as you waited. The two of you chatted for a bit until you lifted your camera again, getting shots of Logan and Charles as they walked out.

Letting Isabella stand next to you was a bad idea. The second Max walked out, his eyes were glued in your direction. You knew he was looking at her. There was no doubt about that. But for him to get all smiley and crinkly eyed while looking near you? It made you sick. 

“Can they just play the damn song and move on?” You muttered to Annalese, causing her to burst out in laughter during the trophy presentation. 

“You’ll be back in your hotel soon, don’t worry” Annalese reassured

Marina Bay, Singapore

It was no secret that Carlos was having a hell of a weekend. He already topped the free practice sessions, and took pole position, which sent excitement rippling through the Ferrari garage. The energy in the air was palpable with hope and anticipation as the team prepared for the race. 

So far, most of your weekend was spent running back and forth between the two red terminals, much to your dismay. Coming into the weekend, you were under the impression you would only be with Charles, but a certain brunette went missing for randomly long periods of time yet again. 

“Have you seen Isabella?” Annalese asked as she walked into Carlos’ garage

“If I did, do you think I’d be here?” You retorted, not breaking your concentration on the shot you lined up. Carlos was in deep conversation with his engineers, the intensity of the moment reflected in his face. 

You didn’t have to look to know Annalese rolled her eyes “Fair point. Do you know where she’s been? This is the third time today.” 

“My money is Red Bull” you answered “Y’know, with the two of them sucking each other’s faces off for the past few months.” 

Annalese chuckled, shaking her head “I did not need that image in my head. But she needs to get her act together. I can’t have one of my photographers slacking and spending time in a rival garage.” 

“Tell that to her, not me” you muttered, turning your attention back to Carlos, who was now finishing up with his team. 

“Yeah, you’re at least quick with your trips down to Williams” 

Once again, you tore your focus from your camera to focus on your boss. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in her words. “What do you mean? I’m rarely down there.” 

It was Annalese’s turn to be confused “Oh I thought with you and Logan-.”

“What? Oh no. Logan and I aren’t - we’re just good friends” you clarified 

“Oh, my bad. I’ve seen you and Logan together a lot recently. I thought something was starting” Annalese apologized. 

“You’re all good. But after everything with Max, I think I’ve sworn off liking drivers” you said “They’re too much for me.” 

“Fair enough” Annalese replied, her tone turning more serious as she watched Carlos. “Just keep an eye on Isabella. If she’s going to be absent, I need to know so I can plan accordingly. Carlos’ photos aren’t your responsibility.” 

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for her” you said

As the sunset in the sky and the race drew nearer, the energy in both of the Ferrari garages grew. You were in Charles’ garage, capturing the last moments before the cars went out on track. Just as you were about to make your way out to the track, you noticed Isabella finally striding in, a flustered look on her face. 

“Look what the cat dragged in” you called, getting Isabella’s attention. “Where have you been?” 

“Long story, but I got some great shots in the Red Bull garage” she replied, slightly out of breath and a sheepish grin forming on her face. 

It took every bone in your body not to storm down to the Red Bull garages and give Max a piece of your mind then and there. Instead, you pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind. There was a job to be done. 

You exchanged a look with Annalese, who raised an eyebrow. “Alright, just don’t let it happen again.” she said “We need all hands on deck everyday.” 

“Trust me, it won’t.” Isabella assured, her tone more serious now. “I won’t get distracted again”

Isabella made her way to the back of the garage, presumably to change out her SD cards. As you watched, you couldn’t help but wonder what caused the sudden shift. And you wouldn’t be surprised if Max was somehow linked to it. 

======

As everyone hoped, Carlos ended up on the top step of the podium, completing his weekend sweep. Everyone in red was on cloud nine, and for the first time since Azerbaijan, you didn’t hear your country’s national anthem.  

The celebrations in the paddock were long done for the day as you made your way out of the Ferrari motorhome. You didn’t wrap up until late into the night, so you were expecting to be the only one still left, but to your surprise, a familiar Dutchman was also still around. 

You don’t know if it was the amount of champagne you accidentally ingested during the celebrations, or if it was Isabella’s actions earlier, but something within you caused you to speak. 

“Fancy seeing you here” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the swirl of emotions inside you. Max was leaning against the wall of the Energy Station, a bottle of water in hand, looking at something on his phone. 

He glanced up, surprise flashing across his face for a second before returning to his normal indifferent stare. “Hey. Congrats on the win”

Your eyebrows furrowed in fake confusion as you stopped next to him “What did I win? I just took photos” 

“You know what I mean” Max mumbled, rolling his eyes, though a small smirk formed on his lips “But Carlos looked really strong, he deserved the win, and the celebration.” 

“Oh he’s getting every bit of celebration he can. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard Smooth Operator today” you chuckled, the memory of the Spaniard dancing to the music replaying in your head. 

Awkward tension hung in the air, neither of you sure what to say next. You looked around the dim paddock, for any idea of a talking point. It wasn’t until you noticed the darkness in the Energy Station that you spoke again. “What’re you even still doing here?” 

“Just unwinding after a long day. Needed the extra time to get out. You know how exhausting this track is” he explained, but by the way he was fiddling with his bottle and refusing to make eye contact, you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. 

Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with him, a swirl of suspicion and hurt forming in your chest. “You’re waiting for Isabella aren’t you?” 

Max paused, his gaze darting away for a moment before meeting your eyes again “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m specifically waiting for her,” he said, but the slight hesitation in his voice gave it away.

“You know I’m not as dumb as I look, right?” you asked, a small smile forced onto your lips “I know you two are together. I’m happy for you, you deserve it” Your stomach churned as you spoke. Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper, but you couldn’t let him see how much it hurt.

Max’s expression shifted,  gratitude and relief mingling in his eyes, only deeping the pain. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that” 

“But you better not steal her from Ferrari any more, Annalese might have your head on a spike” you joked, but a warning tone lingered underneath. Max chuckled slightly, but the tension in his shoulders remained. 

“Well she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions” Max shrugged, a hint of definane in his tone, seemingly indifferent to the fact that she only has access to the paddock because of her job. 

You crossed your arms as you spoke. “An adult who is employed. She needs to do her job” you countered, your voice firm yet wavering slightly, desperate for him to understand the reality of the situation.

“Oh like you do your job all the time” Max shot back, rolling his eyes with a smirk that felt more like a jab “I’ve seen you running around a lot with Logan. Seems like you have a type.”  

Your heart raced, confusion mixing with anger, “Max, what are you talking abou-”

“Don’t play dumb” he interrupted, his expression hardening as the tension grew dramatically “Everyone sees how you act around him.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his words, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flooding through you. “I’m not playing dumb” you shot back, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Logan and I are friends. It’s not my fault he’s actually nice to be around” 

“Nice, huh?” Max raised an eyebrow, though his eyes were red with anger “He’s giving you something nice, for sure” 

“Are you serious?” you asked, exasperated “You’re really going to stand there and accuse me of sleeping with one of my best friends?” 

“I’m not accusing you of anything” he replied, an indifferent mask suddenly plastered on his face, a clear facade that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just saying you get close to drivers in a way that makes people talk.” 

“And it’s just that, Max. It’s just talk. The same stupid rumors that were flown around when you and I were close friends. The same stupid rumors that meant absolutely nothing, because it was just nothing.” you bit back, your voice rising in frustration.

“So you’re saying it’s still nothing?” Max challenged, his tone sharp “You really thought people wouldn’t notice just how cozy you and Logan are? You’re not fooling anyone.” 

“Maybe I don’t need to fool anyone” you snapped, pure adrenaline fueling your words “Maybe I’m more comfortable in my friendships with drivers than you are in your relationship with a Ferrari photographer who happens to look like me.” 

Max’s expression darkened at your words, a mix of anger and hurt flashing across his face. “That’s low,” he said quietly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

“Weird, isn’t it? Facing the truth” you said, your voice steadier than you felt, trying to anchor yourself amongst the rising tension.

You took a step away from Max, and then another. The space between you felt charged, like a wire ready to snap. You didn’t want to back down, but your words lingered, creating a chasm between you.

Max’s eyes darted around your face, looking for any signs of an emotion other than anger, only stopping when he saw your lips. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in and kiss you. He wanted to tell you that you were all that he wanted, and no one could ever come close.

But he couldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella. 

And you almost wanted it too. You almost wanted him to tell you Isabella meant nothing. That it was all just some silly plan to try and get over you. You almost wanted him to confess he had been madly in love with you since you first reconnected last year. 

But he wouldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella. 

So, you turned any longing you had left into anger. Your fists clenched, dying to take a swing at the man in front of you. You wanted to show just how much pain he caused you through his actions, through his words. 

But you shouldn’t. You would lose your job if you did. 

And so, you walked away. You unclenched your fist, and walked away. Each step echoed the unresolved mess. The night air was cool against your skin, but inside, there was a mixture of liberation and lingering frustration. Though you said what needed to be said, the ache of unspoken feelings still hung in the air, heavy in your chest as you left him behind. 

Austin, USA

The events of the Japan and Qatar Grand Prixs were nearly identical: Charles qualifying within the top five, having a strong start, a poor strategy messing up his race, and hearing the Dutch National Anthem in the distance. It didn’t help that to top it all off, Red Bull had secured the Constructors Championship and Max had secured the Driver’s Championship with ease. The team needed a morale booster, and Austin was the place to try and do it. 

“I feel absolutely ridiculous” you said as you stood in the paddock entrance, waiting to capture Charles’ arrival for media day. 

He had convinced you to go all out with him and dress up for media day. Your hair was folded into two braids, and a cowboy hat rested on your head. A red bandana was tied around your neck, matching the bright red Ferrari polo that was hiding under your jean jacket. You glanced at yourself in the reflection of a nearby window, half-amused and half-embarrassed. 

“What’re you talking about? You look amazing” Annalese teased “You fit in with the locals” 

Your eyes scanned the area, only to find absolutely no one dressed like you. “Yeah, because the locals are dressed like a walking cliche” you muttered 

“Okay you don’t look that ridiculous” she said “Plus, Charles definitely needs the boost” 

As if on cue, you heard the beep of a paddock pass being scanned. Looking to the gates, Charles was walking through the turnstiles, donning a black cowboy hat, black bandana, and dark blue jean jacket. 

“There’s my partner in crime!” He called as you captured a few photos of him walking up to you, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “You look amazing” 

“Thanks” you replied, slight embarrassment still in your voice “I do feel a bit silly”

“At least you’re not the one in front of the camera” Charles chuckled.

Annalese and yourself walked with Charles down the paddock towards the media areas. To no surprise, all eyes were on the driver as he walked with such confidence. Fans and staff alike had their attention on Charles. Thankfully, any worry about looking ridiculous washed away as the three of you joked your way through the paddock. 

After a quick stop in the Ferrari motorhome, the three of you finally made it to the media pen. A few of the other drivers were already there, including the Alpine boys, and Max. For it being early in the morning, the atmosphere was lively, as reporters were prepping their questions. 

You and Annalese hung towards the back of the pen, being sure not to get in any of the drivers' ways as they approached the barriers. As Charles and Max talked to the media, you watched intently, each of the boys differed with how they answered the long list of questions. 

Charles, as always, had an easygoing charm, answering each question with a relaxed but thoughtful demeanor. He was clearly comfortable in the media spotlight, using humor to deflect some of the tougher questions while staying focused on the bigger picture for Ferrari. 

Across the pen was Max, who was standing a little more rigidly, with his arms crossed, answering questions with that signature confidence that was almost always tinged with a bit of confidence. Even though both championships were already on lock, there was no sign of complacency in his posture. 

A reporter threw him a question about the team’s performance, and Max’s response was sharp and succinct. “We’ve done what we’ve needed to do this season. It’s been a solid year, and I’m happy with the results. But we’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.” 

His tone was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that you knew too well. Sure, you had heard it time and time again in his interviews, but it was also the same intensity you heard in Singapore. It was the same bitterness and anger that was bubbling under the surface. 

Max knew you were mere feet behind him. He knew you could hear every single word he was saying. He knew you dressed in that stupid little cowgirl outfit so Charles wouldn’t be the only one in the paddock looking ridiculous, but god did you pull it off. 

As his interview wrapped up, you saw how Max’s eyes flickered danced around the room scanning it before landing on you. There was a slight glint in his eyes, almost telling that he was aware of everything - the outfit, the mood, the tension, and maybe even the unspoken distance between you two. And when his gaze met yours, the glint disappeared. There was no warmth, no acknowledgement - just a cold, unreadable look. 

You shifted your feet, suddenly very aware of the hat perched on your head and the bandana around your neck. You’d done this for Charles. Just for Charles. 

“Everything alright?” Annalese asked, noticing your stiff posture. You hadn’t realized you’d tensed up until she spoke. 

“Yeah, just Max is… being Max.” You didn’t elaborate. There wasn’t much else to say. 

Max was always intense with the media, but today it felt like something else - something deeper than just the team. Maybe it was the contrast between his icy exterior and the warmth of Charles, or maybe it was his sheer competitiveness, which never seemed to wane. But it felt almost like he was throwing down a silent challenge.

Annalese raised an eyebrow, “Max still has a way of making everything seem personal, huh?” 

“Yeah” you couldn’t seem to hide the bitterness in your voice. Personal wasn’t the word you would have chosen, but it was close enough. The fact that he could unsettle you with a glance, that he could turn something as simple as an interview into a moment of quiet conflict, was maddening. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Charles was finishing up his own interview now, his easygoing smile still in place, though you could see the familiar exhaustion behind it. When you first started with the team, you would be shocked at how tired he got after each interview. But now that you’ve been here for a while, you couldn’t go a day without seeing it. 

“Ready to get out of here?” Charles asked, walking over with a lighthearted air, completely oblivious to the tension that seemed to hang around. 

“Absolutely” you gave him a quick smile, happy to leave the heavy atmosphere of the media pen behind. But even as you turned to walk with him, a part of you lingered on Max’s last words. We’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.

======

You honestly weren’t sure how it happened. You were minding your business in the Ferrari motorhome, editing your content from media day when Annalese approached you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She knew something you didn’t, and you were about to find out, whether you liked it or not. 

“Hey, you free for a second?” she asked, leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed, the usual casual confidence about her. 

You looked up from your laptop, blinking a few times as you tried to piece together whether she was being serious or just teasing. “Sure, what’s up?” 

She raised an eyebrow, then glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was nearby. “So, you’re familiar with Drive to Survive, right?” 

“The Netflix show? Yeah. What about it?” you asked, sitting up a little bit more. 

Annalese smirked “Well, they’re filming the weekend in Austin. They’ve been bouncing around the teams trying to get some sort of exciting story line.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what she was getting at “What does that have to do with me?” 

“After talking with a few of us, they learned you do a lot of behind the scenes footage and are good friends with a handful of the guys” she explained “And they were wondering if you’d be willing to be followed around and interviewed for a bit. 

You blinked a few times, trying to process what Annalese was saying. “They want me to be on camera?” 

She gave you a knowing look, her smirk widening. “Yep. They’re apparently looking for someone with your kind of insight - someone who isn’t just a part of the circus but actually gets the day-to-day stuff. And since you’re always with the drivers and the team, it seemed like a good fit. Plus your following is going to help boost their viewers.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” you asked cautiously, trying to get a read on her expression. “What if it all blows up in my face? Or what if it messes up my work?” 

Annalese leaned forward slightly, her expression softening, more earnest now. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot. But think about it. You know I wouldn’t push you into something if I didn’t think you could handle it.” 

You hesitated for a long moment, lingering on Annalese’s words. Finally, you let out a deep sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But if this all goes to hell, I’m blaming you.” 

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in a room in the bowels of the paddock, away from the normal hustle and bustle of the morning of qualifying. You were the only one in a team’s gear, everyone else around you had their clothes embroidered with Netflix, leaving you to be the odd one out. 

The lights were bright, and the crew around you looked more prepared for a Hollywood film than a race weekend in Austin. One of the producers had mic’d you up, and was sitting on the other side of the camera from you. 

“Okay, y/n. Just state your name, and your role with the team please” She said, a warm smile on her face 

“Should I look at you, or look at the camera when I talk?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing

“Looking at me is perfectly fine” She answered 

You nodded, shifting slightly in your seat to try and relax, though the sensation of being under the spotlight was unmistakable. This was real. You were being filmed. There was no turning back now. 

Taking a deep breath, your eyes locked on the producer. “I’m y/n l/n, and I’m a photographer and content creator for Scuderia Ferrari. I also do personal content creation on the side.” 

The producer gave you a quick thumbs up, and gestured for you to keep going. “Great! Now, just tell us a little bit about your role in the paddock and what a typical weekend looks like for you.” 

You thought for a moment before speaking. You walked the producer through your day to day life as best as you could, as no weekend was truly the same. Being a team player and focusing on getting the best shots rolled off your tongue. The more you talked, the more relaxed you got. 

The producer seemed to notice, as her smile grew a bit bigger. “Sounds like you’ve got a good handle on it. So, you’re clearly around the drivers a lot. What’s your relationship like with them?” 

You couldn’t help but glance at the camera, knowing it would probably capture the slight shift in your expression. Talking about the drivers was… complicated. Max especially. He was still fresh in your mind, after everything that’s happened over the course of the last season and a half. You could feel the familiar unease bubble up, but you kept your tone even. 

“Well, I’m lucky enough to work with a few of them closely. Obviously, I spend a lot of time with Charles and Carlos. Charles especially out of the two - he’s always easy to talk to, a real pro, and I think we’ve got a good understanding of how to work together. I’m not in Carlos’ garage as much, but every time I’ve been with him or working with him, he’s been lovely. Both of the guys are real team players.” 

The interview continued as you talked about the highs and lows of Formula 1. You rambled about the trials and tribulations of your job, but how they’re all worth it in the long run. The producer asked a little bit about your own personal content creation, and how you’ve been able to get an audience of girls interested and involved in motorsports. 

The producer then glanced toward the camera crew, signaling that she was ready for the next phase of filming. “Alright, y/n, you’re doing great. We’re going to switch gears now and get a bit more personal. Is that alright?” 

You nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind. Personal? What did she mean by that? 

“Of course, what do you need?” you asked, trying to sound relaxed. 

The producer tilted her head thoughtfully. “We’ve heard some rumors - nothing too crazy - but we’d love to get your thoughts on what it’s like to be close to the drivers, especially in such a high-stakes environment. How do you manage those relationships?”

A little caught off guard, you instinctively glanced toward the camera before responding, your voice a bit steadier than you felt inside. “I think it’s a balancing act. You want to remain professional, but at the same time, you’re still human. You get to know these guys, you become part of their routine. You seem them under pressure, stressed out, and sometimes you’re right there in the middle of it all.” You paused, letting your thoughts settle. “The pressure can definitely build up. But that’s why it’s important to have boundaries. They’re still my friends, but I’ve got to keep that line between being a colleague and a friend.” 

The producer’s eyes glinted, clearly recognizing the deeper meaning in your words. “Sounds like there’s a lot of emotional juggling involved. Does any of it change when you factor in your relationship with Max?” 

The question hung in the air like a weight, and you immediately felt your stomach tighten. The last thing you wanted to do was delve into anything personal about Max. It had been a complicated relationship - sometimes friendly, sometimes strained. Right now, you weren’t even sure if you had a relationship with the man. The last thing you wanted was to make it seem like there was anything more there than what everyone already saw on the surface.

You took a deep breath, hoping to keep your composure. “Max… well, Max is an interesting case. He’s always been intense. He’s been that way since grade school. Everything’s always full throttle, all the time - whether it’s racing or his personal life. That kind of energy, that drive, it’s both impressive and a little exhausting. But that’s Max. And I get it, I do. I respect it, even if it’s a bit much at times.” 

Part of you knew you had to put on a facade while talking about Max. The world couldn’t know the shitshow that was truly hiding behind the scenes. But the other part of you didn’t need to fake it. Even though you wanted to kick Max into the next dimension, you still had such a respect for him.  

The producer jotted down a few notes, clearly intrigued. A smirk then danced on her face as he looked up from her paper, and you knew you were in for something. 

“Is it harder to separate the personal and professional sides of your relationship with Max, especially with the public watching?” 

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. It felt like the room had just gotten a little bit smaller. The public always wanted something - something they could latch onto, something they could analyze - and Max and yourself were prime targets. The last thing you wanted was to give them any more ammunition. 

“I mean there’s definitely noise from the outside - fans, media - everyone has an opinion. And sometimes it’s hard not to let that affect you. So I don’t think it’s harder to separate it with Max, but rather different. With him now being a three time World Champion and to know him so long, it always feels like the whole world is watching every interaction. But at the end of the day, he’s still a Formula 1 driver, and I’m still a photographer. Everyone here is just someone doing their job, and no matter how much the world watches, I have to only focus on what I can control.” 

The smirk on the producer’s lips turned into a genuine smile, clearly satisfied with your response. However, her eyes flickered with something else - a sense of realization. She jotted down another note and nodded thoughtfully. 

“Alright, I think that gives us a solid idea of where things stand. We’ll be capturing some more dynamics in the paddock, but I really appreciate your openness today, y/n. You handled the interview like a pro. We’ll catch up with you later today and tomorrow to film a bit of you in action.”

You exhaled slowly, glad the conversation had taken a turn away from the more personal aspects. As much as you valued your relationships with all of the drivers, it wasn’t something you were keen on oversharing, especially not in front of the cameras, and especially not about Max. 

As you left the room, you felt a slight sense of relief washed over you. The interview was over. The questions had been answered. But something about that last exchange - about Max - lingered in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if you managed to keep the mask in place completely, but you hoped the world would see it as nothing more than professional boundaries being drawn, not an ongoing emotional tug-of-war. 

Doubts quickly swirled in your mind as you walked. Were the boundaries that you set good enough? Was it a mistake to even mention them? Why did everything always have to come back to Max? 

There was only one person in the paddock that could soothe your uncertainties. Only one person who knew exactly what to say to make you feel at least a bit better. You made a quick detour past the Ferrari motorhome, your eyes scanning for a certain driver in blue. When you caught sight of him, you darted towards him. 

“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?” 

Logan’s head whipped around when he heard your voice, confusion plastered on his face. He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden appearance and the directness of your question. For a moment, he stood frozen, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what you’d just said. 

“Wait, what?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and concern. “What’re you talking about?” 

You ran a hand through your hair, wanting to explain yourself without sounding like a total mess. “I just - look. I just finished that interview, and they asked me some stuff about Max, and now I’m spiraling a bit. It’s complicated… you know? The whole thing. And there’s this weird pressure, like I’m walking a fine line, and I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. So I-” 

Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile that calmed you more than you’d like to admit. “You’re not making any sense, but I’m guessing you’re worried what people are going to think, and that Max is going to go ape shit on you again, right?” he said softly, his tone light, but understanding. 

You exhaled deeply, “Yeah. I- they asked about Max and I wasn’t prepared for it, and it’s just hard to explain anything without it sounding more personal than it is. I don’t want to give the impression that there’s anything more between us, especially with him and Isabella being a thing or whatever.”

Logan’s expression softened. “Y/n. We both know how the media can twist things, especially with a guy like Max, but I can guarantee you’re not doing anything to give the idea that there’s more than just two people doing their jobs. You’re doing a better job at keeping everything with him private than most.” he said, his voice almost hinting at something.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, confusion now filtering in your tone

“You mean you didn’t see what she posted earlier?” Logan asked, slightly amused 

“Logan, I was just in a dark room getting interrogated for forty minutes. I haven’t seen anything.” you reminded him.

He pulled out his phone, tapping on Instagram and finding Isabella's profile. A few months ago, he had mentioned she followed him almost immediately after meeting him in Bahrain. He eventually turned the screen toward you, where a photo of Isabella chatting with Sophie and Jos was posted on her story. 

“No way” you finally got out, disbelief dripped in your words. “Catching up with the best!” you read off of the screen.

“Yep. She’s really not shy about it.” Logan replied

Your fingers rubbed against your forehead, trying to process everything that was going on. “I swear she never ceases to amaze me.” 

“Right?” he agreed, glancing at his phone once again to check the time. “I’m so sorry but I need to get to the garage before qualifying starts” 

You nodded, knowing damn well you should have been in yours about five minutes ago. “All good. I’ll see you around.”

“Oh we'll be texting each other the second the session is done” he chuckled, though you knew he wasn’t kidding “If you ever need to vent, let me know. You know where to find me.” 

With one final hug, Logan turned back towards the paddock, making his way to Williams. You watched him go for a moment, feeling strangely grounded, before you continued on your way. 

And Logan was right. When qualifying ended, his name was the first one to pop up on your phone. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

The triple header in the Americas could not have gone any worse for Charles. A P3 finish fell between a disqualification and failing to start, but it didn’t come without damage to the car. It was safe to say that Ferrari, along with a few of the other drivers, welcomed the short break before going to Las Vegas. 

Thankfully, you hadn’t run into Max and Isabella during the time off. According to her social media, they had also flown back to Monaco for a bit, before they jetted off to Spain. That was fine by you, the further away, the lower the chance for you to see them. 

Yourself, along with Logan, Oscar, Alex, Pierre, Alexandra and Kika were in Charles and Alexandra’s apartment. The eight of you often found yourselves there, with most of you living in Monaco already, and Logan and Oscar happy to make the short flight from the UK. Multiple bottles of various alcohols had already been cracked open, and the remnants of beer cans were scattered around. 

Charles and Alexandra had made themselves comfortable on their couch, with Alexandra’s hand placed gently on her boyfriend’s thigh. Pierre and Kika were on the loveseat, with Kika playfully tossing her empty seltzer can at Pierre, the aluminum hitting him square in the face. Oscar and Alex were in the kitchen, trying to find another bottle of something to open. 

Too many drinks later, you found yourself sitting on the floor, tucked against Logan. The arm that didn’t have a bottle of Corona attached to it was lazily draped over your shoulder while you were nursing the bottom of a seltzer can. You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but at some point in the evening you had ended up close to him, his side pressed against yours as you both lounged on the floor in the middle of the action. 

Logan’s fingers traced the fabric of your shirt as he tilted his head back, watching the others with a half-smile. For the first time in a long time, everything felt…easy. You could feel the weight of everything that had been building up in your mind, the endless questions about boundaries and relationships, the complexities of being so close to this world, and yet trying to stay on the sidelines. For the first time in a while, you weren’t worrying about any of it. 

“Are you trying to hypnotize me with your fingers, or is that just how you relax?” you asked lightly, breaking the quiet tension.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to you, and for a split second, you could see the amusement in his gaze before he shrugged, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe both” he teased, his thumb moving slightly to catch a stray lock of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes, but the soft blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I don’t know about hypnotizing, but it’s definitely… distracting” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Logan chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and leaned back slightly, pulling you closer without a second thought. His body was warm next to yours, his presence now inescapable as his arm tightened slightly around you. “I’ll take that as a compliment” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something else - something unspoken, something that lingered between you in the air, neither of you quite acknowledging it fully. 

From across the room, you could hear Oscar and Alex laughing about something in the kitchen, their voices rising above the clinking of glass and the low chatter. Pierre and Kika were now in the middle of an exaggerated argument over who ate the last potato chip in the bag. Charles and Alexandra were in hushed conversation as their eyes glanced at the movie playing on the TV. 

You knew Logan. Knew the easygoing confidence that he wore like a second skin. And still, there was something different about the way he was acting tonight Something that made you feel a little unsure. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the other way around. Perhaps it wasn’t him that had changed, but you, starting to notice the things you’d pushed aside for far too long. 

Logan’s chuckle seemed to vibrate through you, warm and low, a sound you could feel more than hear. His voice broke the calm tension again, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re being quiet now. That’s not like you.” 

You shifted a little, suddenly aware of the limited space between you, of how easy it was to let the moment carry on. “Just thinking” you muttered, trying to keep the conversation light, to keep things from tipping into something more serious. 

“About what?” His voice was softer now, more curious than teasing. He didn’t let his arm move away from your shoulder, not yet, like it was the easiest thing in the world to have you close. 

You hesitated. You could feel the question pushing down on you, the debate of how much of your inner world you were willing to share right now. Was it too soon? Or was it that Logan, of all people, made it easier to be honest than you’d ever let yourself be?

“It’s just…” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed for not letting go of everything, like you usually would when it came to Max. But maybe that was the problem. You weren’t with Max right now. “I’m not sure anymore… where I stand with all of this. With… well, everything”

Logan paid close attention, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced with something more attuned, more patient. His gaze was softer than it had been before. “You mean with Max? And everything that’s been happening with him and Isabella?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the can in your hands, unwilling to meet his gaze just yet. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m caught in the middle of something I never asked to be a part of.” you admitted 

Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, but you could see the gears turning behind his eyes. His thumb brushed against your skin again, the contact reassuring, grounding. “You’re not caught in the middle. You just care too much about things that aren’t yours to fix.” His tone was gentle, but there was something firm underneath it, like he was trying to make sure you understood. “You don’t have to be the one who sorts everything out. Sometimes things just… unfold on their own.”

You glanced up at him then, unsure of what you were expecting, but the steadiness of his gaze made you feel lighter somehow. Like maybe he had a point. 

The sound of glass clanking and a chorus of yells brought you back to reality. You and Logan were the only ones left in the living room, as the other four joined Oscar and Alex in the kitchen. 

“I feel like we should go check that out,” you said, standing up from the floor.

Logan agreed, and the two of you made your way into the kitchen. When you stepped inside, the scene in front of you was just as chaotic as you expected. Oscar was holding up a bottle of tequila triumphantly, while Alex and Pierre were in the midst of arguing about if the liquor was “actually drinkable”. Charles was going through his cabinets, trying to find something as Kika and Alexandra were to the side, laughing as they shook their heads. 

You approached the counter, with Logan following suit. As you rested yourself against the cool granite, you felt the warmth of Logan’s body against your back and one of his hands resting on your waist. Kika and Alexandra exchanged glances before raising their eyebrows at you. In response, you shrugged, not wanting to draw any more attention to the driver that was glued to you. 

However, the girls would not let it go. As Logan got wrapped up in the boy’s shenanigans, Kika and Alexandra pulled you into one of the guest rooms. 

“What is going on?” Kika asked, a drunken giggle coming out of her mouth. 

You blinked as the door clicked shut behind you, a momentary wave of confusion sweeping over you. The two girls were leaning against the wall, Kika trying to look serious, but her grin betraying her, while Alexandra simply raised an eyebrow in a knowing way.

“Honestly, I-” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t exactly sure what you should be saying. It wasn’t like anything happened with Logan - well not yet, anyway - but it felt like there was this subtle undercurrent between you that both Kika and Alexandra were so clearly picking up on. 

“Don’t even try to play innocent” Kika giggled, her voice slurring just a little from the drinks she’d had, but her eyes were sharp. “We’ve been watching you two all night.” 

You glanced at Alexandra, whose arms were crossed but a soft smirk tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what you mean.” you said, though you could feel your face heating up. 

Alexandra wasn’t buying it “Uh-huh. You’re both acting like it’s just another casual hangout, but since when do you two sit that close?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but Kika cut you off with a playful wave of her hand “Don’t try to play the ‘I don’t know’ card. We’re not blind.” She paused, her eyes narrowing with a mischievous twinkle. “So… what’s the deal? Something’s happening isn’t it?” 

Your stomach twisted slightly at the question. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest a little harder now. Of course, it wasn’t just the alcohol that had made everything feel easier tonight - it was Logan, too. But did that mean anything?

“Nothing’s happened.” you said carefully “We’ve just been hanging out. That’s it”

“Yeah right” Alexandra said, her smirk widening. “You know, you could tell us the truth. You two are practically glued together.”

“It’s just easy with him” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “There’s no…pressure, you know? It just feels like… like it should be this way.”

Kika tilted her head, her expression more thoughtful now, her drunk giggles gone for the moment. “So you are into him?” 

You felt your face heat up again. It wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for it, but it seemed like the only way to answer. “I don’t know, honestly. But I guess there’s something about him that’s… different. Makes everything feel easy.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously. “But I’m just not sure where I stand with everything else right now.” 

Alexandra stepped forward, her expression shifted to something more serious. “I get it. You’re trying to figure out if what you’re feeling is real, or if it’s just the situation.” She paused, her gaze soft but intense “You deserve to explore this with him, without holding back. You’ve been in that… other situation with Max for so long, but maybe it’s time to let someone else in.” 

At the mention of his name, you froze. You were instantly transported back to Singapore, that night in the paddock. Seems like you have a type. 

“Don’t you think I’m jumping into something too soon?” you mumbled, suddenly becoming well aware of your hands and the way they fidgeted.

Kika caught your eye, and her expression softened “No one’s saying you need to rush into anything, but it’s okay to let yourself breathe. You’ve been wrapped up in that for too long.” She said, the words shared an understanding. Like they were burdens you were trying to carry, but time to let go of. 

Alexandra leaned in a little, her voice softer now. “Sometimes moments happen when you’re not trying to force them. Just let yourself see where it goes. With him.” 

Barcelona, Spain

The cool Barcelona air hit Max as soon as he made his way out to the balcony of his hotel room. It was a welcome change from the stuffy, heated atmosphere inside, the weight of the day lifting as the wind brushed past his face. The city lights flickered beneath him, painting the streets below with the soft glow of late-night life. 

Isabella had already gone to bed. She had been with him all evening, talking, her hand resting casually on his arm, full attention on him. She had been sweet, supportive, asking how his day went, listening attentively to his thoughts. But despite her presence, despite the affection she had shown, Max felt… disconnected. His interactions with her were starting to feel more like a routine more than anything real. Like he had fallen into a rhythm that wasn’t his own. 

Max wasn’t a stranger to the demands of his relationship. He’d always known Isabella liked to be close, ever since she started popping up in the Red Bull garage, looking for him. But tonight, something about it felt stifling. The worst part was that he didn’t know why. She was everything he had once wanted in a partner - supportive, loyal, there when he needed her. And yet, he stood alone on the balcony in the middle of the night, all he felt was nothing. 

Leaning against the railing, he exhaled a long breath, watching the way the lights of the city seemed to pulse and breathe along with him. But even as the quiet of the night settled in, there was a different kind of noise inside his head. It wasn’t just about Isabella, but about you. The way things had ended in Singapore - the words he had said, the way you had walked away. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket. Max wasn’t sure what he was hoping for anymore, but his thumb tapped through his apps, aimlessly landing on Instagram. 

His mind flashed back to Singapore again. The heat of the moment, the exchange of glances, the accusations that had been thrown with no proof. Then that moment when you walked away. 

Max knew that wasn’t how he wanted things to end. Far from it. He wasn’t good with emotions, he never had been, especially when it came to you. But that wasn’t an excuse. He hadn’t been fair to you. 

He scrolled through his feed absently, his thumb moving without purpose, until he saw a recent post. It was a photo of you - captured in a candid moment, a shot from Brazil. You were laughing with some of the Ferrari mechanics, and even from a distance, the warmth of your eyes was unmistakable. 

It was stupid, he knew. But just seeing it made him ache. He hadn’t meant to go this far. He hadn’t planned on checking up on you. But the post was like a pull - a reminder of something he didn’t want to forget. 

Max tapped the photo, noticing an account was tagged. y/nl/n.jpeg. He knew Lando and Daniel had accounts with similar names, so he tapped. A small part of him almost hoped he wouldn’t find anything. That somehow it would lead to a dead end. But instead, your profile opened in front of him, fun and captivating, just like you. 

The profile picture was you standing on the track in Monaco, your camera in your hand, a confident smirk on your face. Max had seen that smile plenty of times before, felt its warmth, and he realized with a sharp pang in his chest that he missed it. He missed you - the way everything was so easy with you, how he didn’t need to hold anything back. 

He scrolled through the feed, quickly realizing this wasn’t the same account as your personal one. Photos from races around the world, photos that you had taken, were posted. Your face was nowhere to be found, it was only how your lens viewed the world. 

There were photos of sunsets over the racetracks, candid shots of teammates laughing in the paddock, and even pictures of fans in the stands, their faces alight with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile at how well you captured these moments. It was clear you were more than just a bystander; you were present in a way that only someone who truly understood the sport could be. 

He tapped on a picture of a sunset from Austin - one of the most stunning shots Max had ever seen of the Texas sky turning orange and purple, Charles’ car streaking across the horizon. The image was perfectly composed, the light bleeding into the asphalt, and for a moment, Max felt like he was back there, in the heart of the weekend. 

He scrolled through the carousel of photos that were attached. Most of them were of Ferrari, their crew and the cars. But as he scrolled to the last photo, he froze. It was of the RB-19, his RB-19, flying down the track. 

Max’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes fixed on the photo. It was a perfectly timed shot. His car sliced through the corners of the track, the blurred backdrop of the stand giving the image a sense of motion and speed. 

You had taken this photo.

Curiosity piqued as he swiped out of the carousel he was looking at, quickly tapping on another shortly after. He paid little attention to the first handful of photos, but at the end, was a photo of him on the podium in Belgium, drenched in sweat and champagne from the celebrations. 

Max moved onto another carousel. This time, photos from Miami in 2022. Sure enough, at the very end, was a photo of him and Charles embracing each other after the on track battle. 

With every post Max had looked at, there was always a photo of him mixed in somehow. Whether he was in the background, or the main subject, every single post involved him. It was as though you had seen the things he hadn’t let himself feel, capturing the rawness of the moments he had tucked away. 

He managed to scroll all the way to the bottom of your profile, to the very first post you had ever made. They were all photos you had taken as a kid, most likely from the red point and shoot camera you had glued to you. And there, at the very end of the photos was a shot of a little boy Max had known too well. The same photo that had been resting in your photo album for years. The same photo of the little boy that now resided in Max’s wallet. 

That little boy needed to get you back. 

=============================

tagged: @mixedstyles

[sansaorgana]

Please can you write a Buck x reader where he's really protective of her while she's pregnant? I think he'd be SO attentive and constantly making sure she's okay

hello! 🤰🏻🤰🏾 thank you for your request 💕 I think he'd be the best daddy and very involved in the pregnancy unlike most men back then 😊

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

You reached above your head to grab a box on the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was no easy task, especially now when you were six months pregnant and you felt much heavier and slower. However, you didn’t want to ask Buck for help because he was busy reading a book downstairs. You didn’t want to bother him with something so silly.

You managed to grab the edge of the box as your tongue stuck out a little out of effort. You pulled the box closer and lost the grasp of it. You could only watch it hit the ground as you quickly took a step aside to avoid being hit with it. A loud thumping sound echoed all over the bedroom as you sighed and watched all the photographs from the box scattered all over the floor.

The door opened rapidly, which startled you.

“Gee, Buck, I had no idea you could be that fast,” you chuckled, trying to crouch down to collect the photographs.

Your husband was a few shades paler as his eyes were widened. He approached you and grabbed you by your shoulders, making you straighten your back. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Something fell down. I was scared it was you,” he admitted as his eyes scanned you up and down as if he didn’t believe your assuring words.

“I’m fine, Buck. It was the box. I tried to reach for it,” you told him.

“You should have called for me,” his tone was serious, nearly scolding. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you. But now, when you’re here… You can help me to pick them up,” you proposed and Buck nodded without a word. Always eager to help and making sure you don’t overwork yourself even if it was a task as easy as this one.

He handed you the empty box and sat you down on the edge of your bed before crouching down and picking up the photographs. He was handing you them one after another and you could watch with a gentle smile all the beautiful memories that were there.

“What did you even need that box for?” He asked.

“I felt a little sentimental,” you told him as your lips curled into a smile at the sight of your wedding picture.

“Next time you feel a little sentimental, you call for me to help you,” Buck muttered to himself. He wasn’t really angry but you could hear his nervousness, still scared for you even though nothing had happened.

“You know, I got used to doing everything on my own,” you carelessly commented as you placed the picture inside the box and reached your hand out for another one. But there was none, so you lowered your eyes to meet your husband’s gaze. He was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes but they were suddenly filled with pain and guilt.

“I’m sorry I left you for such a long time. I never meant to,” he whispered.

“Oh, Gale, baby, I didn’t mean it this way…” You bit on your lower lip and held his hand to pull him closer. He sat up on the bed next to you, clumsily – which was unusual for him. He put his arm around you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t blame you for that, love. I’m glad you came back to me, doesn’t matter how long it took,” you assured him as you caressed the back of his head. “What I’m saying is, I learnt how to be independent. And sometimes…” You hesitated, not sure if you should finish the sentence. “And sometimes I forget you’re back home,” you finally added and took a deep breath in. “I’m upstairs, doing something and a noise from the living room startles me… Only then I remember that my husband is back with me,” you turned your head to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Buck looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the tears welled in his eyes. You cupped his face to caress his scars gently and you gazed back at him, hoping he could see all the love in your own eyes, because words seemed to only make it worse.

He was home for nearly a year now but it took time to accept his presence once again. Just like it had been difficult to accept his absence after his departure.

“Here, can you feel it?” You quickly grabbed his hand and put it on your swollen bump as the baby inside you moved. You smiled at your husband through your tears and saw his face lighten up again. “I can’t wait for the nurse to hand you Baby Cleven. You’re going to be an amazing daddy,” you told him.

“Only time can tell,” Buck sighed.

“No, I just know it, baby,” you assured him. “Just like you’re an amazing husband,” you added. “Now, hand me the rest of the pictures and let’s just put that box away, hm?” You encouraged him and he nodded before leaning in to peck your lips and then moving back to the carpet to give you the rest of the scattered photographs.

Once you were done with it, you went downstairs with Buck and walked into the kitchen since it was time to prepare the supper.

“I’ll do it,” Gale insisted.

“I’m pregnant, not sick,” you chuckled. “I can handle making my husband a sandwich. I like taking care of you,” you shook your head and approached the counter to take the bread out but Buck followed you.

“Let me help at least,” he put his hands on his hips, completely lost at what to do.

“It is not complicated, Major Cleven. You just slice bread and put whatever you want on top,” you laughed. “Well, you can make tea if you really want to do something,” you nodded at him and he smiled.

As eager to help as a child wanting to assist their mother. You found it adorable in a way, or perhaps those were your hormones speaking.

“You know,” Buck started suddenly, “I’m reading that book about babies and I am really worried about some things.”

“You what?” You stopped slicing the bread for a moment as you froze and looked at him in disbelief. A slight blush on his cheeks was making your heart swell.

“I’m reading a book about babies. The one for fathers that was recommended by the doctor,” he explained.

“It was only a recommendation, baby. You’re probably the only man who actually bought it,” you laughed lovingly at him. All your friends who had been lucky to get pregnant before you, had been telling you many stories about their husbands not wanting to participate in anything baby-related. And here he was, your dear husband, Major Gale Cleven… Who had actually bought a book about babies recommended by a doctor. “You’re one in a million, baby. Just reminding me every day why I love you,” you quickly caressed his arm just in case you had embarrassed him accidentally with your reaction. “What were you worrying about?”

“There are just so many things that can go wrong. And it’s scaring me,” Buck admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Things beyond my control. I can try my best and still not be able to prevent them from happening.”

“That’s what life is like, my dear. I thought you’d know it by now,” you hugged him and caressed his back. “But we’re together in this. We can do it. And the things that are beyond our control… Well, they’re beyond our control. We shouldn’t worry about them now. Why focus on the bad things?” You tried to cheer him up.

“What if I lose you?” He asked, his voice breaking.

“You won’t, I promise,” you took a step back to look into his eyes.

“You can’t promise me that,” Buck bit on his lower lip as his jaw clenched; all in effort to stop himself from crying again.

“You couldn’t promise me either. When you were going to Europe, you promised you would be back. But how could you know that? I remembered what one of my friends had told me. Them pilots die like flies, she said. But I refused to listen to her because you…” You put your hand on his chest. “You gave me a promise. And I know my man doesn’t break his word,” you looked up with a gentle smile.

“And…” Buck cleared his throat. “And the little one?” He asked, nearly naively. You chuckled softly and placed his hand on your bump again. The baby moved as if they knew they had been addressed.

“The little one promises to be alright, too, daddy,” you assured your husband. “Now, let’s make these sandwiches, mummy’s hungry,” you bopped him on the nose.

Buck was watching you sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a lotion on your legs, belly and arms. Pregnant or not, he loved to admire you as you were performing your little rituals. When you were done, you laid back on the pillows and sighed.

“Can you imagine that in three months we’ll have Baby Cleven with us?” You asked with a soft smile.

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. “Truth to be told, I can barely believe you’re my wife.”

“Don’t be daft,” you caressed his hair. “Come here, tell us a goodnight story?” You proposed and Buck nodded as he lowered himself to place a kiss on your bump and lay his head next to it. He put his arms around your waist and closed his eyes, savouring the sweet and intimate moment.

“Which story, love?” He asked, gently caressing your bump.

“The one about a princess waiting for her knight to come back from the war?” You asked. It was a story Buck had made up some time ago for your little baby, which was supposed to reflect the story of your child’s parents. But he was still working on the details, changing the plot here and there each time he was telling this story. You liked it not only because it was about the two of you but also because it was giving you a feeling of creating something together for the baby already. Even though Baby Cleven still needed three more months to grow under your heart, you already felt like a real family. There was not a day passing by when you were not grateful for your husband being so involved in the whole process.

“I thought you’d be sick of that story by now,” Buck chuckled.

“No, I will never be sick of it,” you assured him as your fingers brushed through his golden hair. “And I hope Baby Cleven will want to listen to it every day, too.”

“I highly doubt that,” Buck muttered with his face pressed to your bump, kissing it one more time.

“We’ll make up another story then. And then another. And another. I’m sure we’ll come up with dozens of amazing ones. We can make it a family tradition. What do you think?” You asked and he looked up at you. You couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he was at that moment, with his eyes filled with love and admiration, letting himself be vulnerable and soft in your arms.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” he nodded.

“Wait, let me grab a notebook,” you reached out to the bedside table to get a notepad and a pen. “Let’s start writing them down.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Home. The word itself tasted like mothballs and childhood memories, both bitter and sweet on your tongue. 

What others would call home, did not feel like home to you at all, not after your mother had destroyed everything that you were familiar with just when you had turned fifteen.

It was then that she had begun an affair with an actor named Cillian Murphy, whom she had met on the set of a movie he was filming and, just as if she had planned it all, she became pregnant with your stepsister Sadie. 

Your mother was 37 at the time, with Cillian having been five years her senior. 

It was all over the papers at the time and, just as you thought that things could not get any worse, she left your father, who was heartbroken and bewildered, and moved in with this then stranger to you.

You and your twin sister, Cliona, were expected to just follow suit, like little lost puppies and whilst Cillian himself seemed like a nice man, it was not something that you were able to do that easily. You had always been strong willed and gave your mother quite the run for her money with your rebellious nature which, in part, was the reason why she had pushed you to go away to live your father in New York.

New York was where you had finished school and, as soon as you turned eighteen, you made your way on a journey around the world. 

You travelled to New Zealand, Africa and then South Amerika too.  There were times when your money ran out but you always managed to get by, taking on odd jobs here and there, just so that you could survive.

It was during your time in Tanzania, when you met a woman, in her forties, who worked in an orphanage with you, and it was her who introduced you to photography. She told you that the camera was woman's truth and that with it, you had the power to tell stories.

She handed you her canvas camera and you began to snap away, discovering facets of Tanzania, its people and its wildlife in ways that words alone could not articulate.

The experience had left an indelible impression on you and from that day onwards, you knew that photography would be the lens through which you viewed the world and translated your experiences.

Your wanderlust had taken you on a three year journey, one that had seen you capture the beauty of the world through photographs. You had even managed to sell some of them to a hip magazine, which showcased your work alongside a spread of your adventures.

The pay was decent, just enough to keep you going and still let you see the world.

College had been an option, but not one you wanted to seriously consider. You had never been one to follow the rules and conventions that came with higher education, and the thought of being stuck in a classroom for four more years seemed unbearably tedious.

But then, after an amazing three years, your travel journey came to an abrupt end when you got into trouble with the law while passing through the UK, on your way back to New York. 

At London Heathrow,  just after taking a flight from Rome, you were stopped by customs for questioning regarding a package that they found in your luggage. It was a small box that just fit snugly within the zippered pocket in your backpack.

Inside the box there were as an illicit substance and it was this substance that got you arrested. 

You were questioned for hours, leaving you dazed, frightened and confused about how the drugs had even gotten into your bag and, after a series of panicked phone calls to your family, your mother agreed to bail you out.

Days later, in court, you were given a short sentence, including a travel ban for three months and house arrest for one.

"I much rather go to jail than live with my mother for four weeks," you thought to yourself, but the sentence had been handed out and, before you knew it, you were taken to where you had once lived, in the outskirts of London. 

Time seemed to slow down the moment you crossed the threshold of that Victorian house, so familiar in every fine detail that it seemed to shrink around you.

The police officer who accompanied you rang the doorbell on your behalf and, after a few moments, your sister Cliona  , whom you hadn't even spoken to in a year, opened the heavy oak door.

Her dark eyes, much like yours, narrowed at the sight of you, before dissolving into a cold, expressionless mask.

"Hi, Cliona," you greeted her, but it was clear that she wasn't interested in talking.

Her thin lips barely moved as she spoke. "Mum isn't home, but come on in," she simply said to the officer rather than you. 

Cliona's dismissive attitude was nothing new to you, but it still hurt.

You had once been close, like two peas in a pod, but she had changed somewhere along the way. Growing up, you had always been the rebel, the one who pushed boundaries and questioned authority, while she was the obedient one, always trying to please your mother.

Over the years, that gap had only widened, until it seemed like you were living on opposite ends of a vast, unbridgeable chasm.

With a resigned sigh, you stepped into the hallway which is when you saw him, for the first time in 18 months.  It was Cillian, emerging from one of the rooms at the far end of the hallway, with your little half sister Sadie clinging to his side, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of his fingers.

As soon as Sadie saw you, she ran towards you , squealing with excitement, and you couldn't help but smile at the sincerity in her voice as she called out your name.

"Y/N! Y/N!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around your waist. Her laughter echoed through the expansive hallway as you stooped down to pick her up, your heart feeling warmer and softer than it had in months.

You had always kept in touch with her, and even visited her on numerous occasions, putting up with your mother for short periods of times for Sadie's sake, mostly while Cillian had been away filming.

He was a busy man and your interactions with him to date were limited.  Cillian took a step towards you, his warm smile radiating kindness.

"Welcome home, I suppose," he said with a slight chuckle, his rich voice resonating through the room. You couldn't help but blush as he looked directly into your eyes, the corners of his eyes crinkling in genuine delight at seeing you. It was a small but friendly gesture that made you feel a little better about this somewhat unfortunate situation. 

"Thanks," you mumbled, not quite sure what to say in response. You had imagined seeing him again, but there was something utterly different about him now, something that you had not noticed when you saw him last, about eighteen months ago, at your aunt's wedding. 

He had grown a little older, his hair was peppered with more silver strands, giving him an air of maturity, though his eyes seemed the same vibrant shade of blue that they had been before, sparkling with intelligence and a hint of mischief.

While you were spending some time with your little stepsister, the police officer pulled out some paperwork and what looked like an ankle monitor , informing you that this would now be a part of your daily life since it was ordered by the court for the next one month.

You couldn't help but wince at the sight of the device. It felt like an electronic handcuff latched on, but you didn't complain, knowing that it could have been much worse.

"So, I guess it's a house arrest for you now," Cliona said with a roll of her eyes, "good luck with that." 

"It's only for thirty days," the officer  interjected, clearly trying to soften the blow of the situation, "and if you follow the rules and stay out of trouble, you'll be free to go where you want after that, at least within the UK."

You couldn't help but feel a wry smile creeping up on your face, thinking about all the things you would be able to do once this house arrest was lifted.

But for now, you had to follow the rules and make the best of a less than ideal situation.

"Mr Murphy, are you happy to sign for this?"  the officer asked Cillian, handing him the paperwork related to your bail conditions. Cillian looked down at the documents, his brow furrowing slightly as he read over the terms. 

"Sure," he then said, signing his name with a flourish before looking at the monitor with disdain while the officer turned it on, causing it to light up around your ankle.

"What a strange contraption," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he handed it back to the officer who was quick to leave shortly after that.

"I should probably find my room and get unpacked before mum gets home. I know how much she hates mess," you said as soon as the officer drove off and Cillian nodded  in agreement.

"Of course, you can use your old room, it hasn't changed much," he said before picking up your large backpack and guiding you upstairs.

"You know I could have carried this, right?" you  remarked to Cillian as you watched him struggle with your backpack, his face turning slightly red with the strain.

He chuckled good-naturedly. "I know, but it's no trouble, really," he said as he adjusted the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded silently, following him as he took you to your old room, which was still located at the far end of the hallway, as it had been before.

He opened the door for you, stepping aside so you could enter first.

As you stepped over the threshold, your senses were immediately bombarded by a whirlwind of emotions – nostalgia, bitterness, and a strange undercurrent of longing.

You had spent countless nights in that room, sitting by the window, watching the stars through the cold glass, dreaming of the day when you could escape the confines of that house after finding out that your mother wanted a divorce. But then again. you were older now and none of this mattered anymore. Now, it was somewhere to sleep for the next thirty days, and, after that, you knew that you would be evaluating your options.  You left your camera bag by the door but the moment you turned around you caught Cillian's gaze, and you could have sworn that there was something tender hidden deep within the blue recesses of his eyes, like a secret too precious to be shared with the world.

"I'm glad to see that it's still the same," you muttered to yourself, as you placed your other smaller bag onto the bed. 

Cillian chuckled lightly, reminding you that he was still standing there, a few feet behind you.

"I'll let you get settled in now," he said with a warm smile. "Dinner is at seven, if you want to join us. Your mother should be home by six," Cillian added, before walking out of the room, leaving you to your own devices.

"Thank you Cillian," you called after him, letting the moment linger for a second, as a chance to catch your breathe and let your thoughts reel.

The air in the room felt heavy, the scent of old books and dust hung thick against it, like an unwelcome fog. The room was exactly how you remembered it, every piece of furniture, every painting on the walls. It was like going back in time.

"Fuck," you  muttered under your breath, as you pulled back the window curtains, revealing the oak tree that stood tall and strong outside. The view had not changed one bit and this realization was as oddly comforting as it was heartbreaking.

You ran your hand over the windowsill, recalling how you used to sit there for hours on end just watching the world go by in this quaint little town on the outskirts of London. It triggered memories of when you had first noticed your mother changing, and her new job on the set of Peaky Blinders getting the better of her. 

She was one of the production managers, young and enthusiastic, and of course, this is where she met Cillian.

It all went downhill from there, and as they got more and more involved, her behavior changed. 

But you never thought to blame him for the failure of your parents' marriage. Their marriage was doomed for years before and yet, the way she put an end to it, by starting an affair with another man, was what really irked you.

Pushing aside these thoughts of the past, you forced yourself to focus on the present and this presence included staying here, with your part of your broken family, for the next thirty days and you knew that this was going to be tough. 

And tough it was when, over dinner later that day, your mother criticized your life choices.

"You know that none of this would have happened if you had decided to live a normal life," she charged at you between bites of roast chicken and boiled potatoes. "Finishing college, finding a real job, staying out of trouble...," she continued on, and her voice was sharp and condescending.

How many times had you heard her repeat the same things, trying to mold you in her image, trying to give you the role that she had always wanted for herself? You swallowed hard, keeping your composure even as the anger boiled inside you.

"Photography is not a career. It's an art and art doesn't pay the bills," your mother added with disdain. 

"Well, art sure pays your bills, because you did not work for years and still have a roof over your head because your husband clearly earns enough money acting," you replied calmly, taking a sip of your water. You glanced at Cillian, who was sitting quietly, seemingly lost in thought. Sadie, however, was busy coloring with crayons, oblivious to the tension around her.

"That's different," your mother retorted, frowning at you. "Cillian is smart about his work while you, on the other hand, are reckless," she continued on, causing Cillian to sigh heavily. 

 "Marion, enough," he simply said, shaking his head probably taking pity in you and your current situation. "Can't we just enjoy our meal together as a family?" he then asked, and your mother huffed but said nothing more.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, with only Sadie occasionally breaking the awkward atmosphere with her chatter.

After dinner, you offered to help Cillian with the dishes, stacking the rinsed off plates 

by the sink while he loaded them into the dishwasher. As he worked, you couldn't help but notice the way his sleeves were rolled up his arms and his hands moved with ease, his fingers deftly maneuvering the utensils as he placed them in their designated spots in the dishwasher.  He had incredible hands, almost perfect, and whilst this was a small thing, it was also oddly intimate, and you felt the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you watched him.

You shook your head slightly, mentally chastising yourself for reacting in such a way.

Cillian was your stepfather, nothing more, and yet there was no denying the way your heart skipped a beat when his hand brushed against yours as you both reached for the same dish.

He smiled at you as he caught you looking, and your face flushed with heat.

"Thanks for helping me with these," Cillian then said as he closed the dishwasher with a soft click. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel and turned to face you, his eyes finding yours. "And, you know, I'm sorry about the whole house arrest thing. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just let me know."

His words caught you off guard. It had been a long time since anyone had extended their help to you without expecting something in return. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Thank you," you finally managed to say. "But it's fine," you nodded. "Thank you for letting me stay here,"  you added astutely, trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

Cillian gave a slight smile, "Of course," he then said before

turning to walk back towards the living room. "I better go keep your mother company," he said, pausing for a moment before adding, "And, I meant what I just said about the house arrest, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask me."

Left alone in the kitchen, you couldn't help but replay that moment over and over again in your mind. You tried to shake it off as just a kind gesture and not something more, but something about the way he looked at you left you questioning yourself, leaving a strange flutter in your chest.

Shaking of these thoughts, you went to your room in order to find something to read or maybe even draw. But of course, your mother had got rid of most of your art supplies when you moved out, claiming that it was all just a waste of money.

Thus, after you got changed into a singlet and some PJ shorts, you made your way back downstairs, recalling a few large shelves stacked with books in the study, which was locate right next to the living room.

Cillian was still sitting with your mother on a comfortable couch but, much to your surprise, there was a large gap between them. He was reading a book while she watched some reality TV show with her uncritical gaze.

When you entered the room, Cillian looked up from his book and his eyes were immediately drawn to you, taking in your form, even though there was nothing particularly sexy about what you were wearing.

He felt the heat grow in his chest, dimming his thoughts and distracting him from the lines of text that he had been attempting to read which, to him, was a strange sensation and not one he had expected. 

Thinking that you had gone unnoticed, you walked into the study and towards one of the large bookshelves before flicking through the spines of the countless novels stacked up haphazardly along the rows.

But then, suddenly, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.

"Can't find anything interesting?" Cillian asked, making you jump and drop the book you had been holding in your hands and, almost simultaneously, you dropped to your knees to pick it up, your heads bumping into each other. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, your hands flying up to your forehead instinctively as you tried to steady the pounding that had started there.

"No, it's my fault," Cillian apologized, his voice close behind you and he put his hand on your shoulder, causing tingles to run down your spine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said as you turned and looked up at him, your eyes meeting briefly.

"I was trying to find a novel and, god, there are so many to choose from in here," you added, gesturing towards the towering bookshelf that seemed to stretch up towards the high ceiling.

Cillian chuckled, "Well, I do read a lot, but don't worry, I can give you a few recommendations if you want them," he said, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"I would love some recommendations, actually," you said, your face lighting up. "Something about, I don't know, human nature I suppose. I love reading stories about conflicted individuals or history," you said, with a light shrug of your shoulders.

Cillian smiled at your answer, "Did you read the Grass Arena?" he asked, his voice full of curiosity.

You nodded, "Yes, I did. The story was dark but tantalizing," you mentioned, leaving Cillian a little surprised.  "I think it's really good book," you smiled, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

 "A really good book huh?" he echoed, a gentle laugh escaping his lips. "It's one of the best, I think. John Healy's work should be regarded as an invaluable contribution to literature," he declared, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, momentarily getting lost in his bright blue eyes.

"Okay, I agree. It's probably in my top ten," you whispered, before shaking yourself out of your trance-like state, adding, "So, any other recommendations then?"

Cillian nodded, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he guided you towards a different bookshelf.

"I think you might like this one," he said as he pulled out a tattered copy of 'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac, the pages yellowed with age. "I know it's a classic, but it's always a good read and you love travelling, so if you haven't read it yet, you should," he added, his voice full of warmth.

You took the book from him gratefully while inadvertently brushing against his hand. Your palms grew warm and tingly, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes. Cillian's eyes locked with yours and there was a charge between you, a current thrumming beneath the surface that tickled your skin.

"Uhm, thank you ," you mumbled, sliding the book from his grip and stepping back. He nodded, seeming to understand the sudden need for space.

"Sure thing," he said, before turning to head back to the living room. "Goodnight, Y/N," he told you and you nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart before tucking the book under your arm and heading to your bedroom.

Tags:

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[cjlouwho]

if you're still taking prompts:

Buck finds pictures of Tommy in his army days

thank you

@verschlimmbesserung also sent a prompt about DADT, this fic features both prompts! Sorry it took so long to write out! ft. Buck asking loads of questions because he's a curious man.

Buck was busy reorganizing the garage to put the most important boxes toward the front when he stumbled upon an old, tattered box. He and Tommy had moved into their new place nearly two weeks ago, but a wildfire had set them back on being able to unpack and actually get settled.

He didn't recognize the box. Certainly hadn't seen it during their move. The top couldn't even fully close. The flaps were flimsy, torn, and looked like it had been wet and dried a few times over.

He opened the box carefully, then reached in and lifted out a handful of photographs. There were other items inside as well, but the pictures were what grabbed Buck's attention.

They were all Tommy. A young, very handsome Tommy, taken during his time in the army.

Buck had no idea these pictures even existed. Tommy didn't speak much about his time in the military. He wasn't secretive about it, would answer questions when he was asked, but he wasn't one to regularly bring it up in conversation. Buck had always sensed a bit of tension there, so he didn't pry.

The first picture was Tommy in the cockpit, staring straight ahead. He looked hyper-focused on whatever he was doing. The second was him in his bunk, glaring up at whoever took the picture, his hand raised in an attempt to shield himself from the camera. The third was a bit of a shock to see. He had a head injury of some kind, blood exiting a cut on his forehead. He was smiling though, giving the camera a thumbs up.

“Babe, I finished the kitchen boxes, but-” Tommy stopped as he stepped out into the garage and saw Buck staring down at something. “Distracted already? You've been out here like five minutes.”

Buck held up the collection of pictures. “I didn't know you had all these,” he said softly.

Tommy moved closer, taking a few of the photos from Buck's hand. “Oh yeah. I haven't looked at these in, God, like twenty years? Maybe more.”

Buck studied Tommy's face for a moment, checking for any signs that he was upset before asking, “Can we look through them?”

Tommy tore his eyes away from the photographs to look up at Buck. He smiled. “Of course.”

They headed into the living room, which was almost completely bare, but it did have a couch and a coffee table. They laid out the photos and sat down, then Buck began picking them up one by one.

“How old were you here?” he asked. Tommy was staring off into the distance, saluting. He looked like a baby. Didn't even look old enough to shave.

Tommy thought for a moment before responding. “Eighteen, I think? Yeah, that was right after I graduated basic, so eighteen.”

“You look so young.”

“I was actually 5'9 at the time. Had a growth spurt during pilot training.”

Buck picked up another one. Tommy was leaning against a sign that had something written in Arabic, his arms crossed in front of him. “Were you scared?”

“Deep down, sure. Never showed it though.”

“That's why I had to leave SEAL training,” Buck replied. “They wanted machines, and I couldn't be a machine.”

“I don't recommend it.”

Buck spread the pictures out some more, so he could look over a few at a time. “Why don't you ever look through these?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged. “I guess I don't really connect with them anymore. Haven't in a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

Tommy took a deep breath, let it out slowly. He picked up one of the pictures. It was just him, standing in front of a chopper. He had aviator sunglasses on, one leg cocked out in front of the other. There was no smile on his face, just a stern look at the camera. “This guy feels like a different person.” He huffed out a laugh, handed the picture to Buck. “This guy was a sarcastic dick.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “You, sarcastic? No.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I was a lot worse back then. Had the worst chip on my shoulder. I'd get angry about anything and everything. Took things that weren't serious way too seriously. Wasn't serious enough about things I should have been serious about. Cocky as hell.”

Buck picked up another picture, looking over every detail.

“I used to pretend he wasn't me, actually,” Tommy continued, gaining Buck's attention once again.

“How so?”

“When I got discharged, after I got home, I threw everything army related into that box out there and shoved it in the back of my closet. Ironic, right?” he quipped. Buck smiled. “Anyway, when memories would weasel their way into my head, I'd do just about anything to get them out. Even when I worked under Gerrard and was still a cocky dick, I tried to make myself feel better by pretending this guy,” he held up another photo, “didn't exist.”

“When'd you change your mind?”

“When I started going to therapy. Learned to embrace who I was instead of try to run from it. Running doesn't really work anyway when you're trying to get away from yourself.”

Buck looked through a few more of the photos before speaking again. “Why were you discharged?”

Tommy looked genuinely surprised by the question. “I never told you?”

“No.”

“Wow. Here I was thinking we knew each other inside out.”

“Well, technically.” Buck wiggled his eyebrows.

Tommy laughed, shook his head. He moved some of the pictures around until he found a certain one. He showed it to Buck. It was four guys sitting next to one another in the middle of the desert. Three of them, including Tommy, had their middle fingers raised high in the air. The guy at the end held two fingers up in a peace sign.

“See the guy with the peace sign?”

Buck nodded. “Mhm.”

“He's the reason I was discharged. Shockingly, out of everyone in that photo, he was the biggest ass of all.”

“What happened?”

“I joined in 2002, and I was deployed immediately after I finished flight school. It was 2003 by then, but 9/11 was still fresh in everyone's mind, and they needed soldiers. I was originally deployed for six months, but that turned into a year, and then an extra three months was added to that. I had two months left when that guy showed up. His name's Hunter, by the way," he spoke the man's name with distain.

Buck took a closer look at the man. He looked a couple years older than Tommy. He had dark hair, darker eyes, a nice smile. Even though they were sitting, Buck could tell he was shorter than the rest of the guys in the picture. It appeared he tried to make up for his height by working out. He was broader than the others.

“Hunter,” Tommy continued, “seemed to fit right in with the rest of us. He was quieter though, which I kinda liked. So many people in the army were aggressively loud, all the time, so he was a nice change.”

“This story doesn't end happily, does it?”

Tommy looked at him and grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. “He and I worked together a lot. Maybe it was something about the fact he was so quiet that it made me feel safer to, I don't know, to be more open with him. That's my mistake. Over the span of a month we'd gotten to know each other pretty well. Honestly, I thought he was coming on to me sometimes but you didn't say anything about that back then.”

“Don't ask, don't tell.” Buck knew exactly where this was going.

Tommy nodded. “He came to me one evening. Said he had to get something off his chest. Told me he had all these feelings for me and wondered if I felt the same. I-” Tommy paused, took a breath. Buck took the opportunity to reach over and take his hand, squeezing it tight. “I said I did. Said we couldn't do anything about it, but that I liked him more than I probably should. He, um, he recorded my part of the conversation.”

Buck sigh, squeezed his eyes shut. “God.”

“I don't know how he could tell, you know? I'd spent fourteen months with some of these guys and no one had ever suspected a thing. But, the next day I was called in for a meeting with my CO, and he played the tape for me. Told me I was a good soldier, but he couldn't have that type of behavior in the field. He said he'd be kind though and give me a general discharge so it wouldn't look as bad in my records.”

“I- I don't even know what to say, Tommy. That's terrible, honestly. I don't know why that was ever even a thing, and that guy was so stupid and-”

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand now, smiling at him gently. “It was a long time ago, babe. It's okay, I'm okay,” he reassured him. “A lot of people had it much worse than I did. Lots of them got dishonorably discharged, some were beaten up, some were murdered. I was lucky, really.”

Buck felt on the verge of tears now. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn't break as he spoke. “It doesn't make what happened to you right though.”

“I know. Like I said, I wasn't the best person then either. But,” he glanced over the photos, “this guy's me, whether I like it or not.”

Buck scooted closer to Tommy, taking Tommy's arm and wrapping his own around it, “I like it,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to Tommy's bicep. The words garnered a questioning look from Tommy. “Without this guy,” Buck explained, “you wouldn't be who you are now, and I like who you are now. I love who you are now.”

Tommy took his free hand and brought two fingers up to Buck's chin, lifting it until their eyes met. “I really, really love you,” he said before leaning in for a kiss.

Buck hummed into it. No matter how many times they'd done it, something about kissing Tommy always made him emotional. Like another weight was lifted from his body every time their lips met.

“We really need to get back to unpacking,” Tommy murmured as they parted, but Buck made no effort to move.

“We're both off tomorrow too,” Buck replied, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder and closing his eyes. “It can wait.”

Sometimes Tommy wondered how he got here. How he ever got lucky enough to end up with someone like Evan. Someone so loving and forgiving. Someone who loved him and his flaws. Someone who made him feel free. Tommy settled further into the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Buck's head. “Yeah,” he agreed, “it can wait.”

[purpurkatart]

Hello! After having some time to get over my loss for the Pokemon TCG Illustration contest, I decided to write up a small blog entry about the process and include some WIP pictures. Feel free to look below if you want to read my ramblings on the process.

Idea Generarion-

So coming into this contest, I knew I wanted to make a mixed media piece. In terms of theming I chose something that not only reflected a “magical moment” for a Pokemon (in this case meeting a legendary Pokemon), but also a moment when playing the games myself. In fact this piece was inspired by my awe when I first encountered a box legendary in game, as before I thought my teacher was lying to me when he said you can catch the legendary on the box!

This is the concept sketch that started it all! At the time my main concern was getting ideas down and seeing how they looked. Thinking about things like how would the composition would look, how would the colours look. So on and so forth.

I didn’t want to focus too much on the sketch and wanted to start making the physical object, so out of some cheap paper I started making a set up testing out size, scale, composition. I didn’t want to get too attached to the original sketches only to realise I couldn’t make it in real life… I went though a few drafts trying to get things right, slowly adding in aspects such as background objects and higher quality drawings.

After completing the draft I bought the images back into procreate to experiment with colours. This is the point where I made the mistake of thinking I had plenty of colours to choose from, not realising I would be limited by what I could buy from various yarn shops. That or hope I could find the right colour online, but that was always a gamble. If I don’t stop talking about this now I’ll get sidetracked talking about how much I miss yarn shops…

Anyways, I cut out the individual pieces that I would make within the background and used them as a guide for crochet assets. For this part I wanted to use different stitches to create textures such as the ripple stitch, bobble stich and some cable stitches, I feel bad as I never took any work in progress photo so of them. Let’s pretend you’re looking at a photo of a half finished crochet abstract shape.

Finally onto the main event, the Pikachu (and Suicune). The decision to make Pikachu a plush was based on what I would have liked to make for the 2022 illustration contest (if I wasn’t geographically challenged!!) Despite being British I decided it would be fun to make anyways, so I could experiment. I never got around to that but decided it would be fun to try for this edition.

Making the pattern was HARD! As I wanted Pikachu to have a unique pose, I had to work out different methods to plush i’ve made in the past which have been somewhat relaxed in their posing. I ultimately ended up making each part individually, pinning it together and then making adjustments as needed. It didn’t start out great however I ended up with this weird Pikachu shaped thing that did the job. Throughout this process I would regularly photograph it in the background to try and catch any issues early on. For example if the ground needed to be a different shape.

Photographing the final price was interesting. I felt bad for my partner as I essentially turned my dining table into a mini photography studio! I spent several days waiting for different lighting opportunities and experimenting with different light. Marking down different camera angles to ensure I have all of my bases covered. I easily took over 100 photos to get the perfect shot! In the below photo you can see washi tape being used to rest out different positions for the sculptures.

And that leads me to the peice! Even though i’m sad I didn’t make the top 300, I am pleased with the work I did for this piece (and my flygon entry too!). I’m glad I decided to experiment with ts peice and look forward to refining my methods in the near future!

[fandomnsfw]

Bloody Mikaelson’s - Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Pairing: Kol x Reader

Prompt: Kol is jealous about you being affectionate with everyone but him. He decides to tag along when you go shopping to try and get you to like him more. Fluff and confessions ensue!

Warning: Smut (?)

ENJOY!!

****

You sat down next to Niklaus on the sleek leather couch, phone in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. As you lent against him, his arm automatically wrapped around your shoulders. You and Klaus were best friends, the kinda of friends that spoon at night and talk about relationship problems. You sighed contently as you sipped your coffee. Despite his psychotic tendencies Niklaus was the biggest cuddle whore ever.

“What the hell! Why do you cuddle Nik like that and not me?” You heard a childish voice ask, looking up you see Kol stood there his arms opened wide like he was waiting for an explanation.

“Because little brother if she did, you’d try something extremely unrefined.” You heard Elijah’s sophisticated voice chuckle. You smiled when Elijah bent down and place a loving kiss on your forehead. To Elijah and Rebekah you were like a little sister.

“More so than you already do.” Nik added smirking to himself as he took a sip of your coffee that you hadn’t even realised he’d taken. You shot him a glare taking your coffee back before glancing up at Kol who was just glaring at everyone.

“Elijah gets to kiss you! Nik gets to cuddle you! What do I get!?” He growled angrily.

“A punch in the face if you carry on Kol.” You grunted as you went back to reading a post you had seen on Facebook. You heard a deep smooth chuckle from behind you resulting in you throwing you head back, hanging upside down to see Marcel stood directly in behind of you. Meaning your face was about 5 inches away from Marcel’s crotch. You stared at the fabric covering his jeans trying to see the shape.

“Are you finished staring at my crotch Y/N.” Marcel snorted making you tilt you head slightly.

“I’m trying to see if the myths about black guys is true.” You replied bluntly before sitting up and turning to Marcel kneeling up so you were looking into his eyes.

“It’s not always true but in Marcel’s case it is.” You heard a smug voice add, you looked behind Marcel to see Rebekah stood there with a smirk. She threw you a wink and walked over to sit with you.

“Jesus Bekah you got the full package huh? Voice that’s makes your panties wet, ripped as fuck, looks to die for and a big dick.” She laughed at your dreamy voice making you smirk.

“Y/N I adore you however if you could refrain from talking with my sister about her boyfriend’s genitals I would much appreciate it.” Elijah sighed shaking his head lightly as he continued to read.

“Sorry ‘Lijah, Nik.” You added knowing he was probably uncomfortable too. You scrolled through your Instagram liking a few picture along the way before you felt someone trying to shuffle there way between you and Klaus. You knew it was Kol straight away.

“Kol what are you doing?” You huffed making him stop moving as he settled down next to you. Earning himself a glare from Klaus.

“I’m coming to cuddle! I deserve affection too!” He exclaimed pairing his enthusiasm with a cheeky grin.

“Really Kol? I mean really?” You deadpanned making him shrug.

He wrapped his arm around you resulting in an eye roll on your part. You weren’t the closet with Kol, mainly because you never really spoke, not because you didn’t like each other. He irritated you and teased you but you knew it was all in good fun. You didn’t move away from his arm but you didn’t snuggle into him like you did Niklaus and sometimes Elijah. Elijah liked to cuddle on occasions, mainly when he was stressed. You continued scrolling through your Instagram, seeing a racy lingerie photo posted by one of the photographers you follow. You smiled and opened the comment box.

‘This is beautiful Jason.’ You commented on the photo before look at the picture again. It might be a lingerie photo but the way it was taken was art not sexual.

“Ooo I think you should do a photo like that and give it me for my birthday!” You heard Kol say from right next to you. You unwrapped his arm from you and moved to the opposite couch were Elijah was sat.

“Dammit come on Darling I was only joking!” Kol whined like a child who had just had his favorite toy taken from him. You didn’t respond instead picking up a pillow from the couch and throwing it at him. He caught it with ease and grinned very much resembling the Cheshire cat.

“Kol what did you do this time?” You heard a soft voice ask from behind you. You knew by the voice that it was Freya but you decided to drop Kol in it.

“He asked me for lingerie pictures for his birthday.” You pouted angrily as you looked at Freya with slight puppy dog eyes.

“Kol Mikaelson! That is no way to treat a lady!” Elijah and Freya shouted at the same time, I smiled at how much they were a like sometimes and turned to Kol who looked like he was ashamed in what he had just said.

“Sorry Y/N.” He muttered softly making you feel bad for ratting him out.

“It’s okay Kol. Anyway I’m going out today so I’ll see you guys later!” You hopped off the couch before you were stop by Niklaus.

“Where are you going?” Nik asked looking up from what he was doing.

“I’m going shopping. I realised I haven’t got much and I’ve been borrowing Rebekah’s clothes since I got here.” You smiled at him sweetly before leaning down and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Can I come with you?” You heard an unexpected voice ask. You looked over at Kol in surprise but nodded anyway because maybe it would do you some good to bond with Kol. After getting ready you met Kol in the courtyard, double checking you had your credit card and phone. Once you were sure you had them you nodded at Kol who offered you his arm. You smiled sweetly and took his arm gently before you both made your way out onto the bustling streets of New Orleans.

You stopped at the first shop and Kol had yet to let go of your arm which you found extremely endearing. As much as he was cheeky he was still a Mikaelson which meant he had to be at least 5% gentleman. You picked up a few different colored pairs of jeans, a few pairs of plain black leggings, some skirts and shorts before handing them to Kol who let go of your arm to help. You next went to get some plain vest tops, some crop tops and a few different types of blouses. You knew you and Bekah would most likely have a shopping spree soon so you only bought things you needs. Next you grabbed things like socks and tights, you tried to pay for them but Kol refused to let me and gave the woman his card. Kol took them bags from you and held them all in one hand before offering you his arm once again which made you grin threading your arm with his once again.

You laid your head on his bicep as you made your way to the nearest shoe shop. You strolled in with Kol and picked up a few different styles of heels and only 2 pairs of flats. One pair was running shoes and the other were a pair of sandals. You usually wore heels so you didn’t usually buy flats. They were only for when it was too hot and you couldn’t be bothered with the strain heels had on your feet. Once again Kol ignored your pleas to stop her paid for your shoes too. The last stop was a lingerie shop which made you snort slightly, remembering Kol’s teasing earlier. When you got inside you made your way to the simple 2 pieces sets. You looked the racks up and down before turning to Kol who unexpectedly looked quite uncomfortable.

You smiled reassuringly and quickly grabbed a few sets that you liked before making your way to the register, arm still linked with Kol’s. You set the stuff down smiling sweetly at the elderly woman behind the counter. Kol took out his card making me whine.

“Kol I can pay for them you don’t have to.” You sighed guiltily. He let out a chuckle grinning at you softly.

“I want to Darling.” He stated his pet name making you blush slightly.

“How long have you two been Married?” The little old lady asked as she accepted Kol’s card. You blushed further and was about to correct her but Kol nudge you and grinned.

“Not long.” Kol replied sweetly making you look at him with slightly widened eyes. After he retrieved the bags you made your way outside before you nudge him angrily.

“Why did you let her believe we were married?” You asked softly yet the hint of anger still evident in your voice.

“Because it’s not like we’re going to see her much and why spoil an old woman’s day by embarrassing her.” Kol stated with a small chuckle.

“So Mrs. Mikaelson how about we go get some food at the pub and then get all this stuff home?” He teased making you grin at his antics.

“Well if you insist Mr. Mikaelson.” You flirted. You grabbed some of the bags so you could intertwine your arms again which made him smile. After ate and laughed together you finally made it home Kol shouted at the top of his.  

“Y/N and I got married while we were out.” He knew his voice would reach everyone in the house and soon Nik and Rebekah came running out with wide eyes which made you laugh so hard you had to lean into Kol for support.

“You did what!?” Rebekah screeched making me laugh even harder.

“Yeah it was great there was sexy lingerie.” He nodded happily you saw the game he was playing and you decided to play along.

“Heels too die for.” I added nodding my head seriously.

“The dress she bought was absolutely beautiful.” Kol sighed dreamily almost making me crack.

“I contemplated getting my hair done but decided there wasn’t much point.” I shrugged.

“Oh and then we had a meal and a glass of wine!” Koll finished.

“Tell me you’re joking!?” Rebekah screamed her voice reaching the higher pitched stage. You looked at Niklaus who looked at you with wide eyes.

“But…But I had everything planned in my head!” Rebekah yelled making me and Kol look at her confusedly.

“Planned? Planned for what?” You asked cautiously.

“Yours and Kol’s wedding! Duhh!” She huffed angrily.

“What!?” You and Kol screamed in unison!

“We were joking Bekah! An old woman thought we were married and we didn’t correct her.” You replied laughing awkwardly.

“Oh okay that’s good because I planned everything.” Rebekah stated more calmly this type.

“Rebekah, Kol and I aren’t even dating…Why would we get married?” You asked looking up at Kol who just shrugged at you with wide eyes.

“I’m a woman that’s been around for 1000 years and I know that Kol is very clea-”

“Okay!!! That’s enough of that! Why don’t we go put your new stuff away?” Kol screamed interrupting Rebekah, his cheeks slightly flushed.

You shrugged it off and decided to follow Kol with the bags you were holding. Once you got to your room you fell forward onto the bed after dropping the bags. Kol fell onto it next to you, his warm brown eyes staring into your Y/E/C ones. You smiled sweetly at him before he reached over and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his rough hand against your soft flesh. His hand lingered for a while before he pulled back making you almost whine at the loss of contact. You had been alive for over 200 years but Kol’s touch wasn’t like anything you’d felt before. It was gentle and loving, it undoubtedly made your heart flutter. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you like he had a question on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t find the courage to voice it. Which you found ironic since he was usually so sure of himself.

You smiled at him shyly knowing full well you had a blush covering your cheeks. His hand reached back out but this time it gently cupped your cheek. You nuzzled into his hands before looking back into his eyes. You had both somehow rolled onto your sides in a loose fetal position, knees touching slightly. His thumb circled you cheek gently before he spoke up.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He whispered softly, looking into your eyes as he spoke. You didn’t respond just looked at him waiting for him to reach over. He sat up leaning on his elbow as he lent down and brushed his lips over yours. You reached between your bodies your hand gently gripping his t-shirt. You finally felt you lips meets and it was like you heart was beating so fast it would leap out of your chest, your stomach was going wild with the strength of the butterfly’s you were currently experiencing. After a few minutes of tender kisses he pulled away slowly. You sighed happily as his eyes met yours once again. He laid back down on his side.

“Y/N I think I’m in love with you.” His voice was timid and scared you would reject him but his confession only made you heart leap with happiness. When you didn’t say anything he started getting up which made you panic.

“Kol…” He turned round to look at you, sadness in his eyes.

“W-Will you please make love to me?” You asked timidly a blush bracing your face once again.

“I know I’m not in love with you yet but you make my heart beat louder than it ever should, when you kissed me I felt like everything disappeared so if you give me time I think I could fall in love you…If I haven’t already…” You whispered your eyes meeting his as he stared at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen him were but this time it was filled with love and hope.

He rushed over to you as you knelt at the end of the bed. His lips crushed against yours his emotions bursting out through the kiss. His hands cupped both your cheeks, your hands were gripping his t-shirt as he gently laid you down. He hovered over you, his body on top of yours but not uncomfortable. You gripped his biceps as you whimpered into the kiss, your heart was going a mile a minute. He broke the kiss only to trail soft kisses down your neck causing you to shiver. His hands slid to the hem of your shirt tugging it slightly he looked up at you as asking for permission, you nodded biting you lip which made him groaned.

You both sat up so he could pulled you top off tenderly. You tugged his top off and dropped it on the floor before taking your bra off and letting it join the pile of clothes by your bed. He gazed at you appreciatively before laying you back down. His lips were soon kissing slowly down your neck to you breast before taking one of your nipples into his mouth gently swirling his tongue while using his left hand to caress your thighs. You let out a soft moan as he moved to your other nipple showing it the same affection.

His hand finally made its way to the button on your jeans. He undid the button before pulling away for my breast, pulling down your jeans and plum coloured lace that was under your jeans. He let them poll on the floor before kissing your stomach softly, his hands sliding up your thighs. You gasped as his thumb found its way to your clit, his kiss slowly getting closer to your appending arousal. You hummed in appreciation as his thumb made small delicate circles on your clit.

His lips moved to your thigh before kissing up until it reached your sex. His breath brushed over your dripping heat before it finally made contact. It started of slow and seductive but soon turned so dominant and fast. You were a writhing mess of moans and panting as you felt you orgasm approach. His tongue dip inside you a few time before it continues its assault on your clit.

“K-Kol gonna cum..” You panted as you felt your end coming nearer with every move of his tongue.

“Let it go baby…I got you.” He whispered sweetly his finger slowly entering you, curling to reach your most treasure spot. He went back to kitten licks as his fingers did the rest of the work.

“F-Fuck Kol feels so good…” You whined. You were so close to the edge you would practically taste it. And finally you fell.

“M’ cumming Kol…Holy shit!” You moaned loudly you hand clutching the bed sheets as your back arched up, your mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. Koll pulled back and stared at your with a small smile.

“Good you look beautiful when you cum.” He leaned over and kissed your forehead gently. You were still panting at he pulled back undoing his jeans. You reached over as soon as his member was free but he stopped you shaking his head making you frown.

“Not that I don’t want your hand or mouth wrapped round…It’s just I feel need to feel you right now.” That sentence should have sounded dirty but when Kol said it, it sounded like pure love. You nodded and opened your legs further, he slid in between them. You slid your arms round his neck embracing him like he was breakable. He kissed your lips tenderly and he lined himself up with your entrance. You were panting slightly, gripping onto him tightly. He slid himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace but you knew this wasn’t him fucking you. This was him showing you how much you mean to him and that was better than a quick fuck.

“F-Fuck!” He swore his head resting against the point where your shoulder and neck meets. His breathing was heavy and he was gripping the sheets tightly. You knew he was trying to control himself so you cupped his cheeks and brought him up so you were face to face. You stared into his eyes as if tell him ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re doing so well’. He gave you a shaky smile and began slowly thrusting into you. You gripped onto his shoulders as your breathing started getting heavier as well. He changed his angles so he could hit your g-spot which made you arch up and whimper at the amount of love and pleasure you were feeling all at once.

Once you collected yourself slightly. You move you both into a different position so you could be closer. Kol sat on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the bed. You were sat in his lap, your chest and forehead pressed against his as you continued to move your hips. You were thrusting forward instead of up and down so your clit was gently rubbing as his pubic bone with every thrust. You threw you head back letting out a moan, Kol’s lips going straight to you throat placing soft wet kisses on the hollow of your throat. You started to feel yourself building steadily, moaned husky moans and panting getting loud with each thrust.

“Y/N I’m c-close..” Kol panted against your throat making you shutter out a breath.

“Me t-too…Cum with me…” You stuttered before letting out another choked sob. Your pace got slightly fast as your orgasm was finally reaching its peak. You pulled back and look into Kol’s eyes, His left hand cupping you cheek and he stared at you with so many unspoken words. His brows were furrowed and his eyes kept trying to shut as he neared his end. One arm wrapped around his neck and the other placed on his chest.

“I’m c-cumming..” You whispered against his lips your panting loud and deep. He nodded letting you know he was too you gasped as you finally came, your walls clenching around Kol triggering his orgasm.

Once you had ridden out your orgasms, Kol picked you up with shaky legs and laid you on the bed carefully. He crawled under the covers with you and pulled you into his chest, kissing you hair lovingly.

“I love you Y/N and I’ll wait forever if it means you’ll love me back.” Kol’s stated his voice was quiet and spent after earlier activities.

“It won’t take as long as you think…” I muttered into his chest before placing a kiss on his chest bone.

BANG!!

“It’s about bloody time!” Rebekah screamed as she slammed to door open.

“For the love of all that is bloody holy! Rebekah get out!” Kol screamed making you jump slightly which made him look down at you.

“I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to make you jump…” He muttered apologetically.

“It’s okay. Nik! Can you respectfully drag your lovely sister…who I adore…out of my bloody room!” You screamed only making Kol chuckle but also making sure everything was covered before Nik came in. Nik soon came in and pushed Rebekah out the room but turn to look at us.

“I’m happy for you both. Hurt her Kol and I’ll dagger you.” Niklaus threatened before leaving the room and closing the door on his way out.

Bloody Mikaelson’s. 

[eldritch-alicedoll]

Diasomnia Boy gift s/o an evening gown to attend the NRC & RSA ball tgt Headcanon

Following from my dress sketch design if you haven’t seen it here . They are base from Glorious Masquerade & Playful land events. Basically a sequence I imagine while drawing the dresses XD I also want to mention that when it’s finish 🥺 you can draw it on your oc and even tweak a bit detail to fit your Yuu or OC. It’s meant to be share with everyone, not just my Yuu.

⚠️ Bad English……. I have no idea what is grammar . 😂

╭══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╮

Imagine a ball between NRC and RSA happening maybe sometime after chapter 7. All students are invited but you are troubling since you have no dress to wear. And for the love of the great seven. Your beloved head master, Crowley just allowed you to join in your NRC uniform……….. great! So much for your kindness!!

Guess who will be the photographer and a background character on this event…..hahaha………

Well maybe you whine too much in front of the wishing well. Someone comes up with a plan. A plan that would make you believe in a fairytale once again!

╰══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╯

𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰 🐉

You had to be blind to not suspect anything……

Lately Mal is a bit touchy. Not that he isn’t normally but this is different. Sometimes he holds your wrist while mumbles something while going on a night stroll. Sometimes he stares at you and gets lost in his thoughts. He even stands just in front of you and tries to lift you up once.

You are so confused and a bit embarrassed when he asks about your height so you call for support. The Diasomnia’s family counselor aka. Lilia Vanrouge. You went all the way to Diasomnia dorm without telling anyone and sneak in to see Lilia.

But

…….

…..

…………

Is he………….

Is he dancing with a dress just now??

Surprisingly you just witness your dragon boyfriend practicing a dance with a beautiful dress. He hummed ‘that song’ while spinning with the dress. What a beautiful princess gown with dark green silk. It looks so shiny and smooth, something that would delicately touch her skin while being held in that big palm. Imagine how soft that hand craft lace feels when on your chest. He did not spare any piece of jewellery from his procession. He keep bring in dazzling earrings and necklaces to test it with the gown. He would have use the heart of his collection to craft a piece of accessories for you if he doesn’t want to save it for something later in the year. You can see a magical golden thread and needle weaving delicate patterns on the skirt as he continues the dance. Every angle……Every turn………..Malleus is creating a masterpiece. He did it………..for you…….for his princess.

Your face is burning from the love of this dragon fae. Why does he have to put so much effort into it.

Oh no………now you a mess

You open the Pandora box too early and now you have to live with it while pretending not to know a thing until the day. You bit your lip as Mal smoothly tug a strain of hair behind your ears. You can now understand what he mumbles about……rose gold? Sunshine gold? May be one of his grandma’s jewellery set?? (Oh god no…….that’s tooo far for the first gown Mal lol)

Your heart beat so fast until the evening of the event. Malleus play cool by teasing you and being a nice partner who prepare a gift for you.

Boom! You are now in a matching dress. So those Raven feathers on the hip are supposed to match his shoulder then ah………..you are about to take off the veil since it looks like a bride. Before Malleus could turn grumpy…..Sebek yell and lecturing you about how talented Wakasama are! You human dare to question his sense of fashion? Outrageous! Just because he love you doesn’t mean you can ruin his days of afford to perfect this dress

Woops………tongue slip

Well it’s not like you never know anyway. Just pretend to be surprise so Sebek won’t get a lightning strike okay?

Bonus : she doesn’t want to point out that when she accidentally saw Malleus weaving that dress……. his tail wagging. It’s a secret she gonna take to her grave though

Bonus 2 : Lilia does notice that and brag about how adorable Malleus is. How Malleus has grown to fit in the society in front of the other dorm leader………..Oopsie

Bonus 3 : Malleus learn the hard way not to miss the meeting

𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆 🦇

Have you heard of the story of the fairy godmother in Cinderella? Well he won’t just roll out and sing bib bi di bub bi di bo and bang! A nice new dress for you. The old man planned while cuddling you in bed……in sofa…..in the gaming chair(?)

He pretends to be busy with something and hasn't listened to you. Even play dumb and say you look cute in the school uniform. Well it’s not totally a lie since he thinks it’s adorable. Why would he poke on your cheek and nibble your neck while you are in your uniform if it’s not because you are so cute to him.

The truth is, this old bat is as excited as you. He lived through the war time and never got a chance to enjoy a leisure party before. Well it’s just a joint event of 2 schools. It can't compare with how grand the royal ball of the Briar valley held a ball but this is the first time he is going to have his lover join him. He doesn’t have to be alert from enemies. Doesn’t have to command his subordinates to search all the parties involved in this event. Just lay back enjoy the day with you.

He had been trying to recreate that dress in his memories just for you. It was around……..hundred? Two hundred?? Year ago??? He walked past this girl on the street and was stunned by her attire. It’s an elegant dress with black velvet and green emerald. Soft flare neckline covered the black corset. Enough skin to show your radiant but not too much.

Well, He was allowed to give you some hickeys before the day of the ball. It got enough fabric to cover all his naughtiness. Wink*

However he was troubled with the skirt since he only remembered just part of it flowing past him. He argued if it’s short or long skirt. He was going back and forth and even tried to summon multiple dresses to compare them…….Then before the final day. He just uses his sense of style to bring it together. Of cause ! Who do you think he is, if not the cutest boy in NRC ? (Self proclaimed……)

He smiles so proudly with your flushed cheek as he teases you. As you put on a golden belt with a bat and thorn on. This is the perfect dress for you. His baby bat. He should had prepare a ring for this big day but well…….there are plenty time for that

Bonus : He pick a perfume for you today and as you dance with him on the floor. It’s totally Lilia’s scent///

This is very long………..more than I expected

I’ll continue Silver & Sebek in part 2 then 😂 sorry I’m so into it with my oshi! I’ll try pack in other dorm in one post! Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy!!

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 6: Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: sexting?, explicit photographs, making out, angst, crying, heartbreak, high school breakups, breakups, estranged parent/strained parental relationship, depression, high school drama, anxiety, mentions of drinking, drinking, mentions of hookups/one night stands, unrequited love, PTSD mentions/explanations of reactions and behaviours due to PTSD, mentions of addiction/drugs, smoking, swearing, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

Sorry for the wait, but thank you for being patient with me! I love you guys to no end!! As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Her POV

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

It’s not warm when she’s away

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

And she’s always gone too long

Anytime she goes away”

Your phone chiming beside your laptop broke your attention from the endless list of Indeed applications you had half finished. You landed back in your chair, careful not to disturb Ozz, who was sound asleep on your thighs without a care in the world. You tapped the screen, hoping it would be a breath of hope for a job offer by a principal who was also plagued with insomnia, but instead realized it was a breath of hope for a much different reason. Jake’s contact name sat below the clock on your Lock Screen, letting you know that after everything, he still didn’t have the heart to hate you.

For some odd reason, you almost wished he did.

Hurting him was something you never wanted to do, but since meeting him, it was all you could do. Despite breaking his heart all over again, he never gave up hope on being friends, even if the label was bullshit and completely unfulfilling.

Being friends with him was hard, mostly because you didn’t want to be, and because you didn’t know how to be. Loving him was a constant state, and putting that to the side proved to be a daunting task despite you being the one to suggest it. Since the day you met him, you were head over heels, and even in his years of absence, it never went away. Being cordial without crossing lines and being friendly without any hidden agenda was difficult, but because you had promised him, you were committed to trying.

Since your talk with Mel the day prior, you felt better about your feelings, but still not certain. There was so much up in the air, still so many things that would not resolve without time, but you had taken it upon yourself to respond to his messages and keep up the friendly communication. It hurt, but it felt better than whatever the hell the previous few days had been. You were sober, still sad, but trying your best to make life as normal as possible despite the burgeoning sorrow that was begging to take over again. It was easier when you were burying yourself in the task of finding work, but that seemed to be the only distraction.

When it came down to it, your current state could only be blamed on your own stubbornness and stupidity.

You clicked on the notification, your Face ID immediately bringing you to the text chain. You scanned the message, seeing no words or greetings, but instead a link to Spotify. With furrowed brows, you clicked on it and waited for the app to load. Once it did, you wished you had ignored it completely. The familiar album cover sent a wave of tears rushing down your cheeks, without warning and without any hesitation. It seemed like a common theme as of recent.

Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers

For a little extra salt in the wound, you pressed play and let the slow melody fill your ears. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the brief moment of pain be felt instead of pushing it down and letting it fester.

Another text popped up on the screen, force of habit making you click on it as soon as it appeared. When it brought you back to Jake’s thread, you noticed an image attatched below the song. You recognized the sight immediately, briefly considering blocking him and changing your name so you never had to feel this way again.

Still, you knew that running away would not rid you of the curse of loving a Kiszka. You tried it once before, and it left you in the exact same situation you ran away from.

For someone who said he would try his best to be just friends, him sending you pictures of him in his childhood bedroom and a link to a song that was an explicit telling of his heart was not very friend-like.

At the same time, you crying over said instances was also very far from friendly.

After only a few troublesome days, it seemed apparent that friends was never in the cards for the two of you.

You looked back at the bed, finding Mel sleeping soundly under the covers, unbeknownst to your troubles just a few feet away. If she were awake, you wondered what she would say. Would she push you to respond, to tell him that the world seemed bleak and lonely without him, too? Without even debating it, you already knew the answer.

Of course she would. It was an incredibly stupid thing to ask.

In fact, she would probably tell you exactly that, or she would be a little more coarse and unapologetic about it. So you drafted up a response with the ghost of Mel’s advice in the back of your mind. If he could be open and honest, so could you. Your fingers trembled as you typed your answer, stopping every now and then to gather your thoughts before continuing on. Eventually, you let out a breath of relief, hitting send on the text and watching as the blue line slid across the screen until it delivered.

You

Guess I’m not the only one having a hard time with friends.

Almost instantly, three dots popped up encased in a grey bubble, signifying he was already typing a response for you.

Jake ❤️

We’re in this together, just like always.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, sickened by the idea of you both suffering over the same thing when the solution was right in front of you. Together always, no matter if it was mutual happiness or to share sorrows.

Jake ❤️

What are you doing up so late, sunshine?

You

Damn job applications. Still no calls :(

Jake ❤️

They’re crazy for not calling you back. I know you’d be the best teacher at ANY school.

You

You think too highly of me 😅

Jake ❤️

Think you don’t give yourself enough credit.

You

What are YOU doing up so late? Sending such risqué texts at that.

Jake ❤️

At mom and dad’s house… had too much wine. Just waiting for Sam to shut up so he can drive us back to the hotel.

You

So I have a drunkard on my hands.

Jake ❤️

I wish I was in your hands, but we’re friends now so I guess that’s off the table.

Your cheeks turned red, your stomach twisting with knots at the simple thought of touching him again. Of course you’d rather be there, drinking wine and retelling childhood stories while sat on the couch, maybe even with his hand on your knee as you leaned into his side. You wanted it all, but only ever with him, and it was torture to pretend you didn’t. He made it so hard to keep your morals in check, and the longer you talked to him the less you seemed to care about the reasons why you left. Maybe you ignoring him had little to do with your own sadness and everything to do with his ability to change your mind about things.

You wanted him—you needed him. To feel his arms around you, to hear the sweet melodies of his voice, to feel the love radiating from him straight into you. You were sick of the self-inflicted punishments, tired of holding back. You missed him, and you couldn’t bear to feel it any longer, especially when he was so close to you.

Jake ❤️

Sorry, sunshine. I’m trying my best.

You

Don’t apologize.

With that, you gave in to the temptation and closed your laptop. You carefully placed Ozz on the bed, so gently that he didn’t even stir from his sleep. As you clicked on his contact and dialled his number, you snuck out of your bedroom and let the door fall shut behind you. The dial tone didn’t even have a chance to ring once before he picked up, his raspy tone filling your ears and easing the ache in your chest that had been bothering you for days.

“Do friends call each other at one in the morning?” He teased, the slight slur in his tone telling you he certainly did indulge in too much wine.

“You want me to hang up?” You shot back, bluffing of course, but warning him nonetheless.

“Not at all.” He responded without missing a beat. “Job hunt too boring? Needed some excitement?”

“Something like that.” You hummed, pacing the hallway outside of your bedroom. You had no idea why you were so nervous, especially considering you’d been in this position a million times before. For some reason, it felt different now, more real and much more terrifying. You let out a sigh, deciding to rip off the bandaid and get straight to the point. “You still have that pack of Newports?”

“Just smoked one.” He confirmed. “Why?”

“I have a bottle of strawberry wine. The cheap stuff, like I used to drink when we were kids.” You swallowed hard, wondering if he understood your intent. He was silent, the static crackling over the line the only inkling he was still there. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and you could only imagine his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he tried to swallow back his nerves.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Let Sam talk, Jake.” You confirmed. “I’ll take you home later.”

“Are you sure, sunshine? This isn’t very friend-like… ‘least it wasn’t way back then.”

“Shove it with the friend thing. It was a really stupid thing to say. I need you Jake, no matter what fucking label we put on it.” You rushed out, knowing you were only breaking your own rules because you were overtired and sad. Still, the only place you wanted to be was in his arms, and nothing would take that feeling away. “Are you in or out?”

“In. Always.” He assured you.

“I’ll meet you halfway.” You couldn’t measure the amount of relief you felt.

“See you in ten.” He promised. Without another word, he ended the call, leaving you staring at your lock screen with uncertainty bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

Instead of dwelling, you snuck back in your room to grab a hoodie. You slipped it over your head as you walked downstairs, grabbing your keys from the kitchen table as you slipped on your shoes. You locked the door behind you, carefully trodding down the porch steps and into the night. The air was cool, the grasshoppers and crickets working together to make an ambient atmosphere in your front yard. You cut through the lawn, feeling the dew of the grass stick to your ankles as you checked for headlights on the road.

You started at a slow pace down your street, your heart racing as the moonlight illuminated the way. Street lamps were few and far between, casting yellow hues over the horizon as you approached your first turn. Keeping on the sidewalk, you marched down the side street and noticed that nobody was waiting for you at the end. Your stomach sank, wondering if maybe he had enough of your ridiculous mood swings and decided not to come at all. You tried not to get in your own head too much as you neared the four way intersection, hearing nothing but distant cars on the highway.

You tapped your foot against the pavement as you stood in the middle, never letting your eyes leave the road that led to his house. After a few more minutes of nothing, your disappointment was growing stronger by the second. You tried to tell yourself that Jake would never leave you hanging, not with your hopes up and your heart splayed on your sleeve. At the same time, you knew if he did, you would be nothing other than deserving of it. You took his love and his kindness for granted, hurting him more than you cared to admit even if it was for his own sake, and if he thought it was justifiable to leave you looking like an idiot, you would have to agree.

Then, your whirlwind of thoughts came to a halt. A shadow appeared under a streetlight, giving you a glimpse of hope back. Seconds later, you could see the outline of a body in the near distance. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his long hair hanging down over his shoulders, and the cutoff t-shirt he was wearing hung loosely from his torso.

It was Jake.

Your Jake—the very same as he was six years ago when he used to meet you in that exact spot.

Knowing that made you feel at ease, calm despite the constant storm of emotions trying to ruin your life. It felt right, walking to meet him under the moonlight, seeing his silhouette under the street lamps. Things were so different, but eerily similar to those memories you cherished most. Without hesitation, you started to walk towards him, your feet carrying you forward despite your brain telling you not to. Your pace sped the closer you got to him, and before you knew it, you were running towards him in hopes he would greet you with the same enthusiasm.

“Sunshine!” Jake laughed, tumbling backwards as you collided into him and engulfed him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you as your head settled on his chest, and as if it were a natural response, he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

You wondered, after so much heartbreak, how could things still feel so perfect?

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, carefully placing you back on the ground and pulling away. His warm eyes scanned your face, noticing the shine of tears still lingering and your red nose. “Hey,” his lips dipped into a frown, only making the ache in your chest worsen.

“I’m just… I’m sorry. About everything. The last four days have been awful, and I just… I didn’t want to leave it like that, I guess. You deserve more.”

“Nothing a little rooftop conversation can’t fix, right? Always seemed to work before.” At that, a small smile turned your lips. You sniffled back any remaining sadness, giving him a curt nod to show him you agreed wholeheartedly.

The walk back to your house was relatively peaceful, and he had tested his luck and intertwined his fingers with your own for the short distance. You didn’t have the heart or the desire to turn him away, so you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment while you still could. Inside, you grabbed a few blankets and the last bottle of wine stored in the refrigerator. Then, like it was only yesterday, the two of you trekked into the spare bedroom and you watched as he popped out the screen on the window. Carefully, he climbed out first, grabbing the items from your hands so you could do the same.

When your feet were firmly planted on the rickety tin of the roof, he laid the blanket down and motioned for you to take a seat. Once you did, he sat behind you, his legs settling on either side of your own as he wrapped his arms around your torso. You leaned into the touch, resting your back against his chest as you looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky. For a single moment, you were seventeen again—the smell of Newports stuck to his clothes and the warmth of his body made you believe that no worldly trouble could touch you. You were seventeen, happy and carefree, long before heartbreak ever touched you and the end was even in sight.

But, no good thing could last forever, and the two of you were far too good to last for more than a small glimpse of time.

“Talk to me, sunshine.” He broke the silence, his voice quiet as he watched the same stars you’d focused your attention on.

“Been a long time since we came up here together.” You whispered, tracing small hearts into the back of his hand with your index finger. “I never came up here again after we… I couldn’t. Didn’t feel right.” He didn’t respond to your confessions. Instead, you felt his chin rest on the very top of your head, the pressure light and the position only so he could try and be closer to you. “Why’d you send me that song?”

“You know why.” You did, but you wanted to hear from him. “It’s you, Sunshine. It always has been, and it always will be. Every time I step foot in that house, you’re the only thing I can see. In my bed, laying on the couch in the basement, on a blanket in the backyard, bothering Sam in the doorway of his bedroom. It’s you. Even if you call us friends, that will never change.”

You reached for the bottle of wine, cracking the cap and taking a small sip. You decided it would be needed for such a heavy conversation, and you could keep him here for long enough to sober up and drive him home. As the liquid travelled down your throat, you were plagued with the thought that the sweetness couldn’t even compare to the kind in which came from his words. Even so, you continued to swallow it down in hopes it would wash away the taste of those from your tongue.

“Are you mad?” You asked, looking down at the point your hand met with his. His silence struck you harder than you thought it would, but you couldn’t blame him if he was.

“Not mad.” He replied, taking his time to collect his thoughts on the matter. “Frustrated, but not mad. Think I was at first, but Josh and Sam put things into perspective for me.”

“Mel helped me with that, too.” You hummed, taking another swig from the chilled bottle.

“Why do you think this is the only way?” He blurted the question out, the liquor getting the best of him and furthering his curiosity. He needed answers, but he was unsure if the ones you provided would help. Before you responded, you offered the bottle to him in hopes it would make it easier for him too.

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the ambient noise of the night. “Feel like that’s all I ever do, anyway.” He wanted to argue, to tell you how wrong it was and list every good thing you had ever brought to his life, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on one simple statement he prayed would get his point across clearly.

“If all you did was hurt me, do you really think I’d still be here?” You swallowed the fact with struggle, feeling the truth get stuck in your throat as it began to choke you. Your eyes watered and your lungs burned because for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, and you hated yourself for pushing a narrative on him and forcing him to take it. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Silence became the two of you again, neither one of you willing to rock the boat any further as you digested the answers to your questions. You listened to the dull thud of his heart against his chest, feeling it on your skull if you focused for long enough. You wondered, if he was a separate being and the two of you were your own entities, why did it feel like your heart existed alongside his own, beating in the same rhythm to make the same song, against the flesh and bone that made him? Your own chest felt empty, hollow and barren. It ached with a fervor and the nothingness seemed to taunt you when he wasn’t near. Now, in his arms, you could feel the beat of your own heart after days of missing it.

“Talk to me.” He repeated his earlier statement, his free hand reaching up to brush the locks of hair from your face. His fingers ran through the knotted strands, eventually reaching the end where he twisted them around his index finger. The small action was so akin to his love, the gentleness and the care that went into it telling of all he felt for you. “You called first. You asked me to come over. Something’s bothering you.”

He was right, but it was not some trivial thing or instance that plagued your thoughts. It was everything; the entire world as a whole, your life being so different than the one you envisioned. How could you explain what your troubles were when trouble was the only thing you knew?

Well, that, and love by his hand.

When considering the latter, the world didn’t seem so bleak after all.

“I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going.” You stated, blunt enough to make you regret it. You wished talking about your feelings was easier, that communication could come naturally rather than all or nothing.

“So you’ve said.” He let out a low chuckle, the warm skin of his hand drifting across your cool cheek reminding you that you were alive and awake, rather than stuck in a twisted dream.

“I dunno… guess that I always had this plan. Since I was little, even before my dad left, I knew where this life would take me and how I wanted it to go, how I would handle it. The older I get, the more I realize I never had it figured out, and it’s really bothering me. Way more than I thought it would.”

“Oh, sunshine.” Jake hummed, soft and sweet as the pad of his thumb drifted across your skin. You could hear the smile in his voice, but you weren’t sure why. Either way, it felt good to know it was there, even if your misery clouded every other aspect of your life. “None of us ever had it figured out, even if we thought so. Nobody does, even now. That’s the beauty of life, is it not?”

“God, you sound like Josh.” You scoffed, the corners of your lips turned upwards into a smirk. “When did that happen?”

“Yeah, maybe that was a bit much.” He agreed, his shoulders shaking with a laugh. “Spend a lot of time with him on the road. Kinda hard not to pick up some habits from him.”

“Where’s Jake? I want his answer, not the philosophical shit you pulled from one of Josh’s guides to enlightenment.” You teased, craning your head backwards to catch a glimpse of his face. As you did, you almost wished you didn’t, finding it incredibly hard to tear your eyes away from him.

“Jake’s right here, sunshine. If I answer, will you listen?” He raised an eyebrow, teasing you just the same. He had a point; you were quite pigheaded when it came to anyone else’s opinion, even if you tried your best not to be.

“I will, I promise.” You withheld the fact that all you wanted to do was listen to him, that if he stayed, you would promise to listen until your very last dying breath.

“Okay,” he let out a long breath. “I’m drunk, so bear with me.” At that, a giggle fell from your lips, bits of joy stuck in your teeth despite worrying you’d never feel it again. “Out of everyone I know, you’ve always had it together. You knew where you were going, what you were doing, and most of the time, you knew what everyone else was doing, too. Or what they should have been doing, at least.” A smile struck your lips, full but still sad because he was right. Planning and preparing were the two very things that kept you going, even if it made you overlook emotions and fun. “You still have it together, Y/N, even if things aren’t going exactly the way you wanted.”

“I just… I feel like after all this work, all of this time, I should be somewhere, be something.” You let out an exasperated sigh, your head falling back against his chest with a thud. “Instead, I’m almost twenty-five, still living in my moms house with no job and relying on my high school boyfriend to help pick me up off the ground.”

“Hey,” his interruption was curt, gruff almost as he voiced his distaste for your statement. “You’re not relying on me. I’m not forced to be here because you couldn’t do it alone. I want to be here. I offered to be here. I jumped at the chance, actually.” He said, his lips hovering over your ear as he leaned in further. He smelled like cheap cigarettes and red wine, the two fighting a losing battle against his expensive cologne. It was hard to resist the temptation, to hold yourself back from kissing him and confusing the two of you even further. “Besides, I’m not picking you up off the ground, ‘cause you were never down there in the first place.” The vibrations of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and the warmth of his breath made your stomach flutter. “Also, I’d like to think I’m a little more than just your old high school boyfriend.”

“You are.” The words slipped out with little thought, forcing you to explain your thoughts further. “You’re everything, bug. It’s always been you, too.” You took another sip of wine, swallowing back the heaviness of your statement. Even if the time was wrong, even if you weren’t meant to be, you would always be his. In this lifetime, his presence would always be the only thing you ever craved.

“You’ll get a job, sunshine. I bet you ten bucks you’ll get a call tomorrow.” At that, you let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. It had been months since you finished school, and months since you’d been waiting for an offer. For him to think the tables would suddenly turn was naïve, even if it was comforting. You knew that if everyone else in the world stopped believing in you, even if they thought your amount to nothing, he would continue to cheer you on.

Perhaps he was betting on a job offer for his own personal agenda. If you had certainty again, if you knew where you were going, you wouldn’t be so afraid to let him in.

“You’re funny, Jake.” You dismissed him, saddened as you continued to watch the sky.

“I’ll be expecting ten dollars, then.” He squeezed you a little tighter, the action pulling you further into him. You wanted to tell him that you never wanted him to let go, but you bit your tongue as you realized how selfish it was. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You assured him.

“Is that why you left? The first time, and this time?” You froze, his question blunt and an answer just out of reach. You wondered what tipped him off, what forced him to ask such a question? You weren’t sure what exactly he was referring to, so before responding you thought it best to ask.

“What… what do you mean?”

“You’re a planner. You always knew how your life would go… and you never expected me. I turned it upside down the first time, and then you left and got yourself back on track… you learned how to be alone and you figured your shit out, just for me to show up and throw things out of whack again.” He seemed to be struggling to explain, but you were following him. “You like control, and you like certainty, and when you love someone this much, it kinda feels like everything is out of control. You don’t know if I’ll leave, or if we’ll run into trouble that causes more bad than good, and you don’t know what I’m thinking or where I’m going to end up. You being with me… kinda makes you accept a whole shitload of uncertainty, and you love certainty.”

“Jake, even if I went back in time and knew that I would end up with you, that we would end up like this, it still never would have prepared me for it.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around the complexity and intensity of the emotions you felt for him. “I don’t think any kind of logic or sense could explain this. The way I feel for you… it’s so overwhelming, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt. When people used to talk about love, I never ever thought it would feel like this.” You swore you could feel his heart beat faster as you continued to speak, but you did your best to ignore it so you could keep your composure. “It scares me a little, and maybe it’s part of the reason why I left, but it’s so much more than that. The uncertainty was worth it, because I never felt like you would do anything to make me regret it. Even now, you still haven’t.”

“So what is it? Explain it to me, because we were all over the place that morning, and I just need to understand it.”

“I left because I love you.” You replied, toying with a loose thread on the blanket below you. “Because all I’ve ever wanted was to see you succeed, to live a life you always dreamed about, and I’m terrified of standing in the way of it. I saw the notifications on your phone, and it scared the shit out of me. I thought you were going to put your whole life on pause to figure us out, and I couldn’t handle it. You worked so hard for this, just like you did way back then, and I can’t ruin it for you. I’m so fucked up right now… drinking wine on the roof because I’m twenty-five and directionless. I can’t force you to plan your life around me when it’s so crazy right now. I don’t know where I’ll end up, and I guess I’m afraid if we do try again, you’ll regret it. I can handle a lot, but I couldn’t handle knowing you resented me.”

“That would never happen.” He said, his heart aching at the simple thought of you believing he could house such feelings towards you.

“But you don’t know that.” You argued. “When we were eighteen, we ended this on good terms to avoid that feeling. When you came back and I saw you, I was so excited and happy that I forgot about everything else… I ignored any consequences. I’m no better off now than I was then, and to tie you down when you’ve spent the last few years with so much freedom… I can’t, Jake.”

As you said it aloud, Mel’s voice rang louder in the back of your head, telling you that you couldn’t make that decision for him. At the same time, what else could you do? Could you risk the very thing you were determined to avoid? Could you chance all of his love for you being replaced with a bitter, cold emotion that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

“If you’re worried about me, you don’t have to be.” He hummed, fighting every urge to argue. It was easy for him to respond with counterattacks and emotion, because the whole situation frustrated him beyond belief, but you loved logic, and he was trying his hardest to speak from his brain rather than his heart. “My career is important to me. It’s been a long and difficult journey to get where we are, and I’m thankful for it every day. I wouldn’t just give it up, Y/N. My brothers, my fans… I have people counting on me. At the same time, work can only get you so far. When I’m old and tired, the stage isn’t going to be sitting beside me on a porch somewhere. My guitar will be in the living room, collecting dust because my hands hurt too much to play it. There’s a point where all of that is going to be a memory—a damn good one, but a memory.”

You weren’t sure why it hurt so bad, but the thought of him not playing his guitar had struck an agonizing chord in your heart.

“Before I met you, I never thought I could love something else the same way I love music. Then, you showed up, and everything changed. Were not kids, and I’d like to think we’re a lot less stupid. We can have two things at once. I can handle that, even if I didn’t think I could back then. I want you beside me on that porch, bitchin’ at me ‘cause all the guitar does is collect dust. You wouldn’t stand in the way of anything, ‘cause since that day I promised you I’d love you forever, I knew what I was signing myself up for. I will love you forever, and that dream always included you, sunshine. It was never just me up on that stage; it was also you, cheering me on and giving me the encouragement to keep going.”

Your cheeks were damp again, the tears free flowing and your misery loud enough for the whole world to hear. How was he so perfect, in everything he did and every word he said? How was it fair that two people could love each other so much but have so many things stand in the way?

“Loving you is the only thing I know how to do.” You confessed, raising your palms to your cheeks to swipe away the tears. “I promised too, and I meant it. I swear I could never love anyone else like this.”

“No need to cry, beautiful.” He hugged you tighter, encasing you in a blanket of protection that not even the strongest force could break through. “I let you leave the first time because I was scared. I’m letting you go this time because I want you to be ready, too. I’ve been waiting six years, Y/N. If it takes six more for you to get there, I’ll still be waiting. You are worth every bad thing and every day spent alone. Nobody else could ever be what you are to me.”

“God, shut up.” You laughed despite the sadness, a smile contradicting your tears. “Stop making me fall for you all over again.”

“Too bad,” he laughed, watching as you twisted yourself around so you could look at him. “I promised to love you, so get used to it sunshine.” The warmth of his eyes made you feel like everything was going to be okay, even if everything else in the universe was trying to convince you otherwise. When he was out of sight, it felt like the world was ending, but as soon as your eyes landed on him, you felt stupid for ever worrying at all. “Can you promise me something?”

“You sure you want me to? Our promises seem more like curses.” You tried to joke despite the truth being horribly painful.

“Never a curse, sweetheart, even if it does hurt sometimes.” He assured you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Promise me that when you’re ready, you’ll let me know.” Your lips turned down into a frown, saddened at the idea of him waiting patiently for you to get your shit together.

“The second I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“And if there’s ever a time you know for sure I’m not what you want, I need to know that, too.” You almost laughed at the incredulous statement, knowing that in this lifetime, not wanting Jake wasn’t a possibility. But, for his sanity, you gave a small nod, assuring him that you would tell him if it did happen to come true. “Thank you for calling me tonight.”

“Thank you for coming. I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but you were the only person I wanted to talk to.” You spun around, now facing him and carefully laying your legs over his thighs. He smiled down at you, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you closer to him.

“You deserve everything, sunshine.” He whispered, his eyes twinkling under the pale moonlight. You swore, for a single second, you could see the entire universe in the near black of his irises. “Anytime you want me here, I’ll be here. I’ve always been a call away, even if it didn’t seem like it.”

“You were right.” Your stomach was twisted in a knot, the faint hint of alcohol on his breath making your head spin. Your face being so close to his was making it hard to think of anything else, his presence intoxicating as an invisible force pushed you further into his arms.

“About?” He raised his eyebrow, seemingly caught in the same flurry of emotions as you. The tip of his nose was nearly brushing yours, his eyelids heavy as his fingers tightened their hold on you.

“This isn’t very friend-like.” You whispered, inching your lips closer to his.

“I did tell you that it would be hard to be friends.” He reminded you, one of his hands slowly removing itself from your hip to cup your face.

“Yeah, because I don’t want to be friends.” You nearly scoffed the words, disgusted at the thought of it. If it were easier, if the world wasn’t so complicated and cruel, you never would have forced the title on the two of you.

“Me neither.” He agreed. “So let’s not be friends.”

“What else could we be?” You giggled, finding his statement silly considering the predicament you found yourselves in.

“Two people in love, that can’t fully be together yet.” He replied. “Feel like it fits us a little better.”

“That’s a complicated title.” You teased, his lips so close to yours you could almost taste him on your tongue.

“It’s nobody’s business but ours.” He smiled, the softness of his features in the dim light of the night reminding you of a younger version of him. The two of you, in perfect unison, happiness on your faces but lingering sadness in your hearts reminded you of a simpler time, one with a much less complex relationship, when you could be together with no worries.

“Okay, sounds good to me.” In that moment, you would have agreed to anything he said, solely because you couldn’t imagine causing him any more trouble.

“Is there rules for this?” He asked, clearly running on the same train of thought as you were.

“Not tonight, ‘cause we’re just trying to figure it out, right?”

“Right.” He nodded gently, searching your face for any sigh of discomfort. When he could find none, he finally leaned forward and closed the gap between you.

The taste of him was sweet on your lips, fulfilling and so unlike anything else. The simple action left your head spinning and your chest aching, and you wondered if something felt this good, why it could not last forever. His hand held you to him, unwilling to let you slip away before he could fully enjoy the moment. It didn’t take long for him to test his luck, his tongue grazing your lower lip as he silently begged you for more. He barely had to ask—you were bending to his will and parting your lips in an instant, your hands tangling in his hair as your chest pressed against his own.

There were no fireworks, no butterflies or anything like what the movies would describe. Instead, it felt right, like the two of you were meant to be together on the rooftop of your childhood home one last time. When he pulled away, you were breathless, more stars dancing in your eyes than in the sky behind you, and the stupid smile on your lips made you regret every decision you had made in the previous four days.

“Whatever you do sunshine, whatever we are… please don’t disappear again. I sent you that song earlier because it’s true. It’s dark when you’re gone—the sun doesn’t shine and the birds don’t sing, and I can’t handle not having you in my life. As friends, as lovers, as enemies, I don’t care, as long as we’re something.” The pleading tone nearly turned you to dust, the remorse and regret for hurting him so badly seeming to eat you alive as you sat in his arms.

“I won’t disappear.” You promised, closing your eyes so he could not see the tears welling up once again. “I’m perfectly fine with being in love, but not fully together… yet.”

“Good, because I like that a hell of a lot more than I like friends.” He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes flickering to the sky to lessen the intensity of your staring contest. Then, out of nowhere, his eyes lit up and a smile broke out on his face. “Look, sunshine!” He exclaimed, causing you to jump. You whipped your head around, your eyes following the direction of his in just enough time to catch the tail end of—“a shooting star.”

“Make a wish, quick!” You matched his energy, remembering how many stars you wished upon when you were young and in love. For a long time, you cursed the stars and universe because none of the hopeful desires ever seemed to come true—especially the ones you wished upon without him there beside you. Now, sitting on the rooftop with him, held so tightly in his arms, your faith had suddenly been restored. You had gotten everything you ever wished for in the single moment you were sharing with him now.

The both of you closed your eyes, the wispy bright tail of the shooting star still fresh in your minds as you settled on the things you wanted most from this life.

He wished for you.

You wished for him.

Funny how after so many years, your greatest desires hadn’t changed one bit.

☾𖤓

You threw your keys down on the kitchen table, exhausted and sad as you returned home alone. For a few hours, the two of you sat on the roof talking about everything and anything that came to mind, and only when the peek of the sun in the sky began to show did you decide it was best you take him home. You held back your tears the entire drive, not daring to ask the dreaded question of when he would be flying back to Nashville. Instead, you passed the time with laughter and a few more stolen kisses, only making the departure harder when the automatic hotel doors closed behind him.

It was hard watching him walk away when you wanted to do nothing more than walk beside him.

A slow and tear filled drive home left you questioning all of your life choices, and the sun shining bright in the sky did nothing other than taunt you as you made your unusual walk of shame to your own front door. You felt like you had no tears left to cry, but somehow a few still slipped down your cheeks as you collapsed on the couch, too tired to make the trek upstairs. The chill of the night was still settled deep in your bones, and as you threw a tiny blanket over your legs and laid your head on a throw pillow, you could only remember how warm and safe it was to be in his arms.

You clicked on the television for some background noise, playing whatever channel your mother had left on before she went to bed as you begged for sleep to take you. You closed your eyes, the ghost of a migraine throbbing behind your forehead as you noticed the smell of Jake’s cologne stuck to the fibres of your sweater, which was comforting just as much as it was sickening. You reached above your head, your fingertips grazing the material of the curtains as you tried to slide it across the window to block the rays of sun. Eventually, you managed to pull it halfway across, which was good enough for you.

Just as you felt yourself begin to drift off, you heard the familiar chime of your text tone, forcing your eyes open once again. With a huff of annoyance, you reached into your pocket and pulled it out, just in time to feel the vibration of the second text that followed. You held the screen just a few inches from your face, squinting so you could focus your eyes on the words.

Jake ❤️

Since we’re no longer friends, I…

The preview only read so far, frustrating you further as you struggled to activate your Face ID in the dimly lit room. Eventually, you gave up and put in your passcode, wondering what was so important that he had to text you after your long night spent together. Even if it was important, you were sure it could have waited until the morning.

Or, afternoon, more likely.

Jake ❤️

Since we’re no longer friends, I thought it would be acceptable to tell you how fucking bad I wish you were here to keep me company.

Your stomach twisted with a sudden burst of emotion at his words, worsened further by the photograph he attatched below the already blunt message. Suddenly, you were wide awake and sleep was no longer a passing thought. Freshly showered with a towel hung low on his hips, Jake’s face was hidden behind the phone taking said picture in the foggy bathroom mirror. His hair, not even bothered to be towel dried, was dripping water down his tanned chest, and in the small frame of his face that you could see, a smirk was on the corner of his lips.

Beneath the towel, though, was what caught your attention more than anything else. His dick, half hard and pressing against the fabric, sent you down a steep spiral that nearly made you jump from the couch and drive back to his hotel. You swallowed hard, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your head push further into the pillow below you.

Maybe, in love and not fully together would be far harder than just sticking damn friends.

☾𖤓

You woke with a start, your head pounding and your heart racing as your phone rang loudly on your chest. You blinked hard, trying to adjust to the bright light pooling in through the large windows behind you. With a long intake of breath, you pushed yourself upwards, grabbing your phone in one hand and rubbing your face with the other. You peeked at the screen, recoiling at the brightness as you tried your best to adjust. Once you did, you felt your stomach drop and your chest tighten.

Private number.

Could it really be?

You cleared your throat, straightening yourself out as you hit accept on the call. Putting on your friendliest and most professional persona, you placed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N?” On the other side of the phone was a man, curt but seemingly friendly enough.

“Yes, speaking.” You replied, trying to ignore the pull of your heartstrings. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, terrified of getting excited only to be let down.

“So nice to finally be in touch with you again!” He greeted again, chipper and cheery as he realized he was speaking with the right person. “I’m not sure if you remember me—we had a brief meeting here when you dropped off your application. My name is Bruce Myers and I’m calling on behalf of the English Faculty at the University of Michigan.”

“Hi, Mr. Myers. Of course I remember, it’s a pleasure to be speaking with you again.” You responded, now awake and on high alert as you prepared for the best or the worst news of your life.

“Please, Bruce is fine.” He chuckled. “I have to say, I’ve been sitting in my office reading over your resume all morning. All week, actually.” He cleared his throat. You could hear a chair wheel squeaking in the background, then a rustle of papers as he shuffled them around at his desk. “Top of your class in high school, and at UPenn. 5 years experience as a TA, and an achievement and awards list I’m not sure I could compare to.” Your cheeks turned red at the compliment, a fizzle of excitement sparking in your chest. You did your best to extinguish it, remembering that nothing was set in stone and he could be talking you up in hopes of letting you down easy.

“Thank you, Bruce. It’s been a long road to get here, but as I hope you can see, education has always been a top priority for me. When I came back to Michigan, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to apply at such a fantastic university.” You tried to hide the nervous shake in your tone, biting down on the tip of your tongue as you cringed at your own words. You hoped you weren’t coming on too strong, too desperate.

“I can speak on behalf of all of us when I say we’re incredibly lucky to have received your application.” He let out a small chuckle, taking in a breath as he got lost in thought for a moment. “As I’m sure you know, hiring qualified candidates has been a struggle for everyone as of late.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” You allowed yourself to let out a small laugh, keeping up small talk but eager for him to get to the point.

“I hope we didn’t take too long to reach out—if it were up to me, I would have hired you on the spot, but of course we had a few hoops to jump through first.” Your heart raced, your eyes sparkling as he continued to talk. “If you’re interested and still available, we’d like to extend the offer for you to join us here for the month of August. With no prior lecturing experience, it’s a little more difficult to give you the position immediately, but we’ve all come to the agreement it would be foolish of us to pass up the opportunity to bring in someone who’s so eager to learn.”

“And what exactly would that entail?” You swallowed hard, wanting to agree immediately but knowing it was best to take your time with it.

“Well, four weeks of training, which is as much for you as it is for us. You would be under a mentor, learning the basics and balance of such a fast paced program. It would give you an opportunity to learn the campus, learn about your colleagues at the same time, and it would also allow us to get to know you. It would be probationary, of course, but if at the end of the four week term we’re all on the same page, we could have you teaching an intro to literature course for the fall semester.”

Your mouth went dry, your palms clammy and your heart racing. You were too stunned to speak, so excited that you thought you might have to pinch yourself to pull yourself from a dream. You’d been waiting for a call for weeks, losing hope and more disappointment growing by the day. You barely expected a grade school to reach out, let alone a university.

Then, at the back of your mind, you heard it—loud and clear, and tantalizing.

“You’ll get a job, sunshine. I bet you ten bucks you’ll get a call tomorrow.”

He was right, and you struck him down as if he was speaking nonsense.

With Jake’s words of encouragement echoing in your mind, you pulled yourself out of your state of shock and nodded eagerly, even if the man on the other end of the phone could not see it.

“I would be delighted to join you, and even more so to prove that I’m the right person for the job.”

“Excellent.” He boomed, relived that you accepted the offer. “Why don’t you come down to campus on Friday. We can discuss some more details, really get into the specifics… expectations and salaries and such. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “That’s perfect. Any time works.”

“Let’s say ten, and go from there?” He offered, clearly willing to work with you on the matter.

“Of course, ten is great. I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Y/N. If you have any questions or concerns between now and then, please feel free to reach out to me. I’ve forwarded some information to the email you have on your resume, so you can respond there, or give me a call during business hours if that suits you better.” He explained, the rustling papers ceasing and the squeak of his chair no longer audible.

“Thank you for taking a chance on me, Bruce. I’ll be sure to reach out if I can think of anything.”

“Perfect, thank you. Goodbye for now, and we’ll talk on Friday.”

“See you Friday!” You let a little excitement slip, but he didn’t seem to notice or care as he ended the call. When the line disconnected, it left you staring at the Lock Screen of your phone with an unfamiliar feeling twisting your stomach.

You were nervous, but thrilled to have an opportunity like such. It was the biggest moment of your life, the most exciting change and the very thing you’d been waiting for. You were so filled with energy you could have run laps around the house, the few hours of sleep barely bothering you as you reran the conversation through your head a million times.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed to yourself, quiet but still enough to express some of the joy you were feeling. Just as you did so, paws against the floor sounded and Ozz appeared in the doorway, happy to share your excitement and most definitely looking for someone to fill his food dish. He approached the couch, jumping up and landing on your legs as he began to purr. “I have a job, Ozz. I actually have a job!” You scratched behind his ear, knowing it was insane to share such sentiments with a cat, but unable to keep it locked up.

Then, the realization struck you; you had to tell people, share the great news and celebrate accordingly.

The only issue was, the first person that came to mind was not your best friend who lived the struggle with you, still sleeping upstairs and awaiting good news. It wasn’t your mother, there by your side every minute of every day of your life, cheering you on and holding your hand. It wasn’t your sister, and it wasn’t even your cat.

Jake was the only person in the whole world you wanted to share the news with.

Even if he should not be that person for you anymore, even if he didn’t care as much as the others would, you couldn’t bear to speak to anyone else but him. Telling someone else before him nearly sickened you, because after everything you had been through with him, he was the only person who deserved to know. He listened to you speak your dreams aloud from fifteen to now, studied with you, filled out university applications with you, and sent you off to school even when all you wanted to do was turn around, even if it hurt him so badly to do so. Even during the six years he was absent, there was a part of you that continued on solely because he was alive, existing at the same time as you somewhere in the world. His absence never had any effect on the support and love and encouragement he always gave to you.

So, you did exactly that; you clicked his contact, immediately drafting up a message and hitting send without thinking twice.

You

I have ten bucks here with your name on it, bug. I never could have done any of this without you. I love you more than you could ever know ❤️

You didn’t care if he responded, nor if he ever read it. It felt right to express the truth, freeing to be completely transparent with him. He deserved to know how much he meant to you, how his impact on you lasted through years of life, survived through every struggle, and existed in your heart even when he was not right in front of you. He was responsible for every good thing, every accomplishment and triumph you ever experienced, because his love made you into the person who stared back at you in the mirror. Loving Jake was never an option because without him, you wouldn’t be you.

Maybe, despite all of the doubt and uncertainty, the confusion and the hurt, the sun was shining again, for both of you. The world no longer had to be bleak, scary and lonely, because you finally knew where you were headed. Your feet, firmly planted on the ground for the first time in your entire life, no longer wanted to stay put in one place. Instead, they were begging to run towards the only thing in the world that ever felt like home, to run to him.

And maybe, just maybe, your wish upon a star was worth it this time, and the two of you could finally overcome the struggle and be together once again.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake

[kenacoki]

Organized Prompt List

Funny

"Oh my god, i feel like shit." "Gee, I wonder why?

"I have the attention span of a goldfish on speed, and I'm okay with that."

"So, I have a surprise for you..." "Why'd that box just move?"

"If you're feeling down, I highly recommend binge-watching old episodes of 'Friends' and pretending everything's fine."

"It's all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits." "What the fu-"

"I don't know which is worse: the taste of this coffee or your sense of humor."

"Please tell me you have a spare key..." "...That was the spare key."

"It's three in the morning." "Yeah, and...?"

"Well, that was a terrible idea..." "It was your idea!"

"We've nearly died enough today so please get down before you bust your head open."

"You were so high you had a staring contest with a photograph of my dead grandma."

"I can hear you sighing in disappointment ya' know...you're not exactly subtle."

"If you die, just know I'm bringing you back just so I can put you back in the ground myself!"

“Uhhh…how many of those have you ate?” “I don’t know, like five?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day.” “It’s 9:05 am.”

“I’ve been thinking…” “Well don’t hurt yourself.”

“I need some advice.” “You came to me for advice?”

“Did you go to the doctor?” “No, I slept for nine hours.”

“I think I need therapy.” “I think you need a reality check.”

“Do you remember that time we—” “Don’t…finish that thought.”

Fluff

"Did-Did you just kiss me on the forehead?" "I'm so so sorry, I've been babysitting all week, when I heard you say 'ow', i just acted without thinking."

"Please stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" "All...ya know, soft n' stuff...it’s freaking me out."

“You know, I can tell when you’re mad cause your cheeks turn this cute shade of red.”

“Have I ever told you how cute you are when you pout?”

“Will you just…just hold me?”

“Just pretend to be my date!” “Excuse me?”

“You know how proud you make me, right?”

“Can I…can I hold your hand?”

“Tell me, have you ever seen something more beautiful than this?” “Yeah, you.”

“Hey, I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“Oh my god…you’re jealous!” “I am not!”

“Are you blushing?”

“I love you.” “I know.”

“Would you stay with me…please?”

“I really, really want to kiss you.” “Then do it.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I mean, yeah I’d make out with them but like—platonically, you know?” “…You-you can’t make out with someone platonically.” “Sure you can! We’ve done it like…I don’t how many times now.”

“Mmm…you’re so warm.”

“So, uh…how’d your date go?”

“Have you ever thought about…us. Y’know, as an item?”

Angst/Hurt

“You told me that I didn’t have to worry about them.”

“Will you just listen to me for a second?” “What do you think you could say that could possibly make this better?!”

“How am I supposed to trust you after that?!”

“Just-just tell me how I can fix this.” “You can’t.”

“Did…did I mean anything to you?”

“I’m sorry—” “Don’t-don’t apologize if you’re just going to keep doing this shit. Apologize when you’re actually going to change.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

“You’re here.” “I’m here…just like I promised.”

“You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”

“I…I never got the chance to tell you that I love you.” “Maybe that was for the best.”

“Every time I wake up, the first thing I do is look for you…but you’re never there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not your job to worry about me.”

“There’s a part of me that still loves you…and I absolutely hate myself for it.”

“You’re in denial—” “I am not in denial!”

“You can’t just keep ignoring your feeling like this.”

“So what, that’s it?” “Yeah…yeah I guess it is.”

“No! You can’t give up like this!”

“It’s…you’re too late.”

“Maybe we should just…stop.”

“I need you to wake up now…cause I can’t do this without you.”

Smut

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, ya know? Someone should teach you what to do with it.”

“You don’t have to do that.” “I want to.”

“C’mon, let’s get you into the bathtub.”

“Who do you want?” “You.”

“Why are you in my bed—wait! Are you naked?!”

“Can I at least take my shoes off before you jump me?” “…I guess.”

“I’ll kiss you if that’s what it takes to shut you up.”

“I swear to god, if I’m late because you can’t keep it in your pants.” “I can’t help it when you look so good.”

“Look at how needy you are, even after everything we’ve done.”

“We…we shouldn’t do this. It’s a bad idea…right?” “Yeah…yeah, definitely a bad idea.”

“I’m about two seconds away from bending you over this counter, don’t push your luck.”

“Bite me.” “I mean, if you’re offering.”

“I told you that I’d take care of you, did you think that I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

“Oh, fuck me.” “That’s the plan!”

“So good for me, just look at how much you came.”

“Oh my god!” “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want everyone to know how much of a slut you are.”

“It’s not my fault you keep turning me on!”

“Are you serious?” “Does it look like I’m joking?”

“This stays between us.”

“There’s people here!” “I know.”

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

[coralinenymphette]

picture you (s. rogers x reader) ꩜

- - - -

it wasn’t strange for steve to have pictures of you. you’d been together for a long time, but this is a picture you’d never seen before, in a place you’d least expect it.

- - - -

whilst steve was out and about for the day, you found yourself cleaning up around the apartment.

steve hadn’t bothered with taking his shield to the compound, rambling about how all he had to do for the day was paperwork, training, and meetings.

you waltzed into the front hallway of the cozy apartment and scooped up steve’s shield, spinning it around in your clutch and sliding your arm through the harness part. steve had told you about how, in the 40s, he kept a photo of peggy in his compus. heck you’d seen it in the documentaries about him, but what you didn’t expect to see inside the shield was a photograph of yourself.

smiling brightly, there you were. taped haphazardly, and a bit crooked, with a piece of tape was your bright smiling face. taken probably a month prior when the two of you went on a walk through the scenic downtown of your childhood town. you hadn’t caught steve taking the picture, but he was quiet and stealthy despite his large frame so that didn’t surprise you.

you hummed softly as you brought the shield to it’s rightful spot, still thinking of the sweet gesture of your boyfriend keeping a picture of you inside his shield. surely the tape had to have been replaced before, tape wouldn’t usually stick to vibranium well, let alone when the shield is flying through the air at high speeds.

taking that thought into consideration, you sat on the couch and called up tony.

“well hello starshine, for what do i own the pleasure of your call.” stark smirked, spinning around in his own desk chair at the compound.

“are you currently in the room with steve?” you asked, picking at the skin of your nails.

“capsicle is currently boxing with his 7th sand bag in the basement.” he hummed, as you let out a quiet chuckle.

“well i have a project for you if you’re not busy, could i bring it by in a minute? it’s a surprise for steve” you said, already standing up and grabbing the shield and your shoes.

“course i’m not busy, i am the boss.” he quipped, “come by at 12.” then he hung up.

12 came and went, and after tony finished up your little idea, you were back home getting ready for steve to get back from work so you could show him his surprise.

at 6 pm sharp, the apartment door clicked open and closed, steve setting down his bag and keys and slipping off his shoes. “baby?” he called, stepping farther into the apartment.

“‘m in the living room stevie.” you responded, carefully setting the shield onto the rack tony built for it when steve first came out of the ice.

steve was quick to make his way into the living room and take you into his arms, lightly kissing your temple as he did so. “hi sugar” he mumbled, kissing your other temple.

“hi stevie, how was work?” you asked, bursting with the need to show him his surprise.

“pretty good baby, but ‘m glad to be home. the apartment looks nice by the way,” he hummed, looking around at the cozily lit, freshly cleaned room.

“thanks… did you notice anything else?” you questioned, turning in his hold to face the shield.

“my shield is in it’s spot?” he asked, looking at you with a confused expression.

“ah ah that’s not all, flip it over.” you said, patting his lower back slightly to get him to detach from you and go pick up the shield.

he walked over slowly, picking the shield up and turning it over. he let out a slight huff of laughter as he saw the picture of you was no longer taped inside the shield but permanently attached to it. “how?” he asked, smiling at the picture and then up at you.

“i went to the compound while you were training and i had tony create like this picture frame. then he welded it to the inside of the shield, and here’s the cool thing,” you hum, taking the shield from his grasp.

“the top part has a hinge so you can unlatch it and put a new photo.” you smiled, looking up at him.

“god i love you and your genius brain,” he laughed, setting the shield back in it’s spot and picking you up, your feet dangling in the air as laughter spilled from your lips.

“i love you too, and i love how you love me.” you giggled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

꩜

[xoxochb]

Your work is absolutely amazing I love it so much, you keep me well fed truly 💝 I always have to many ideas, I just never can turn them into words lol I don’t know why but I think a story about Travis Stoll and a child of Iris would be cool! I subscribe to the school of thought that Hermes kids are good with photography, so that mixed with an Iris kids natural talent with colors or painting seems like a good duo. Also theyre both kids of messenger gods so I find that really nice. how would you feel about a story where the both of them try out the others form of art in some way? Sorry if it’s to vague, never sent a request before 😊 thank you!

⋆·˚ ༘ * the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color

warnings: none

pairing: travis stoll x daughter of iris

“hi sunshine, what’re you working on?”

you smile and put down your paintbrush on the easel before running to your boyfriend to pull him in for a hug

“travis! I haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?” you pull away, arms still around his neck

“counselor duties, but I’m off for the rest of the day, I wanted to see you” he plants a quick kiss on your lips “have you been painting?”

“yes! how’d you guess?” you laugh

“paint on your cheek” he rubs it off with his thumb

“do you want to see it?” you bit your lip

“of course I do, c’mon” he grabs your hand and you drag him to your easel

“you know that picture of the sunrise you took the other day? I decided to paint it” you smile proudly

“it’s amazing, this is wonderful!” he kisses your cheek

you blush, “thanks, but I need to finish it, you wanna watch?”

“yeah, let’s do it” he sits on the floor beside your stool, which you take a seat on

you pick up the paintbrush and finish up the painting, you had done most of it the previous day, so you only had a few touch ups left, and after about a half an hour you finally finish it

something in you wishes you had more to do on it because you love the way your boyfriend is sitting beside you, his eyes not focused on the painting but on you, and you figure this out when you turn your head to him and he’s looking at you with lovesick eyes

“need something?” you ask, trying to sound mean, but the smile on your face gives you away

“you” he stands up and wraps his arms around your shoulders

“you’re weird. do you like it?” you ask

“I love it” he kisses the top of your head

you sit in silence for a moment, and it’s not the awkward kind of silence, it’s comforting. you wish you could stay like this forever, but when you get an idea you can’t help but share it

“travis?” you speak

“sunshine?” he says

“what if you try painting and I try photographing?” you bend your head back to see him without turning around

he kisses you “I’m not good at painting”

“yes you are! remember that forest picture you did last month? It’s amazing!”

“It was alright…”

“will you do it? for me?” you ask

“I guess I can try”

you squeal and stand up, pulling him in for another hug “I love you thief”

“alright, alright, let’s do it”

- 🌈 -

“which button do I press to take the photo?”

“the red one”

for the past half an hour you’ve been trying to learn all the buttons on the camera, eager to take a decent photo, but unfortunately it’s not that simple

you point the camera in the direction of the pink sky and press down on the red button, which supposedly will take the photo

“oh my gods I did it!” you beam

“let’s see the photo” travis smiles at you

you use your newfound information to find the photo you previously took. once you take a look at it you hand the camera to your boyfriend to show him the picture, “your turn to paint it”

- 🌈 -

“first things first: picking your colors”

“alright I need pink, yellow, white, green, black maybe? brown too I think”

you walk over to the box of paints you have sitting on your bed, and pick up the colors necessary

“now that you have the colors you have to put them on this pallet, then you can start painting!” you explain

“this shouldn’t be that hard…” travis trails off

and with that he starts painting, it’s not exactly a masterpiece but since he’s your boyfriend and you love him you tell him that he’s a professional painter and his work is the best you’ve ever seen

“I told you that you would do great” you say

“it’s alright” he shrugs

“I’ll hang it up above my bed!”

although it’s not the best piece of art you’ve ever seen, it was made with tons of love, and it’s a symbol of your relationship and happy memories, something so comforting to you, so you take your boyfriends painting and pin it to the wall above your bed

it’s something you’ll never take down, and everyday you look forward to seeing the pink painting on your wall

[songforeddiemunson]

Haunting in Blackwood Hollow Part 2

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter Two: Fool Me Once

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. Smut, p in v sex, bit rough (you like it) wrap it before you tap it. Spooky situations

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the smut inspo, @hiscrimsonangel (with this post haha iykyk)

Word Count: ~3K

PART ONE

You stayed up quite late that first night catching up with your old friends, drinking cans of pilsner or oversweet margarita mix from sticky solo cups, laughing your asses off, the ouija board forgotten and back in its box. No longer a big fan of heavy drinking yourself, you cut yourself off after just a few drinks, preferring the more mellow buzz of herb than bubbles. 

Jonathan got quite drunk, which was a riot, and his friendly ribbing of Steve always increased in that state, to the delight of everyone in the room. Despite Steve’s history with Nancy (and subsequently Jonathan), the three of them managed to become great friends. 

Robin bemoaned what she referred to as her perpetual spinsterhood, making you all laugh; “I don’t think you can legally call yourself a spinster at 23,” Steve said. “Just enjoy not being tied down yet,” he finished, causing the rest of the room to tease him for projecting, considering he couldn’t seem to find his one-and-only either (but he pretended he didn’t mind, fooling nobody). 

Steve dated plenty, but Robin struggled with it more than he did for obvious reasons. The two of them were roommates for a time in Indianapolis before going their separate ways. The catalyst; one of Steve’s hookups once implied she would like Robin to join them in the bedroom, which horrified them both so much they ultimately got separate places but still lived on the same block. Robin managed a coffee shop and spoke about her wish to try out for the Indianapolis Philharmonic, which thrilled her but made her so nervous she became nauseated whenever she thought about it for too long. Steve had been employed as a junior high school basketball coach for the past year and decided he would like to go back to school for academic sports; he loved working with the kids.

Nancy filled in the group regarding her grad school studies at Columbia University in New York City for journalism. It was hard work but, true to form, Nancy was excelling, and she had a bright future in print journalism in the city. Jonathan had relocated to be with her and was working as a freelance photographer when he wasn’t working in the kitchen of a popular Brooklyn restaurant. He had ultimately decided not to pursue college and chose to support Nancy instead, thinking that would be the best chance for them as a couple. It caused a lot of friction at first, with Nancy initially pushing Jonathan to go to college, but they were able to work through it and had come out stronger.

After high school Eddie had tried his hand at being a musician, mechanic, bartender and assorted other odd jobs with limited success, and ultimately decided to attend vocational school to become a tattoo artist, which was truly his calling. All the doodles he made for Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire Club paid off, and he was one of the most sought-after ink artists in St. Louis, earning enough for the two of you to live in a nice apartment, despite your modest salary as an administrative assistant for a dentist’s office.  

You were all thriving, and it was wonderful to celebrate each other’s successes. The wedding rehearsal was the following evening, and you looked forward to catching up with the younger kids there– “kids” who were all legal adults by this time; a fact that none of you could believe nor enjoyed thinking about. You were all relieved that you weren’t staying with them, despite the less than ideal location in which you found yourselves; those kids were like a pack of ferrets on cocaine, especially when they were all together. It would be too much, so you stuck with your own age bracket.

Finally, around two in the morning, Robin decided to turn in. Nancy and Jonathan followed about fifteen minutes later, leaving you and Eddie alone with Steve.

You stretched and yawned. “I think it’s time for bed. You coming Eddie?”

Eddie waggled his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know, am I?” he asked, his voice dripping with hyperbolic innuendo.

You laughed and gave him a smack on his tightly bedenimed rear end. “Just get moving, Munson.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted, while Steve rolled his eyes.

It turns out that mercifully, someone did actually change the sheets.

A blessing, honestly, considering you were currently tangled up in them, with the sharp bones of Eddie’s pelvis almost painfully pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs. The bed, old and squeaky with a metal frame that resembled something out of a cold war era prison, was a loud testament to the rhythm of your sex. You couldn’t be bothered to care much, since it felt incredible. The few cans of PBR you had chugged didn’t hurt either.

Eddie had you pinned to the mattress, caged between his arms as he nuzzled and suckled your neck, punctuating soft kisses with nips that would surely leave a mark. You enjoyed it like this sometimes, when he would manhandle you just a bit, claiming you, marking you, and fucking you roughly into the mattress. Sure, there was a time and place for soft lovemaking, but sometimes, you just wanted to be nailed.

“Feel so good baby,” he murmured into your ear, barely more than an exhalation, most of his efforts being concentrated on slamming his cock into your depths. You could barely do more than wiggle and squeal with the way he had you immobilized, which seemed to heighten every sensation. Even his breathy little grunts and gasps were sending you into the stratosphere. You clawed at his back, and the resulting moan in your ear helped bring on climax number three, and you bit into Eddie’s shoulder to stifle your cries.

Eddie’s pace began to falter, and he grasped your waist roughly with his fingers as he shuddered and thrust to his own completion, ending with a final grind of his hips against your sensitive clit, making you yelp. “Ha,” he burst triumphantly; he could be a cocky shit when it came to the pleasures he could draw out of you. He also wasn’t wrong. 

After a tender kiss, Eddie rolled off of you and retrieved his boxers from the floor, sliding them on before fumbling around on the bedside table for his smokes.  He lay back down with his back propped up against the pillow, lighting a cigarette and sighing contentedly. He looked at you and grinned.

“You think everyone heard us?”

You chuckled. “I don’t see how they couldn’t,” you said, as you dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. “This bed is so squeaky, it almost wasn’t worth even trying to be quiet.” 

Eddie laughed. “You sound so cute though when you try,” he said as he flicked his ash into the ashtray on his nightstand. “All squeaky and whiny,” he finished with a wink.

“How dare you,” you joked. “I’m a vision of propriety.”

“Properly fucked, you mean.”

“Eddie!” you scolded, laughing.

“I’ll take it back when it stops being true darlin.’” 

“You’re the worst,” you countered.

“You love me,” he said.

“Dammit, you’re right, I do,” you said. You bent to kiss him, and as you pressed your lips to his, you felt him smile.

“I love you too babe,” he said. 

It was incredible, how he could still make your heart beat faster after all this time.

You headed into the ensuite bathroom and started to go through your usual bedtime routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face. You were suddenly struck by how exhausted you were; between traveling, cleaning, drinking (and smoking) and some vigorous sex, you were thoroughly spent. You glimpsed through the open bathroom door that Eddie had picked up his paperback of Needful Things, and was reading it by the light of the table lamp.

You clicked off the bathroom light and were just about to exit when something caught your eye out of the window. You peered closer to the thick glass to get a better look.  

There was someone standing below on the lawn.

You couldn’t make out any details, but you had the sudden, hair-raising sense that whoever it was was looking right at you.

You jumped backward in alarm.  "Eddie!” you shouted. 

He was out of bed and by your side in an instant. “What?!  A rat?  Why are you standing in the dark, babe?”  He peered around the room intently.

“No, down there!”  You pointed out the window, down onto the grass, but now the figure was gone.  “But…but it was there a second ago…”

Eddie bent to the glass for a closer look, brows furrowed.  "I don’t see anything. What was it?“

"A person! They were definitely standing down there. And babe– I swear it was looking at me.”

A look of intense wariness crossed his features, and he straightened, all business.  "Are you sure?“

"Yes! It was right there!”

“Stay here.”  He was out of the bathroom like a shot. He quickly pulled on his flannel pajama pants and strode from the bedroom.  You waited with your heart in your throat as you heard the front door below you creak open.  You watched out the window as Eddie came into view on the lawn, carrying a fireplace poker in one hand. He clicked on a flashlight and began to sweep the property with it.  It was late, and the shadows from the trees that peppered the property created long ribbons of darkness across the grass that the lights from the house were unable to penetrate.  You realized that it must have been difficult for Eddie to see out there, even armed with a flashlight, and you broke into gooseflesh at the thought.

Screw this, I’m not leaving him alone out there, you thought to yourself, and left the bathroom.  Eddie hadn’t turned on any of the lights in his wake, and in the darkness the house had taken on an even more sinister quality than when you had arrived. You tried to push it out of your mind, dismissing it as the aftershock from your scare. It permeated regardless, with a nearly palpable weight. You hurried downstairs and toward the front door, clicking on lights as you went.  The downstairs area was deserted; everyone else must have also turned in. You quickly scanned the entry area for a weapon, finding only an umbrella. It would have to do.

You stepped outside, eyes sweeping the lawn for Eddie, hearing only crickets as you peered into the trees. In the moments since you had taken your eyes off of him he had disappeared from view. Your heart was pounding and your breath misted around you in the chilly night air.  You crept forward slowly, and you found that your eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the darkness. The shadows were too inconsistent. Anyone could be watching me from those trees and I’d never know it, you thought. Dammit babe, where did you go? 

“Babe?” you called softly.  Silence. “Eddie,” you called again, a little louder this time. Was that a twig snapping?

“What?” said a voice, from directly behind you.

You squeaked with fright and whirled, striking out with the umbrella.  "Ow, what the fuck?!“ Eddie bent forward, clutching his head.

"Oh my fucking god Eddie! You scared me!”

He rubbed his head in irritation where you had whacked him, mussing up his curls. “What are you doing out here? I asked you to stay inside!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just stand there waiting for you. Are you alright?” you stood on your toes to get a better look at your boyfriend’s scalp, but thankfully there was no blood.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, then sighed resignedly.  "I didn’t see anything in front, so I circled round the back to be sure. There’s nothing out here that I can see.  Are you sure you saw someone?“

"Positive.”

“Your eyes couldn’t have been playing tricks on you?”

“Edward,” you said, your voice taking on an acerbic tone. “You know I’m not prone to hysterics.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, and hugged you to him.  "Maybe it was Steve or something.”

“If it was, where is he now? I didn’t see anyone when I came downstairs.”

Eddie could only shrug at that.

Once back inside, he bolted the front door. "Seems solid,” he said.  He went around the house and checked to be sure all the windows and the back door were locked, and when he was satisfied, you went back to the bedroom together.  As you passed Jonathan and Nancy’s room, Jonathan opened the door and poked his head out, his hair mussed and sticking up in every direction.  

“Someone scream?” he mumbled blearily.

“Eddie saw a spider, go back to bed,” you said. Eddie shot daggers at you with his eyes, but a slight upward curl of his lips belied his irritation. Jonathan only nodded and closed his door.

Back in your own room, you undressed and crawled under the covers, snuggling up to Eddie.

It was quiet for a moment, but the wheels in your mind were still turning. “Maybe it was just a local cutting across the lawn on the way somewhere. They may not be used to the house being occupied,” you offered.

"Maybe,” Eddie replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Will the light bother you if I read for a while?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you said.  "Going to sleep with the light on will be okay with me tonight.”

The following morning you shuffled downstairs for breakfast, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your housemates warmed up the oatmeal or ate the boxed cereals that Nancy helpfully supplied the previous evening.

“Did anyone see or hear anything strange last night?” you asked the group as you poured yourself a cup of hot coffee.

“I think I did,” Steve began. “Some sort of instrument I think. What was that Robin?”

“Bedsprings,” Robin stated simply as she swallowed a bite of peaches ‘n cream flavored oatmeal, looking the worse for wear.

“Uh, besides that,” you said, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. Eddie laughed.

“Don’t hate,” he said.

“I heard Eddie scream at a spider,” Jonathan said, and this time it was your turn to laugh.

“It was NOT me, and it was not a fucking spider!” Eddie yelled, offended by the notion.

“No,” you said, quelling your giggles. “It was actually me. I– I thought I saw someone outside last night, watching me when I was getting ready for bed.”

Steve sat forward, suddenly wide awake. “Wait, really?”

You nodded. “Eddie went out to look for whoever it was but he didn’t find anything.”

“Oh shit,” Robin said, “that’s the last thing I needed to hear. Can we go to a hotel now?”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” Nancy said. “Maybe it was just a local?”

“The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away,” you said. 

“I dunno,” Jonathan chimed in, “you hear stories about cannibals living in the woods in Appalachia…”

“That’s a gross stereotype,” Robin scolded.

“Feel free to ignore him,” Nancy said with a sigh.

“My mom was from Appalachia!” Eddie spat.

“Okay, nevermind,” Jonathan said, as he shrank down in his seat and went back to his oatmeal.

“Well if it wasn’t a local, what could it have been?” Steve asked.

“Maybe messing with the ouija board woke something up,” Robin said, and though you normally didn’t place much stock in those things, you felt something akin to an ice cold finger trail down your spine. You shivered.

Steve chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

“No really!” Robin cried defensively. “In the movie Witchbo–”

“I am not using a shitty 80s horror film as a guidebook!” Steve shouted.

“Whatever,” Robin said. “If you guys get murdered by an evil axe-wielding ouija spirit, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You laughed it off along with everyone else, yet the idea wouldn’t leave you. It was unsettling, to put it mildly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was studying your expression. You did always wear your emotions on your sleeve, and he could sense your unease.

“So,” Eddie said. "What’s everyone wearing to the wedding?"

His umber eyes slid over to yours as the conversation devolved into fashion and hairstyling chatter.

Thank you, you mouthed to your boyfriend, and his Mona Lisa smile wordlessly said, I’ve got you. And he did, that much you would never be unsure about. Regardless of what was happening in your life, Eddie Munson would always have your back, which made you feel very lucky indeed. 

You didn’t know it yet, but it was a sentiment you would come to rely upon much more in the days to come. 

To Be Continued...

More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

MASTERLIST

[ryanwritesfanfiction]

hiiii could I request something for Adam Stanheightttt ? Like an enemies to lovers type thingggg

Is this it?

Adam Stanheight x reader  

a/n im so sorry if this is too long or if its too rushed. im still new to writing im gonna get the hang of it i swear also i might do a part 2 im not sure yet if this warrants one :P |no use of pronouns or y/n

ps i kinda like giving these fics titles of song but they arent super related to the actual fic ;-; anyways feedback is much appreciated <3

wc: 1485

The first time I met Adam, I was moving into my new (to you at least, but actually very old) apartment after I decided I had enough of my parents. I was moving the remaining boxes into my apartment and I heard a shutter from a camera. In front of my door was a group of about 4 people wearing matching shirts that said  “Wrath of the Gods” and in front of them was a guy with a camera.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said holding the heavy boxes of my remaining belongings. They all turned at me and didn't say anything until a man with greasy brown hair in front of the camera spoke up “Hey” he said walking towards me and I decided to put the boxes down in front of the door they were currently blocking. 

“I’m Scott Tibbs lead singer of this band Wrath of the Gods, we’re just taking pictures for our new album, you should come to our show, we can always use more groupies” You stare at him for a while before the photographer spoke up 

“Hi, I’m Adam, you must be my new neighbor I live right across the hall right there” and he pointed to the door nearest to your apartment. “Hi,” you said and you introduced yourself as well before pausing “Do you think you could take pictures somewhere else so I can finish moving in?” you asked as you reached down to pick up the boxes.

 “Oh, right, yeah, sure,” Adam said awkwardly. He approached the band members and they all walked downstairs most likely to find a different place to finish their makeshift photoshoot. Adam followed behind them but before he turned to you and smiled. You smiled halfheartedly in return and finished settling into your new home. At that point, you had no idea that you would grow to hate your new neighbor. 

It was a buildup of more and more inconveniences like that which caused you to build a slow but strong resentment towards Adam. Things like leaving trash in the middle of the hall, coming home at 3 in the morning and making a bunch of noise, and the smell of cigarettes or weed always lingered in the hall because of him even though you lived in a smoke-free apartment.    

After a few times confronting him about his constant disturbances, he started to seem annoyed. You weren't sure at which point the hate between the two of you started but after living there a few months, anytime you saw Adam or he saw you both your eyes filled with an intense irritation and after a while, it became simply an immense anger. You were unaware that Adam’s hatred for you was not fueled by mere annoyance, but instead by a wall he built around his fear of not being able to have you.

 He was so sure that in your head he was nothing but an inconvenience that he had to convince himself that he didn't care, that he didn't want you to begin with. He pushed away any thought he had about you. It had started becoming increasingly difficult, he noticed, to pretend to hate you back. With every snarky comment that was exchanged between the two of you, he found himself focusing on everything except whatever you were mad about. He thought about the way your nose moved when you huffed angrily at him or the way you moved your hands when you were dumbing down why whatever stupid thing he did was a nuisance for you. 

The more the feud went on the more you found yourself hating things that you would never hate in anyone else and you didn’t know why. You hated the way hair fell on his face, you hated the way his whiny voice insisted that you were always blowing everything out of proportion but there was a part deep down that knew that even though you hated Adam, getting to see him an argue him was the best part of your day. 

There is such a small difference between anger and adoration because they are both just different forms of passion. Maybe you hated each other, it could be that you and Adam were just angry people or maybe you were both passionate people, that the world had bullied into just being angry. It’s possible that in a different life, in a different world, you and Adam could have been loving people. 

You weren't sure when you started hating Adam, and you were even less sure when the subconscious parts of your mind decided that you started loving him. 

You stopped one night outside your apartment building for a smoke when a small cat approached you, you put the cigarette out and reached down to pet it. The cat started meowing and you sat down on the ground next to it.  A shadow came towards you and you immediately recognized the voice, but it wasn’t talking to you, it was talking to the cat. “You should be quieter,” he said as he approached the feline, “this one seems to hate just about any noise or maybe just noise that I make ” he sat next to the cat so that it was between the two of you.

Perhaps it was because you were tired, or maybe that part of you that started to care for Adam had started to overpower the pettier part that “hated him”, but what you were sure of was that you were far too tired to engage in trivial disputes and you were also painfully aware that you were far too excited to see Adam. 

Your lack of reply didn’t go unnoticed by Adam and he paused for a minute confused by your lack of response, and maybe even a little hurt by it, as if your unwillingness to participate served as a rejection. “Hey,” he said softly as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder almost as if he was trying to wake you up. The physical contact caused you to look at him, there was a brief moment where you just looked at him, and neither of you noticed that the stray cat had already run off nor had you noticed that the space between the two of you was fairly small. The entire time you had known Adam you had never been this close physically, you took a few moments more to admire the way his features looked in the dim street lighting. 

“Hey,” you finally replied and you started to stand up off the ground while Adam did the same. “So um, you seem kinda out of it,” he said as you both made your way into the apartment building. You start to realize that what Adam is expressing is a genuine concern, and you begin to think that maybe Adam doesn't really hate you and you don't hate him. “Yeah I’m fine, just tired,” you reply. “That might be my fault,” he said in a sheepish, apologetic tone “I’ve been working night more and I might be a little loud when I come back home but it’s not on purpose honestly” he starts to ramble in a nervous way that you had never seen in him before. “It’s ok,” you say to him. “Are we?”  he says almost in a whisper as looks at you hesitantly for a little after asking. 

You look at him confused for a little before he clarifies “Are we ok? Like are we cool?” You smile at him before saying “I didn't know there was a ‘we’”. He smiles back at you, refreshed that your banter seems to be back, although now with much less animosity. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he said simply but with the veil of friendly banter that he leaned into out of fear of rejection. 

You were a little taken aback by his sudden boldness and so you couldn’t come up with a witty reply or any reply for that matter. “You don’t have to say yes” his voice interrupted the thought running through your mind, “But my friend Scott is in a band, they're having a concert next Friday and maybe” his voice trails off as if too scared to fully ask. “I would love to,” you said suddenly and Adam looked up at you surprised, but excited “Great! So, uh, it’s a date?” he asked. You smile and nod as you walk to the door of your apartment. “Yeah, a date, good night Adam,” you said before disappearing behind the door of your apartment. “Goodnight,” he said in an unusually upbeat tone. Adam took a second before going into his own apartment and silently praised himself for finally winning you over. Neither of you was sure when or why you started hating each other, but what you were both sure of was that you couldn’t wait until the next time you could see each other.

[half-oz-eddie]

Thank you @shieldofiron for passing the baton my way ♡

here's my contribution for the @harringrove-relay-race!

There’s never a dull moment at 1566 Main Street, where Neil Hargrove is a slumlord. He owns a shitty building that’s hanging on by a thread and he’s too cheap to pay for the upgrades. But he wanted that ceiling rent, right? Cheap Bastard.

More often than Billy would like, his phone rings, because this or that is busted and fucked up, and Neil just leaves it all on Billy’s shoulders to get it done, and do it right or else.

He didn’t give a shit that he’d left Billy with such a mess. Their handyman quit months ago, and it was up to Billy as the superintendent to make sure this shit show of a building was running just enough to not end up with an investigative reporter exposing them on the channel 7 news.

Billy sat up, groaning in annoyance when his phone rang again. It was the new tenant down the hall, calling to tell him that his lock was broken.

Billy dragged himself to 3F, knocked on the door, and a preppy, bright-eyed pretty boy answered with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly. I was afraid I’d have to miss work.”

“Not a problem.” He assessed the lock. “This is a shit building anyway. My old man doesn’t do what he should for the tenants.”

“Well at least you care about the tenants, right?”

“Guess so.” He mumbled back, focusing his attention on the door.

The lock was a quick fix, only taking Billy roughly 10 minutes. Thankfully, he had all the right tools on hand. 

“Finished already?” The tenant asked.

“Yeah. Y’mind if I use your bathroom to wash my hands?”

“Go right ahead!” He said welcomingly. “It’s uh—“ He stopped himself with a laugh. “You probably already know where it is.”

Billy nodded, inviting himself down the hall. He caught a brief glimpse into the bedroom, spotting the curtain sheet and mattress on the floor as he passed by.

He washed his hands and headed back to the door, preparing to let himself out.

“I’m right down the hall in 3A, so, if you need anything, you can just knock on my door. Like I said, this place is a shit hole, so…I’ll expect to hear from you again.”

“I’ll probably uh, call first.” He nervously chuckled. 

“Whatever floats your boat, Mr. Harrington. See ya around.”

“Wa-wa-wait!”

Billy turned back. 

“I’d love to thank you. My friends say I make a mean cup of Joe.” He persuaded with a smile.

Billy shrugged. The neighbors weren’t usually so friendly, so this was a change of pace. “Why not?”

He was offered the only chair in Mr. Harrington’s apartment at a wobbly little table.

A few minutes later, Mr. Harrington joined him at the wobbly table, offering him his only good mug, keeping the mug with a broken handle for himself. He sat on a storage box, his chin meeting the tabletop.

“So, Mr. Hargrove—“

“Please call me Billy. My dad’s Mr. Hargrove.”

“Only if you call me Steve.” He grinned.

“Deal…Steve.” Billy charmingly enunciated his name.

“So, Billy,” he continued “have you always lived in Los Angeles?”

“No. Lived in San Diego most of my life. My gramps left this building to my dad about 4 years ago, and he made me the super.”

“Oh, I see. I kinda moved out here on a whim.” Steve shrugged. “I was staying in a shitty motel for a few days before I secured this place. My dad’s not too happy I’m here, so we’re not on speaking terms.”

“What’s he got against LA?” Billy curiously asked, eyebrows raising as he sipped the surprisingly delightful cup of coffee.

“Nothing, I don’t think. He’s just pissed I didn’t wanna join the family business. I wanted to give modeling a try.”

“Modeling?” Billy snorted.

“Y-you don’t think I can?”

“Pretty boy like you? You could definitely be a model.” Billy nodded.

Steve hung his head down, hiding a blush. “You’re uh…you’re a nice looking guy yourself. You’ve never considered modeling?”

“I did once, but the photographer said I’m…difficult to work with.” Billy smirked mischievously, causing Steve to laugh. “I just don’t like people telling me what to do. Stand like this, stand like that, poke your cock out a bit.” He joked. “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Surfing, swimming, cars, I dunno. If I could do all 3 for the rest of my life, I would. But I’m stuck here, fixing shitty locks and making sure my old man doesn’t get sued.” Billy glanced at his vibrating phone and stood. “Gotta go. Thanks for that…mean cup of Joe.” Billy smiled. “See ya around.”

“Bye!” Steve waved, a wide smile on his face. He let out a happy sigh. Maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

A week later, Billy received a call after hours. It was Steve Harrington again.

“Hey. You having some kind of emergency? I’m…sorta off the clock.”

“Yeah I—shit—sorry! Something happened with one of my pipes and now there’s—ah! God dammit! There’s water everywhere. Couldja help me?”

“Be right there.”

Billy sighed and put his shoes back on. “I’m so tired of this shitty fucking building.” He grumbled. “Something’s always fucking fucked up.”

He swung his door open in annoyance, locked it swiftly and headed down the hall. 

He gave Steve’s door a harsh knock, his eyes narrowing at the wet idiot standing before him.

“I uh…” He exhaled. “I tried to fix it myself, but I made it a whole lot worse.”

Billy rushed in, groaning. “Jesus, Harrington, What did you do?”

“I-I dunno!” He exclaimed worriedly. “I just—I didn’t wanna bother you after hours.”

Billy was so irritated, but he couldn't find it in his heart to shout at the pathetic, sopping wet dumbass. One look in those shameful, doe eyes behind those dripping bangs, and Billy simply had no fight in him. It was pretty sweet of Steve to think of him by trying to fix the pipe on his own. But jesus, what a mess!

“This place is hanging by a goddamn thread, Steve.”

Billy went to work fixing the pipe, water splashing all over him in the process. It took him twice as long as the lock, but he was able to fix the problem before the kitchen began to flood. 

“I’m really sorry.” Steve apologized, handing Billy a towel. "I'll clean everything up."

Billy took off his shirt and rung it out in the sink. “Just…promise you won’t try to fix anything else by yourself, okay?”

Steve slowly nodded, as he was too stunned to speak. His eyes were glued to Billy’s wet, chiseled body, following the water droplets that fell into his jeans. 

“Uh—I—yeah. Yeah I promise.”

“Is there anything else you need fixed before I go?” Billy asked.

“N-no. Nothing else. I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Billy gently patted Steve’s shoulder and let himself out.

Billy returned to his apartment and opened up a can of beer, aggressively chugging it as he fought back the tears in his eyes.

Crisis fucking averted. He couldn’t imagine the world of pain his father would bring upon him if Steve’s apartment flooded.

He didn’t blame Steve. It wasn’t his fault. It was all Neil. Neil and his shitty expectations. His shitty demands and his shitty fucking building. 

Billy wanted to get out of there more than anything, but his father controlled his life for so long, he didn’t have anything to his name. He barely paid him a decent wage for being the building super. What was the fucking point anymore? Billy was destined to be alone and miserable in this dreary building. 

He cried himself to sleep. 

Another week passed. There were only 2 repairs needed in the building, and things felt fairly calm these days. Billy and Steve would catch one another in the hallway. Steve would always wave, and Billy would make a joke about Steve swimming in his indoor pool. 

One afternoon, Billy was on his way down to check the mail and Steve was waiting for the elevator.

“What’s with the big boxes? Moving out already?” Billy smirked, causing Steve to laugh.

“No, no. I bought some new furniture.”

Billy got a closer look at the boxes. Those were some pretty high end brand names. Looks like Harrington came from money. He wouldn’t have moved to an awful building like this, if he were Steve.

“D’you need some help assembling the furniture?”

“Really?” His eyes widened in surprise. “You gonna charge, like, an assembly fee?”

“I won’t. Just being friendly to a tenant and neighbor.”

They exchanged soft gazes and sweet smiles.

Steve accepted the help. “That’d be great. I really wanna get this table together before my friend comes to town to visit me this weekend. She’s gonna bring her girlfriend and her girlfriend really doesn’t like me.” Steve confessed with a laugh.

“No? How come?”

“She thinks I’m stuck up or something, I dunno. I guess it’s because I was an asshole in high school.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah me too.”

“I’m gonna bring these boxes down and then we can put together my furniture now, if you can.”

“I don’t have anything else on my schedule. I was gonna grab my mail and binge watch something.”

“Sorry for ruining your plans.” Steve teased as the elevator door opened.

“You’re not sorry.” Billy softly chuckled. 

They returned to Steve’s apartment together and assembled his table.

“Finally, it’s not a piece of shit little table like the last time you were here.”

“Yep. An actual decent table with some nice chairs.” Billy nodded satisfactorily. “Looks pretty good.”

“You wanna stay for dinner? A-as a thank you. I’ve got a lasagna prepped, if you’re hungry.”

Billy paused before accepting the invitation. “Sure. I could eat.”

Steve popped in his lasagna and toasted some breadsticks, then made 2 plates for himself and Billy.

“Looks damn good, Harrington. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“My mom was always cooking and baking for charity events and dinner parties so I helped out in the kitchen here and there.”

Billy took his first bite, a moan nearly slipping out of his mouth. “Jesus, this is the best food I’ve had in a long time.”

“Really? I-I’m sure you probably cook quite a bit yourself.”

“I don’t cook at all. No idea how.”

“Really? W—I could teach you, if you want. A-and we could eat a few meals together, if your schedule’s free.”

“I live where I work and I have all my meals alone. It’d be nice to eat with someone for a change.”

“You uh…want some wine? I dunno if you drink or—“

“I drink. I’ll take a glass.”

Steve poured a glass of wine for each of them, and they continued to chat into the late hours of the night. Steve fell asleep on his new couch and Billy washed the dishes before leaving Steve’s apartment and heading to bed.

His heart was racing practically the entire night and he couldn’t understand why. What was so great about the hot neighbor-slash-tenant with his soft, fluffy hair and his smooth voice and his stupid smile. Yeah, okay, maybe he looked sexy in an apron and knew his way around the kitchen and he was like a wife, who could also be a husband and he was every goddamn thing Billy wanted—but what’d that matter? He was damned to spend his life alone in that shitty building until Neil died and he was free to demolish it someday. 

Only then would he be free.

A month passed. Billy had dinner with Steve at least twice a week. Sometimes their dinners would turn into movie nights. Steve even invited him over for party games when his friends came into town to visit. 

And each moment they spent together, only caused Billy to fall deeper in love. 

Steve had to work, so there wouldn’t be any dinner that night. He made sure to give Billy some leftovers from the night before, so Billy heated them and ate them before going to bed early.

He groaned in annoyance when his sleep was disturbed by a late night phone call. 

“Another emergency?” He wondered, when he noticed Harrington’s name on the screen. It was 9:52 PM. Did his pipe burst again?

“Hey, Steve, what’s wrong? Is it the pipes?”

“No, but, I do need something repaired. Could you come by for a moment? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Steve was more of a treasure than trouble to Billy. He was the only sense of life in his dreadful world. He would come anytime Steve called, no matter how late.

“No problem, be right there.” He responded cooly, concealing his excitement to see Steve again.

He grabbed his tools and headed down the hall. Steve opened the door before he could knock.

“Alright, show me where the problem is.”

“It’s uh…not something you can use tools for.”

Billy raised a brow in confusion. “What’re you talkin’ about, Harrington?”

“Can—can you fix a broken heart?”

This is what he called me over for?

Billy laughed. “If I knew how, I’d fix my own.”

“Whenever I catch a glimpse of you around the building, you always look so sad and alone. I just…I hate seeing you like that.”

“I’m not like that when we hang out, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does. Because I feel better when I hang out with you too.” There was a long pause as they averted each other’s eyes. They could feel their hearts nearly beating out of their chests. "You like my coffee, you-you laugh at my jokes. You support my ambitions. Even my friends like you!"

"Yeah, your friend's girlfriend seems to like me more than she likes you."

They shared a laugh, and Steve's smile slowly faded as his gaze turned serious.

“W-what I’m saying is...” Steve clenched his sweaty fist “I think…I think I’m falling for you.”

Billy gasped upon hearing the confession. Was this a dream? Was he still in his bed, fast asleep? Maybe he should pinch himself to find out.

“You sure you’re not just trying to get a rent-free apartment?” Billy joked.

“Is uh…is it working?” Steve replied in jest.

Billy nodded. “Yeah. A little bit.”

When Steve gently pulled Billy into his arms, embracing him, Billy knew for sure this wasn’t a dream. He hadn’t been held like this in forever, maybe never. His mom used to hold him tight, but that was familial love. This was…a new and unexpected romantic gesture.

Billy did everything he could to hold back his tears. 

Steve gently pulled away, looking into Billy’s cloudy eyes with his own. 

“You really can fix anything, can’t you?” 

“I dunno if I would call this fixing, but I’m definitely building something new with you.”

Steve kissed him softly, and Billy melted into his arms. For a split second he imagined merging with Steve and never parting with him again. 

“One day, you and me, we’re gonna get the hell outta here. We’re gonna do everything we’ve ever dreamed of, and we’re gonna be happy.”

“Steve, this is the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time. I’m almost satisfied with this.”

“You don’t have to settle, babe. We’re gonna have a beautiful life together, and you’ll never have to fix some shitty pipes ever again.”

“I’m holding you to that promise, pretty boy.”

They sealed the deal with another kiss.

And Steve did keep his promise. 

Thank you for reading! Please look forward to something incredible from @adelacreations ❤️