#if id only talked to him sooner

[afraid-of-the-deep-sea]

God I wish I knew when people want to befriend me I truly just am the most dense bitch earth has to offer

[purpurussy]

.

[hiemaldesirae]

i need to kill myself (re-experiencing debilitating crush i did not ask for)

[mv1simp]

I’m so in love with your writing style and I think for a suggestion max and the reader being toxic asf exes but can’t get over eachother yk and try make eachother jealous but just end up in eachothers bed always 😭 sorry i suck at explaining but id die if i seen u write something like that 🥰

PLS I ALWAYS LOVE THIS CONCEPT nothing more juicy than some toxic tension with exes 🤭

Wicked Games ♥️

Max Verstappen x Toxic Ex!Reader

but baby let’s face it, I’m not into dating, all these hearts I’ve been breaking (come through, I'm not living like i did before)

no matter how hard you try, you just can’t stay away from your toxic situationship with playboy millionaire Max Verstappen after he breaks it off to be “just friends”. At least you can expect him to have more discipline than you, given his skillset as a 3 time F1 champion, right? Too bad he can’t seem to stay away from you either…

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, jealousy, toxic playboy! Max, smut, cheating, hate sex, just the usual classicsTM

You’d heard about Max Verstappen well before you first met him. Having recently moved to Monaco to start your new job working for a software company, you had quickly become familiar with the world of F1 - including its’ current top driver who was known for his aggressive style on the track and his lavish, playboy lifestyle off it. You hadn’t paid much heed to it until you were at a friend of a friend’s house party one night, after being peerpressured by the threat your coworker Bianca delivered that you were apparently “doomed to die alone as an old dog lady who sat in front of her 4 wide screen computers all day.” Bit dramatic, but it did the trick and soon you were walking through the doors of a raging party that night.

You had been warned that Monaco was a small place, filled with many of the rich and elite, and you were bound to run into some politician, actress or influencer sooner or later. You just hadn’t expected the first celebrity you met to be Max Verstappen, three time world champion, freshly out of a highly publicised breakup with a Russian supermodel! Bianca snarked next to you, yet he was laughing loudly in the middle of the living room, surrounded by his friends without a care in the world.

You shrugged, honestly quite disinterested in the celebrity thing, and had forgotten completely about the F1 driver until a few hours later when you found yourself alone on the outdoor balcony wanting some fresh air, tipsy from a bottle of white wine. Hearing the balcony door open and close again behind you, you started talking, assumed your friend had followed you out - I am never letting you convince me to drink that wine again Bianca, oh my god -

Only to turn around and come face to face with the infamous Max Verstappen himself. You hadn’t realised you had squeaked his full name out loud until he smiled bemusedly, saying just Max is fine, sweetheart. You blushed profusely, apologising and didn’t notice the way he looked you up and down in your cute, conservative outfit of light jeans and a fitted pastel cardigan. Instead of going back inside like you had expected, he struck up a conversation about how that white wine was truly deadly, which then led to a debate about the potency of red vs white vs rose, and before you knew it you two had been talking for hours about anything and everything, including your pets (you were very strongly pro-dogs while he preferred cats, which was just diabolical since they ignored humans half the time. He laughed and said that was the whole point). When he found out you worked in software - specifically, for one that specialised in developing e-sim racing tracks, his blue eyes lit up in genuine excitement as he animatedly began discussing specifics with you, an attractive pink flush on his cheeks from his drinking. He was insanely good looking, with his tall broad build and soft smile, and you were pleasantly surprised he was so down to earth. When it was time to go he had easily asked for your number, Bianca gawking at the scene as you typed your details into his phone, your caramel skin all flushed from the attention of a handsome man like Max. She dragged you off after, hissing at you to be careful, he’s way too much of a player for you, don’t expect much from him, okay? After a couple days went by and you had indeed, not heard anything from Max, you accepted that was that and promptly forgot about it.

But then, 3 weeks later in the middle of your Thursday afternoon Pilates session, your phone dinged with a text. Monza track is down in the system wtf. You guys gonna sort this out? You had panicked initially thinking the unknown number was your boss before your phone dinged again. This is Max btw. Wanna come over and fix the glitch here? Just this once plz 🙏

“Here” turned out to be Max’s insane penthouse apartment overlooking the Monaco marina, and just this once became a monthly occurrence whenever Max was home between races and on his rig with you beside him, sharing your technical knowledge about the online track to help him set new records. Monthly became weekly when Max realized you had never actually driven the rig yourself and you found yourself in his lap - for teaching purposes, of course Max stated unconvincingly - and weekly became almost daily when you started to become a little too good on the track and his hands moved down your body, into your cute short shorts and he expertly slid his fingers into you until you fell apart for the first time, still sitting right there on his lap. Think you need some more practise, schatje, Max had smirked. You crashed into the barriers barely 100 metres in. And the rest had been history.

10 months later, this - situationship? relationship? friends with benefits? gaming buddies who fucked on the side? - had you confused. Sometimes he acted like your boyfriend, having homecooked meals together and watching movies on the couch, his head on your thighs asking you to rub his hair in the way he liked. Other times he acted indifferent, giving you the cold shoulder at parties or the rare times you would join your friends at a race. And when you would be stressed about work he would appear as the caring friend on behalf of your now shared group, rubbing your shoulder and offering you comfort and advice. But the worst would be when he would disappear for weeks, obviously busy with work but would cut off all communication and you would be forced to stalk his fan pages to get updates and read rumours of all the models he would be seen with overseas - only for him to turn up at your doorstep randomly wanting to be let in. You tried to be mad each time, yelling at him to explain himself, knowing this wasn’t healthy, really you did - but it was hard to resist his oh so talented tongue when he would lay you back and whisper sweet apologies in between your legs, making you come over and over again on his fingers, then with his mouth and finally on his thick cock that you had ended up losing your virginity too. You hadn’t realized how attached you had become to the champion driver until you were on a group trip to Amalfi coast and were caught making out on a moonlit beach by a stray papparazzi, making Max freak out.

He had been the one to very clearly insist on keeping things secret - for both your sakes, he said - given his very public status and you had been happy to agree, being a private person yourself. But as time has passed and Max became the only guy you wanted to be with, you had started to assumed he had been feeling the same - judging by the expensive diamond jewellery he would turn up with to pair with his wicked apologies, when he would always be the one you called to pick you up when you were too drunk to taxi home, and in the quiet, domestic moments when you were curled up together he murmured you understand me in a way no one else does, liefje.

Apparently though, Max has not been on the same page at all, which he made very clear when he publically dismissed the multiple viral pictures of you two - which now circulated the internet as finally some juicy gossip about the unusually single F1 driver had emerged. All your friends had sent the interview clip to you, with Max’s clear dismissal of I don’t know really know her, just an acquaintance from my friend group. My priority is my career, not entertaining the fangirls, he had said without an ounce of guilt on his handsome face.

You’d been desperate to give him a chance to explain himself, thinking it was a PR tactic, but Max had been ignoring your calls for days and you ended up knocking at his door. He’d let you in with a sigh, watching your eyes fill with tears as he said it had never been that serious, c’mon baby, when had I ever said it was exclusive, just a bit of fun for you too wasn’t it? Got a good fucking from me and a bunch of Cartier jewellery. Let’s just stay friends from now on, yeah?

God. What a fucking prick. You made sure he knew it too as you screamed it at him before storming off. You still hadn’t fully accepted it, checking your phone afterwards and expecting him to call and grovel for your forgiveness, until your friend group’s Sunday brunch a couple weeks later, where Max had made a rare appearance - and this time, with a pretty girl you vaguely recognised from a magazine cover right by his side. You had met his eyes across the table briefly, looking for any hint of remorse but finding none, as he quickly looked away, laughing at the girl next to him. You fled straight to Bianca’s after, into her arms and sympathetic gaze as she rubbed you through your sobs. It took you weeks to get out of your depressive slump, your heart completely broken and humiliated publically. You promised yourself, you were never going to shed a tear over Max Verstappen again.

You were a young, hot, and very talented woman living in Monaco - and now that you were no longer hung up on Max, you were free to monopolise on your single status. Althought he has left you with a broken heart, he’d undeniably made you a lot more experienced and confident when it came to navigating guys - without become too emotionally invested, of course. You only needed to get your heart broken once to learn never to do it again. You traded in your cute conservative outfits for more trendy, fitted pieces that show off your body just right as you started going on dates with different guys every weekend.

After a lunch date earlier that day, you were walking into a friend’s house for a group potluck one evening, still dressed in an off shoulder summery minidress and kitten heels, with matching makeup done to complete the look. You’re absentmindedly replying to a text from the guy who had said he’d love to see you again when you catch sight of Max for the first time in weeks, along with a new girl you hadn’t seen next to him. Before, this would have sent you into a spiral, but now you just push down on any unwanted feeling and greet everyone warmly. Conversation is flowing, wine poured and everyone digs into dinner, and when the topic of dating came up your friends were curious to hear about all the dates you’d been spotted on recently. You start telling some of them one of the funnier first date stories where the guy’s ex had been bartending and he had been paranoid the whole night about being poisoned. At some point you notice Max has been glancing in your direction. You look back, raising an eyebrow to say What? and this time he doesn’t break eye contact, staring at you before slowly drifting his gaze up and down your body. You flush and turn around, ignoring him the rest of the night and also ignoring the butterflies that swirled in your stomach from seeing him. Fucking asshole, checking you out while his girlfriend is right next to him on the couch.

Max’s heated stares across the room continue at the next gathering and the one after that and you continued to purposely avoid him. And if anyone noticed that you were dressed in cuter and tighter outfits each time, in the pastel colours that you knew he liked with matching heels, revealing more of your tantalising tan skin for Max’s gaze, they wisely chose not to comment. It all came to a head at a party on Max’s yacht one weekend. You greeted him politely as you stepped on, having come to terms that you two ran in the same circle and had to act like civil adults. He greeted you back easily, arm around a different eye candy model this time. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his usual playboy ways and went to go fix yourself a drink.

After you had all gone swimming and eaten dinner and were now relaxing watching the sunset, your phone dinged with a text to signal the arrival of Anton, who was the latest hire at your workplace and had recently been coming to a few events with your friends. He was also your newest hookups in your recent string of casual relationships - most of which had been average in bed at best, and you had your fingers crossed that Anton was going to deliver. Your group greeted him warmly as he came upto the deck, coming straight to your side and you leaned in to rest on his lap, all relaxed from your cocktails. You didn’t miss Max’s glances at Anton’s hands that lay on your thighs. The night went on and more drinks were drunk and people wandered off, yet Max’s agitated gaze was now firmly fixed on Anton’s fingers moving up your legs, lifting your skimpy sundress and rubbing your thighs. His own latest fling was completely ignored as she sat next to him, clinging onto his biceps. Smirking with satisfaction at having riled Max up for once, you excused yourself to head to the toilet downstairs.

You had barely entered the hallway when you were yanked into a side room and slammed against the door as it closed. Max?! you gasped, looking up to find his stormy blue eyes staring at you heatedly. You push him back with full force, What the fuck do you think you’re doing-

He cuts you off with a scoff, Oh, what I’m doing? You’re the one practically getting fingered by that fuckwit in front of everyone! He steps forward, now even closer into your space, and you can’t deny how turned on seeing him get all hot and bothered has made you. What, jealous Verstappen? Missed me that much? you tease. Too bad, you already fucked it up with me. Otherwise that could have been your hands on me instead.

Max looks positively murderous at your jab before a predatory glint emerges in his eye. Schatje, he says, making you bristle and demand stop calling me that but he ignores you. Schatje, you’re the one who wants my hands on her, hmm? I heard you, you know. Earlier when you were talking to Bianca about how none of the guys you’ve been fucking have been able to do it for you. Making you cum was never a problem for me, remember? don’t you miss it? Shall I fix that problem for you?

Oh, you do remember. For all his arrogance Max was an absolute god in the bedroom and you missed the sex dearly - and it seems Max had been missing it too. He easily lifts you up against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as trails his hands up your dress and you’re rolling your eyes and denying his words, telling him he was a cocky asshole and you hated him but not stopping him as his fingers slid into you, finding you already dripping. He smirks, all ego, but you quickly wipe it off his face by telling him it’s probably still wet from when Anton went down on me earlier. A complete lie but Max didn’t need to know that, did he?

And no one else needed to know that Max angrily swore at your lie as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, grabbing a hold of your tiny dress and whispering how you were such a dirty girl for wearing these slutty outfits and teasing him.

No one needed to know when he yanked his raging erection out his trunks and began thrusting into you, moaning in your ear about how you were just as tight as the first time he had fucked you, right here on the same yacht, and just like that night he’s going to make you come again now-

And no one needed to know that when you both emerged hastily upto the deck a while later, sitting down next to your respective latest partners but your eyes still fixed on each other, it was his cum that was now covering the inside of your thighs.

Once you had started you both couldn’t stop. Everytime you saw each other things got more and more out of control. A new influencer at Max’s side who was left alone when he fingered you to completion in the dark gardenshed outside a friend’s house party, his other fingers shoved inside your mouth for you to suck on and keep your moans quiet. An ex client of yours left wandering trying to find you, his date at his own charity gala, while you were upstairs riding Max on a plush chaise in the office up, heels still on and silk dress pulled up, making him swear in a way only you could get out of him as you took him in deep. You’d tell him you hated him, that you were only using him to relieve your sexual tension and he meant nothing and he would laugh, whispering in your ear Don’t lie, baby, I know you love this, your sweet pussy just needs my cock inside it, huh?

This went on and on for weeks, a twisted competition where whoever would concede first and drag the other one away was the loser - and you and Max both despised losing. It wasn’t until you were almost caught on camera by paparazzi yet again, this time in the back of his Aston Martin Valkyrie with your head between his legs, deepthroating him messily, using your tongue just the way he liked it- that Max freaked out again and demanded you two break it off at once. You’d rolled your eyes at his melodrama, thinking he was bluffing, but true to his word Max hightailed it out of a room the next few times he saw you, despite your best efforts at picking an outfit you were sure would make him crumble.

Time for you to up the ante, you mused. You weren’t going to stop until you walked away as the winner of this wicked game. You licked his cum off your lips as you devilishly thought up you next plan.

Maybe this time you’d go flirt with one of his handsome driver friends and really piss him off?

—————————————————————————

A/N: love seeing requests you guys send, pls send as many as you want I need inspo!!! Hope you enjoyed this anon lmk what u think, will write Part 2 soon if u keen 🫶 soz I made it too long ahahah had to split it up

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 010 ! you + me = serotonin boost

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

previous <> masterlist <> next

authors note can u tell we’re approaching the end :,( 5 more eps left (+ a bonus chapter i have planned for my bday in 2 weeks🤷‍♀️). i havent been updating lately bc i had a big project for school but its okay bc i finished it!

you almost felt bad for ignoring riki throughout these last few weeks. especially since it wasn’t necessary, considering you had already talked about your feelings and he knew to give you space.

but riki decided it was enough. now that you expressed yourself, he wanted some room to talk about his experience too. or at least, just to hear a little more about yours.

as always, you were rushing off stage after thanking the artist for coming onto the show, just to beat riki to go backstage. but he had caught onto your pattern, catching up sooner than you’d expected.

gently, riki grabbed your arm and dragged you into his dressing room.

when he wasn’t looking, you nearly escaped, but you were barely caught in time. riki pulled you back onto the couch as he stood in front of you, with his hands on his waist.

“y/n.” he sighed. “as much as id love to give you your space, and i don’t mean to push, but don’t you think it’s been too long? i mean, are you okay? are you even taking care of yourself? i just want to know if you’re ready to talk.”

you pouted at his worried expression, watching as he examined your face for any sign of drowsiness or discomfort.

“i’m fine riki. and i’m sorry for ignoring you, i really am,” you reached for his hand, guiding him to sit next to you. “ive just been so overwhelmed with everything going on. and i just needed time away from that, i almost even considered going on hiatus. but i should’ve known better than to hide it from you.”

“my poor y/n. you’ve been through so much. maybe even more than ive had to endure.” he mumbled as he began to carefully play with your hair.

slowly, you reached for his fingers to pull them away from your scalp, before looking into his eyes. riki smiled as he began to lean closer. you were able to feel his breath right against your mouth, before he pressed his lips against yours.

he brought his hand up to hold the back of your neck as you moved to grip his bicep. you could feel riki sigh into the deepened kiss, before pulling away to catch his breath.

riki moved lower to press light kisses from your cheek, down to your neck and right above your collarbone, before leaving one last peck on your lips.

“missed you. good to know you aren’t running away from me again.” he joked.

“oh shut up!” you gently slapped his chest. “glad you aren’t tripping over yourself for my attention. even though you’ve always had it.”

“smooth,” riki laughed. “did you learn from sunghoon?”

“..sure.” you smiled, tilting your head to the side.

you had your riki back, and that was all that mattered. it was over for the mean time. you were just glad you could actually look forward to music bank from now on.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

[myuminji]

Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]

[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.

Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.

Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.

He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.

The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.

Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"

He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"

Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."

Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."

A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."

Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"

Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"

Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."

Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."

He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"

Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"

Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"

Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"

Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"

He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"

Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."

The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."

Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"

Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.

"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]

[link to Image ID reblog post!]

[beat-the-morning]

Depression interrupted || Hozier x reader

Kinktober - Day 6: Interruption

Prompt List

Tags: interruption, spit, mentions of depression, multiple orgasms, long introduction, reader has depression, nipple sucking, hickeys, references to possible suicide, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda because the hurt is like 2 paragraphs and the comfort is the rest of the fic

Summary: You’ve been on a depressive episode for the past couple weeks, and while Andrew had given you the space you requested, his anxiety gets the better of him when you stop answering your phone. So he goes to your apartment and finds a pleasant surprise.

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: this one’s a long one chat idk what to say i got really into it. There’s nothing explicit that isnt the smut itself so don’t worry about it💙

||💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙||

You had been in a slight depressive rut for these past few weeks, you didn’t know why exactly, but two and a half weeks ago you started feeling so incredibly sad that your brain decided it was best if you isolated yourself for a while, you worked from home anyway so it wasn’t like you’d be missing work if you decided to bedrot for a couple days until you felt better. But the “couple days” had now become seventeen days of not leaving the house and doing the bare minimum communication with your friends and family so they’d know you weren’t dead. This trend of lacklustre communication had also extended to your boyfriend, Andrew, who had been worried sick about you since you started answering to his messages less and less and not talking much during your calls.

He’d wanted to come see you sooner, but between making new songs and having meetings for his next album, he had been too busy to do anything that wasn’t working until a couple days ago. You had told him to not worry, that you just needed to be alone for a bit, and he decided to just let you be for a bit, checking in on you at least twice a day, usually more, and feeling his anxiety dissipate when you answered. His brain was divided, he did want you to have your own space and to let you figure this out on your own like you had before, but at the same time he was worried, your depressive episodes had never lasted more than four or five days since you started dating, and he’d always helped you through them, so why were you so distant now? And why for so long? Were you planning something? Andrew felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of you doing anything to hurt yourself, he grabbed his phone and messaged you, an admittedly cheesy message, but it was the only way he had of hiding how incredibly anxious he truly felt.

Andrew:

how are you feeling my love? can we call? id love to hear your voice i miss you so much baby <3] </blockquote>

You didn’t answer, didn’t even read his message, for the next hour Andrew sat on his couch waiting for you to message him or even to leave him on read so he’d know you’re still there. His anxiety created worse and worse scenarios in his head, he knew the most probable reason as to why you hadn’t answered yet was that you were asleep, but the little worm in his head told him a more sinister story, so he called you. You didn’t answer. He tried again. Voicemail. Third time. No answer. He knew that you would still get notifications from him and that your phone would still ring if it was a call from him even when you had it on Do Not Disturb, so why weren’t you answering? He called over and over again for the next hour, by his twenty-third call he was stressed out of his mind, he didn’t know what to do, but the call didn’t go to voicemail this time.

“Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is off or without signal, please try again later.” Said the robotic voice over the phone. That settled it for Andrew, he took his keys and the copy he had of yours “for emergencies” and got in his car with the intention of driving it to your house and checking in on you in person.

While all of this had been happening, you had been sleeping on the couch while your phone was in your bedroom supposedly charging, or it would be if you had remembered to plug it in. You woke up a bit after your phone had, unbeknownst to you, fully ran out of battery. You staggered over to your bedroom once more, your feet dragging along the floor of your small one-bedroom apartment. You threw yourself on your bed, not even bothering to check your phone before curling in on yourself and trying to fall asleep again, tossing and turning in your bed for a couple minutes before you decided to just masturbate to help you fall asleep again. Laying on your back, your hand sauntered downwards on your body, slipping under your pants and underwear and in between your folds, you gasped softly at your own touch, having not done this since your depressive episode took hold. Slowly, you started flicking your clit, you couldn’t be bothered to look for your toy so your hands would have to do. Your free hand moved up under your shirt and to your chest, squeezing your breast though your bra and making you gasp again. Soft, quiet whimpers and moans escaped your lips as you slowly played with yourself.

Andrew was driving to your apartment at a record pace while still being careful enough that he wouldn’t break any laws, finishing what would normally be a 45 minute ride in 35. He parked the closest he could to your building and, as calmly as he could, speed-walked over to your building’s door, opened it, and went inside. He took the elevator to your floor, the fifth, and while it slowly moved, he repeated the same thought in his head over and over, that you were probably just asleep and that he was worrying for nothing, but he needed to make sure you were okay, he needed to see you, even if you hadn’t actually done anything to yourself he still wanted to hold you in his arms until you felt like yourself again. He’d missed you so much in just two weeks and the thought of not being beside you for another second hurt him. The elevator doors opened, he rushed to your door, unlocking it and stepping into your apartment.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined it would be, but he hadn’t seen your room or the kitchen yet, so he knew there would still be some surprises for you two to clean later. He called your name, you didn’t answer, being too focused on your own moans in your bedroom to hear him speak or walk towards your bedroom door. Andrew leaned his ear against the door, hearing soft whimpers coming from inside, he felt his heart relax and break at the same time, his worst nightmare hadn’t come true, but you were, to his knowledge, crying in your bedroom by yourself. He slowly opened the door, his eyes looking for you in the dark space.

“Baby? I’m sorry I came here like this but you weren’t answering and I- oh.” He explained quickly as he slowly pushed the door open, his little apology coming to a halt as he saw you on the bed, your shirt and bra scrunched up over your chest revealing your breasts while your hand squeezed one of them. Your other hand having travelled to your cunt, idly playing with your clit. He felt his anxiety vanish completely, being replaced by insatiable love and lust for you.

You yelped at the sight of Andrew at your bedroom door, your hands stopping their movements and rushing to grab something to cover yourself with like he hadn’t seen you naked a million times over. “Andrew!” You screamed, “what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my messages or my calls and then your phone ran out of battery so I came to see you.” He explained, a small smirk slowly appearing on his face. “Glad to see you’re okay, though.”

“I- I had it charging, did I not plug it in correctly?” You mumbled as you reached over to your nightstand, finally noticing that the charger wasn’t plugged into the wall. You noticed Andrew’s weight shift the mattress, then his arms around your waist pulling you close to him.

“Why didn’t you want to see me, baby?” He asked softly, burying his face in your hair.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you answered, your voice starting to shake as the tears formed in your eyes. “I’m a mess, I don’t want to burden you with my stupid brain.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed lovingly, making you turn around so you were looking at him. “Don’t say that, you could never burden me, ever. I love you, more than anything, and I want to be here for you for anything that you need help with. Especially this, okay?”

You nodded, a few tears leaving your eyes and running down your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he kissed your cheeks a couple times each. “Do you want to talk about something else to get your mind off the sad thoughts? Or do you want to vent for a bit?”

“Something else,” you practically whispered, making Andrew smile.

“Okay, how about we talk about what you were doing just before I came into the room, hm?”

You felt your face heat up as you heard his question. “I- ehm. I was… yeah.” You managed to stutter out.

“Do you want help finishing with it?” He asked, his voice dropping an octave lower.

You nodded meekly, feeling your blood rush to your cunt. He chuckled.

“How do you want the help, my love?” He asked, leaning closer. “Do you want my mouth? My fingers? My cock?”

“Cock.” You answered, your face heating up even more.

“Very well, then.” Andrew smiled lovingly, kissing your lips deeply, his tongue moving against your lips, asking for entrance.

You opened your mouth, he deepened the kiss immediately, you kissed back with just as much passion as him, your fingers tangling in his curls. He pulled back from your lips and started kissing down your jaw and neck, relishing in the sound of your soft moans.

“You smell like coffee,” he pointed out between kisses.

“I spilled some on myself this morning, it was worse before I showered.” You mumbled in response.

“You showered?” He asked.

“Shut up.” You pouted.

“I wasn’t teasing, love. I’m proud of you.” He smiled softly, his eyes looking into yours with nothing but love and understanding. He kissed you again, more gentle this time, then resumed his worshipping of your neck, making his way down to your collarbone. His hands pulled at your shirt, his lips leaving your skin for just long enough that he could take it off you, followed by your bra, leaving you completely topless. He fondled your breasts, pinching your nipples until they were hard and taking one of them into his mouth, sucking and nibbling while his fingers played with your other one.

Gently, you laid down on the bed, Andrew followed behind, trapping you below him. His mouth moved to your other nipple, the coldness of the air hitting your wet peak making you gasp and goosebumps form in your skin. He chuckled, kissing your skin a few more times before pulling back and taking his own sweater and undershirt off. You smiled at the sight of him, he smiled back.

“There’s that smile I missed.” He said in a loving whisper, leaning closer to you when he noticed your hands reaching out to touch him. He hummed softly, closing his eyes for a second to fully focus on the feeling of your hands on him. You caressed his torso, stopping to grasp and squeeze his man boobs and his chubby stomach, making him laugh again. “Always with that.” He teased.

“Let me be, I like it.” You teased back, trying not to giggle.

“Not complaining,” he leaned down to place a peck on your lips with a smile. “Just making an observation.”

“Sure it was.” You giggled softly, Andrew smiled lovingly as he slowly kissed down your body.

“Have you been taking your birth control?” He asked once his hands started pulling down on your pants.

You shook your head, you hadn’t taken it since this episode started. “I don’t have any condoms either…” you added softly.

“Yeah you do,” Andrew argued with a crooked smile, standing up and taking a box of condoms from the drawer on your bedside table.

“I didn’t buy those,” you felt your face heating up again.

“I know, I did,” he chuckled as he started unbuckling his belt, “put them there just in case, too.” He threw the belt off somewhere in your room, taking off his jeans and boxers in one movement, his cock springing free from its confines, already hard and leaking. He took one of the condoms from the box, opening it and rolling it onto his cock.

He positioned himself between your legs, taking your pants and underwear off you as quickly as he could, running his fingers up and down your slit to see how wet you were.

“You’re dripping,” he growled, “all for me?” He added teasingly.

“Yeah,” you moaned softly.

“Did you even come before I interrupted you? Or since we last saw each other at all?” He asked, his voice deep and sultry. You shook your head in response, he chuckled and mockingly pouted, his hands moving your legs apart and positioning his length at your entrance. “Oh, my poor baby, almost three weeks without an orgasm, how did you even manage?”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” you whined needily, “please.”

“Demanding little brat,” he scolded playfully, thrusting himself complaining into your pussy in one single thrust and making you scream in pleasure. You tried to catch your breath, feeling your walls stretch around him in the most pleasurable pain to accommodate to his size. He stood still, buried to the hilt in your heat, drunk on the sound of your quiet gasps. “God, baby, you feel so fucking good, I almost wish I wasn’t wearing a condom right now.” He chuckled softly as he leaned in to kiss you.

You kissed back, moving your hips ever so slightly to silently tell him to start moving. He listened, thrusting languidly in and out of you. “Faster, please,” you mumbled between soft moans.

“How much faster, baby?” He asked, kissing your neck passionately. “Do you want me to ruin you completely? Because I know I want to.”

“Yes, please,” you begged in between breathy moans, “oh my God, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Andrew smiled, biting and sucking softly at your pulse point, leaving a mark for everyone to see. His pace quickened, becoming relentless and unstoppable as your nails left their mark on his back. Your bed shook with the intensity, your moaning resounding against the bedroom walls. He kissed your body in any place where he could reach, enjoying the sound of your cries of pleasure as he lost himself in you.

He grabbed your leg, moving it so your ankle was on his shoulder allowing his cock to hit on the right spot to drive you crazy. He looked at your tits, bouncing as he thrust into you, your face contorted in pleasure. His hand that wasn’t holding your leg moved to squeeze your breast, twisting and pulling your nipple to make you scream like he liked you to. He growled as you moaned louder and louder.

He kissed what he could reach of your leg, wanting desperately to always have his lips somewhere on you. His hand moved from your breast to your lips parting them with his fingers and pushing two of them into your mouth. You sucked out of instinct, eliciting a deep moan from Andrew. His fingers slowly thrusted in and out, muffling your moans, then he pulled them out, holding your mouth open by your chin, he leaned in, his face hovering over yours. He gathered saliva in his mouth, then slightly parted his own lips, letting his spit fall from his mouth to yours, shutting it closed right after. “Swallow it.” He ordered, leaving no room for argument, his relentless thrusts still shaking you and the bed. You obeyed, swallowing it without looking away from his eyes. He opened your mouth again, doing the same thing he just did and spitting into your mouth once more, this time you shut your mouth by yourself and swallowed without him having to tell you. He smiled, caressing your face lovingly. “Good girl, that’s it, you’re so good for me, baby. So fucking perfect.”

You felt the twist of climax forming in your lower tummy, your moans mixing with whimpers. Andrew slightly changed the posture just enough so his pelvis would hit against your clit with every thrust. You felt the coil quickly tightening more and more until it snapped without a warning. You clenched around Andrew’s cock in your orgasmic bliss, your juices spilling out of your cunt around him, making a mess on the bed. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You begged even as your climax washed over you.

“You want another one, baby?” He teased lightly, feeling like he was on cloud nine just from hearing you beg for another orgasm.

“Yeah… please?” You begged desperately. “Please, Andy, I’ll be good, please!”

“You know I can’t say no to you, my perfect angel.”

His hand moved to your clit, flicking it rapidly while his thrusts became irregular and twitchy because of his own oncoming orgasm. You felt your second climax creep up on you again, your legs shaking from the overstimulation and your moans turning completely into whines and whimpers.

“Almost there, baby, come with me, that’s it.” He cooed gently, guiding you towards your next orgasm. “Such a pretty sight, my darling girl, so pretty for me.”

You came at the sound of his voice, clenching around him once more as he buried himself deep in you, stopping his movement and spilling his seed into the condom. You both breathed deeply, trying to catch your respective breaths.

Andrew pulled out of you, letting you lay in bed while he took off his condom and tied a knot on it before throwing it in the trash. He put his boxers back on, sitting back on the bed and caressing your body with love and care. “How are you feeling, love?” He asked softly.

“Good,” you smiled, “better than I have in the past couple weeks.”

“I’m glad,” he kissed your cheek, “go to the bathroom, baby, you know you have to.” He reminded you. You nodded, standing up from the bed and making your way out of the bedroom, stopping at the door when Andrew called your name. “Can you make me some coffee, please? Only if you feel like it, I can make it myself if not.” He asked.

“I’ll make you some, don’t worry about it.” You smiled, leaving the bedroom, closing the door, and walking into the only bathroom in your apartment. You cleaned yourself up, put on new clothes that had been on the folding pile since the week before last, and went into the kitchen to make coffee for Andrew. You heard some noises coming from your room, which you assumed was Andrew trying to find his clothes between all the mess that had accumulated in there for the past two and a half weeks. You finished the coffee after a while, having made it in an Italian coffee press since you knew Andrew didn’t have one but liked how coffee tasted when made in one, poured it in a cup and made your way back to your bedroom. You opened the door to find most of the mess gone, the windows opened and lighting up the room once more.

“What the..?” You mumbled softly, seeing Andrew throw the last of your clothes that had been scattered across the floor into your hamper.

“I know you don’t have the energy to clean right now,” he said softly, taking the coffee from your hands and taking a sip, “so I thought I’d help a bit.”

“You didn’t have to.” You said, feeling tears prickling up in your eyes.

“I wanted to, though,” he assured you, leaving the coffee on your dresser and holding your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes. “I love you, I want to help you. So let me.”

You hugged him tightly, “thank you,” you sobbed lightly, overwhelmed by the amount of love you were getting from him. “I love you too, I love you so much.”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he kissed your head. “Let’s cuddle for a bit, then we can go out somewhere if you want or we can stay here and watch a movie or something, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded into his chest, letting yourself be guided into your bed once more and curling up in his embrace as you laid together, his fingers running along your hair and arms.

[ovaryacted]

what about ID Leon (feel like he’d have been a total fuckboy atp as a sort of phase) but what ab he always comes back to you and after a heated argument he fucks you as he’s pressing your face into the mattress while you're crying and clutching the sheets as you’re begging him to let you finish again 🤭

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | cw: Leon is ooc. Possible toxic relationship.

Ooooooo, you’re cooking here anon. Even though I personally don’t headcanon or view Leon as a fuckboy (because let’s face it, that man is not getting laid for the life of him I mean…), let’s go ahead and say he has an ego and it is reflected in his shitty communication skills (cause of anxiety and trauma womp womp).

-

It was a heated moment where Leon accidentally raised his voice at you, mentioning something about not listening to orders on a mission. It was a close call and you had ventured off without Leon’s support, and he kept calm until you were both back home. It first started as a regular conversation until it deviated from Leon not being able to keep you within arm’s reach, to you being too individualistic. You knew why he did this, he was often too worried for his good and you’d always remind him that you could handle yourself even if he didn’t believe you.

“You have to listen to me when we’re out there. Do you know what could’ve happened or do you just not give a shit?”, Leon huffed out a breath, his arms crossing over his chest and shooting daggers at you.

“Well, I’m not you Leon, not all of us think the way you do. The sooner you accept it the better!”, you grew more defiant, more angry for God knows what. The bitterness you felt from Leon always being gone to never listening to you on missions started to fester out of control.

The argument only got more intense, turning into a yelling match between the both of you. Hurtful words were said, things neither of you meant, and with a cruel “Go fuck yourself Leon”, you watched him walk out the door and slam it behind him.

You pissed him off, he pissed you off, but there was nobody else who understood your relationship the way you both did. This wasn’t the first time you two argued either, often happening after you were both stressed out and didn’t find a proper release for it. You couldn’t blame Leon entirely, always being forced to do the government’s bidding and having limited freedom would put anybody on the verge of a breakdown. Being each other’s vices also didn’t help, so it wasn’t surprising when you found Leon knocking on your front door with furrowed eyebrows close to a day later.

He smelled like whiskey, not too much to the point where it was dizzying, but enough to let you know he was drinking. Leon wasn’t there to talk, you knew that much, stuck in a never-ending cycle of adrenaline and unresolved issues.

That was how you found yourself in this position now, face down ass up on the mattress. The things that happened after you welcomed Leon back into the apartment and closed the door behind him were a blur. You remembered him kissing you hard on the mouth, walking you backward towards the bedroom and yanking on your clothes. He wasn’t gentle, not entirely, but when he pulled you forward by the leg as his mouth gravitated towards your cunt, you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

“Leon…please…”, you could barely speak, barely think, your brain was melting and spilling out of your ears along with the rest of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences and how this might seem. Always fighting with this man just to end up back in bed with him was something you should be embarrassed about. But with the way he was pummeling into you, it was easier to forgive him.

“Just shut up”, he muttered under his breath, fucking into you harshly from behind and focusing on the way your walls pulsed around his cock. He was relentless, moving in an aggressive push-and-pull that hadn’t stopped since he crossed the threshold of your front door. The back of his hand grabbed onto your head, pushing your face against the mattress and making you release a muffled whimper.

You hid your face in the bed, tears slipping down your cheeks and your fingers digging into the sheets. Maybe this was what you deserved, to be tested constantly so Leon could come back home, back to you.

“Quit your fucking whining, I’ll let you cum”, Leon didn’t stop, knowing you were on the verge of cumming all over him for the umpteenth time. No matter how mad he was at you at the moment or how badly you pissed him off, he would let you cum however many times you could.

Sometimes you hated him for it, how he could play your body like a violin and pull every string taut until it snapped. He drained you, he stressed you out, but you still gave yourself willingly every time because that’s what made him stay.

This was how he liked you. Pliant and taking what he had to give. That was all you could do, because no matter what, Leon always came back to you.

[adventuringblind]

Breaking Point

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: angst

Summary: the tragedy and revival of Lando Norris and Max's sister as told by mostly Lestappen

Warning: sexual and physical abuse. Panic attacks, hospitals, injury descriptions

Notes: I'm sorry to the Carlos girlies for my crimes. T_T he was just a good villain for this story, and I feel so bad about it because he's wickedly out of character.

Masterlist

When Max thought about his sister dating a driver, he thought that meant one. No, instead she's dragging Max to talk to her partners. Plural. Meaning: more then one.

It's not that he doesn't like it. It's just a little shocking, is all. He figured her and Lando would get together eventually since they were similar in age. He didn't know that Carlos was also in the picture.

But Carlos is good guy, loyal, a provider like Max himself.

Plus Carlos is Charles' teammate and they get long. Charles tells him all the time that they have a fun working relationship. The same Charles who is ready to murder Jos.

The Monegasque and him had gotten together in 2020 right after they came back from lockdown. They moat certainly did not follow protocols.

Charles has just dragged Max and his sister into the Leclerc family. A place that they feel welcomed and safe.

Needless to say that Charles adopted the protective older brother role over Max's sister. So when he starts noticing things happening around the garage with Carlos, he's immediately on the hunt for what's happening.

The first sign something has gone wrong is halfway through 2021, about six months into the relationship between Max's sister and her two partners. Living in an abusive household has give all the Verstappen children a unique was of sensing when somethings not right. And right now, it's written all over his sisters face as her and Lando are sitting in Max's driver room.

"How come you're here and not with Carlos?" He asked. They shared a wary glance and shrugged.

"Wanted to see you for a while." Was the excuse.

Charles is the next to notice something. A month after the first incident, he runs into the trio arguing around the side of the Ferrari garage. He listens for a while despite him knowing it's wrong, but he can't help it.

"Both of you are idiots! Am I the only one who cares about us?"

"No! It's just-"

"Shut up and leave me. I'll see you both tonight. Be ready for me."

Charles only peaks out from his hiding space after Carlos leaves. He can see the two shaking and reassuring each other.

But arguments happen all the time, right?

Charles and Max keep a closer eye on them after that. Both the younger seem to be isolating themselves and neither if the older is happy with that.

The next incident is one the should've never happened. Max regrets not seeing it sooner. Charles blames himself for nit seeing the signs.

Their off week in Monaco is an enjoyable one. Charles and Max had gone out to a club with his sister and her partners. They were to wrapped up in each other to really pay attention to what else was happening.

Max's phone rings at an ungodly hour. He looks at the caller ID and something twists inside of him.

"Lando? Everythi-"

"Apartment. Need you please."

Lando sounds winded on the other line and panicked. Then the call ends and Max is left in silence.

He thanks the adrenaline for being able to get Charles awake and into the car. It's a painfully slow drive.

The pair gets through the front desk easily and take the stairs two at a time. They stop at the door and Max tries to listen for anything.

Nothing. Silence. An eery quite that is unatraul for the trio.

Max bangs his fist on the door. There is movment from the otherside as a latch is undone.

Carlos stands blocking the door. "Max?"

"Hey, Lando called and said-"

"Lando called?"

Charles and Max share a look. The spainard doesn't seem right. He's out of breath, his clothes are messed up, and his eyes are rapidly scanning around the area behind them.

"Can we come in? Is he okay?" Charles asks, but receives no response. Max takes matters into his own hands. The little patience he has finally vanishing as he pushes past Carlos.

Max starts searching for his sister and the Brit while Charles confines a frantic Carlos to the kitchen. The apartment is wrecked. There is broken class on the floor of the bathroom.

He stops when he gets to the bedroom. The scene before him sends his stomach up his throat. Lando is frantically trying get his sister into clothes. She's unconscious and Lando is wrecked.

"Max!"

The Dutch jumps into action and attempts to asses the situation. It looks like they were probably having sex (as much as he hates to think about it). How had it gone so wrong?

"What do you need?" He'll ask what happened after they get situated.

"She's unconscious and hasn't woken up yet and I don't know what to do." He says it in one breath. Max registers how small he sounds and the tears on the Brits cheeks.

"How did it happen?"

Max tries to remain calm, but it's getting increasingly difficult to do so as Lando is shaking his head no and continues trying to hoist the girl into his arms, but his body isn't cooperating.

Max does it for him and bundles his sister into his arms. Lando nearly falls over just walking and Max has to call Charles for help.

"Lando- I didn't mean to-"

"Stay away, Carlos. You say that everytime but you never mean it."

A pang of guilty realization hits Max. Carlos had done this? But why? What was he trying to acheive?

The Spainard doesn't follow as they leave the building. He doesn't even try to stop them.

They end up in the emergency room. Lando had failed to mention he is also hurt and now is getting stitches down his back and a brace for his knee. Charles stays with Lando while Max sits with his sister. She's awake but unable to use her vocal chords for the next month at least.

Max is taken off guard when she starts frantically crying for Lando. He does his best at soothing her like his mom and Victoria used to do.

It's hours later when they finally get to leave. Charles sets them up in the guest room of the flat then comes and joins Max on the couch in the living area.

"I don't understand what happened in the slightest." Charles tosses his legs over Max's lap.

"I do. I saw what the room looked like. My sister was unconscious and tied to the headboard." Max chokes on the last part. As if growing up with Jos wasn't painful enough. He'd take her with him even before she was an adult. They worked so hard to heal from the horrors of that house.

"Sexual and physical then? Do you think they will tell the FIA? It could get Carlos dismissed from the sport."

Max shakes his head. There are so few people who even know about their upbringing still. Sure, most have an idea, but that doesn't give any details to how bad it had been.

"One day at a time."

~~~~~

Lando is very keen on not letting her get out of bed the next day despite her best efforts. She takes to yelling at him through text to speech to at least sit up so they can process the events.

They don't get that luxury as Max and Charles are dragging them out of bed for breakfast. It looks worse then it really is, in her head. She's dealt with worse. She could handle Carlos and his anger. One which technically hadn't been her fault but she'd rather it be her then Lando who had originally taken the brunt.

They finish eating in silence. She knows Max is going to get his answer eventually, so she nods at Lando to get him to explain. No point in drawing it out.

"Thank you for coming to get us last night." The Brit starts. His hands now becoming the most intresting thing.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?"

"Things were going well for a while. It was nice and we were all happy and in love and Carlos was sweet and caring."

"But?"

"But I'm not the most well behaved person..." There is a red tint on Lando's cheeks. "Carlos had been struggling with Ferrari and needed a reprieve, and we became that for him. It was consensual and stuff, but then it felt distant. He was doing things we hadn't agreed upon and getting progressively angrier. It became something neither of us looked forward to anymore."

She catches the two older boys' looks. Max is furious and Charles looks betrayed, in a way.

"He um-" Lando breaks. His breathing is more labored then before. The female takes his hand in her own and runs her free one down his spine. "-It escalated when he finally lost patience with me. It was really bad. I've never been so scared in my life. I safeworded out but he didn't listen. Then it kept happening. Max- your sister became your stand in."

Well she was hoping he wouldn't tell Max that part. He didn't need to know the details of what Carlos did.

"We tried to ask for help a few times. Jon walked into my room amd saw us frantically covering bruises. Then Carlos got more mad and more possessive."

"The argument outside of Ferrari. Carlos said he didn't want you guys to be exposed. I thought he meant the relationship." Charles' eyes cloud with guilt. The realization hits him harder then he'd like.

"Yesterday when we went out, I knew it was going to be hard. Carlos had been frustrated more often with Max and his own team so she'd gotten the brunt of the hits for the last month. Then this guy tried a move and it was a downward spiral from there." Lando trails off the story with a shrug and reassuring squeeze to her hand.

"What made you call?" Max is very clearly trying to restrain himself.

"He had a look to him like he wasn't even present. I went to get something for him and then called you. She was already unconscious at that point and Carlos was freaking out so he stared throwing things which is how I got the cut on my back."

Max determines that they will be staying with him until further notice. He tells the staff at the front desk to not let Carlos up. They also end up having to block his number due to the sheer number of texts and missed calls.

Daniel ends up finding out because Carlos won't leave the McLaren space alone. The Austrailian becomes more like a guard dog armed with a friendly smile.

Her and Lando already had a strong bond, but sharing such an experience certainly pulls them closer together.

Things get better one pain stakingly day at a time. Aside from their polar opposite responses. Max says he's getting whiplash from it and Daniel says a few times Zak might have a stroke if Lando keeps up like he is.

Lando had become oddly defiant. He already was in certain ways, but now it's just leaking over into his everyday life. Like setting a oundary wasn't enough, being a brat in the bedroom isn't enough, simply saying no isn't an option. Lando is blatantly defiant and struggles to take any kind d of direction.

Versus his female counterpart who is much quieter. She does anything that anybody asks her to do. She rolls over for them. Because it's better to do that then make it worse for herself. A thing she learned from living with Jos.

Where Lando goes looking for attention, she is avoiding it at all costs. Nobody is sure anymore of how to help them and therapy is a slow process.

Charles reminds Max daily. "One step at a time."

~~~~~

Oscar wasn't sure about his rookie season. His entrance into the sport was not the best and he's received so much backlash that he's prepared for copious amounts if hate.

Lando is friendly with him. Certainly doesn't let himself get close, but he's there for emotional support and advice.

They warm up to eachother eventually. Lando even introduces his girlfriend to him and it feels like he's been succesful in creating some kind of trust between them. Not in a 'your my favorite person' kind of way, but a budding friendship at least.

Oscar, who is just trying to get through his rookie season, manages to screw it all up. How, You may ask, did he do this? Simple, he broke the number one rule of falling for his teammate and his girlfriend. They were not supposed to do this to him! How is he supposed to move forward normally when all he wants to do is join their cuddling session in Lando's room?! All they do is comment him and cheer him up and it does something to his brain that he doesn't like.

Well - he does like it and to much at that.

He'd been in enough relashonships over his life to pick out certain things. Namely, who is typically the more do.inate one. Whether that be life decisions or in the bedroom, it really doesn't matter, but Oscar can clearly see neither of them are.

This leaves Oscar with two options. He can leave them alone and pune in silence, or he can ask Max his opinion because the Dutch driver is honest. He chooses the Latter.

Oscar knocks on the door of the room and hears some shuffling. It swings open and it's obvious Max wasn't expecting him. Chest exposed for anyone walking by to see.

"Oscar? If this is about Lando and my sister then you can come in. Otherwise, leave me alone."

"The first one."

Max steps aside and let's Oscar in. He's met with a sprawled out Charles on the bed who is also only in sweats.

"Oscar?"

"Charles?"

"He's here about the children."

"Oh good! Please end my suffering."

Oscar drags out a chair and sits down. His mind is running every possibility of what this means. "How do I end your suffering?"

Max looks him dead in the eye. "They won't shut up about you and I'm tired of them waking me up everytime there is a decision to be made. They need reassuring for everything even if they agree. And I love my sister, but I also love to sleep."

"They talk about me?"

Charles groans in annoyance. "Non stop, mate. It never ends. Oscar this and Oscar that." He mocks.

"But before you do anything you should know that they've been through some shit together. If you hurt them after they've done so much to heal, I will not hesitate to send you into the barrier."

He thanks Max for the... encouragement? Threat? Both? And then leaves. He goes straight for Lando's room at the Hilton next.

He knocks and again gets met with a sleepy Lando. Cmust be something about tonight specifically because Lando only sleep at inconvenient times.

"Oscar! Everything alright? You look like you've run a mile or somwthing."

Oscar fumbles. He forgot how hard feeling can be. Lando let's him in and he almost just breaks. Both of them were probably all comfortable in bed before he ruined it.

"Osc? Seriously mate? If something is wrong you can tell us."

Fuck it, he's already come this far. Might as well throw all caution to the wind.

He smashes his lips down onto Lando's and pulls off. He's going to get addicted if he doesn't pull back now.

There is no response. A shared look between the two and then a smirk from the Brit which throws Oscar off entirely.

"So you think you can handle me then?"

~~~~~

Lando is very please with the way things have turned out. The duo is back to a trio with Oscar now involved.

It's a different dynamic then it was with Carlos. The Austrailian is more gentle then the Spainard ever was.

They haven't told Oscar all of the details yet. Just that he should be wary of Carlos because he can go overboard and get possessive despite them not dating anymore. Lando won't admit it to himself that sometimes he worries Carlos will actually try something that will have long term consequences.

Oscar, for what it's worth, has fended off Carlos on and off track. He's also more perceptive then Lando had initially though. Or he's just really bad at hiding his emotions. He picks up and where not to touch, things that trigger the two, their reactions to certain events. Oscar doesn't pry, but Lando knows he's catching on.

The hardest part to work through had been the sexual aspect. Talking about it only does so much after a certain point. Prior to Oscar, they'd slowly started to do things. They'd done a few joint counseling sessions that helped them talk through a plan and set some boundaries.

The Australian doesn't push to do anything. But finally, they get to a point where they can talk about it with him. The pair is certainly nervous, but he respects them, asks questions, and clarifies his own boundaries. It's such a drastic turn around from what they had before.

Oscar's patience doesn't waiver, and as they build up confidence, he also gets a but more bold. It just - it works. Lando isn't sure exactly to describe it other then he feels safe, loved, and wanted at all times of the day and it's not just from one half of his partners.

Eventually Lando is able to slip back into the, much more defiant, version of himself. It's fun seeing just how long it takes Oscar to break.

The answer: he doesn't.

That much is made apparent when the trio, Max, and Charles go out for dinner and Lando decideds to test the limits.

Admittedly, he probably went to far. But in his defense Oscar was obviously not giving him any attention. He wasn't meaning to do what he did, it was an accident, and he apologized immediately, but Oscar never wavered. Barely batted an eye at him.

He left Lando with a smirk and a 'We'll sort this later.' They did and Lando was sore the next morning.

They fall into a rhythm. Pre-race kisses and post race cuddles.

Then Carlos shows up again.

~~~~~

She could tell by the radio that Oscar was disappointed with his race. His car had taken damage from Carlos and he'd lost position because of it.

He'd been keeping it off track until recently. Now he's getting more aggressive and frankly, it scares her.

Her and Lando are wary as they walk into his room in the McLaren hospitality. They enter without knocking but Oscar is laying on the ground with his arms open.

"I need a hug."

They oblige and fall onto the floor with him.

"Is it bad that I-"

"If you really need it then we can." She giggles, stopping him before he can get in his head to much.

"How'd you know?!"

"Mate, you're laying on the floor and these suits don't hide everything."

It's so different compared to Carlos. Oscar checks in every few minutes. Reminds them they can say no at any point. It's almost therapeutic, in a way.

They are all very naked and vulnerable at the moment. Which is horrible considering the door isn't locked. Which would normally be fine since it's a rule to knock before entering. In this case, however. It's awful because Carlos has just opened the door wide open.

She freezes; suddenly aware of every sound and feeling around her. Lando manhandles her body behind him and pulls something, a small throw blanket, to cover them. She feels guilty for not giving it to Oscar and leaving him to fend for himself.

Lando's breathing is labored. Her throat hurts from the last encounter they had. The memory burned into her. Her voice strains thinking about it as tears well in her eyes.

"You really couldn't knock? You just had towalk in on us to, as if you hadn't done enough already?"

"Glad to see nothings changed. They're still whores and eventually going to play you."

"Haven't done it yet mate. Personally, I think they are very loyal."

Oscar stand and puts his clothes back on. Almost like Carlos isn't even there.

"Also, for the record, if somebody looks at you with the fear they are, you've fucked up badly. Now if you'll excuse me I have two lovers I need to comfort."

Oscar slams the door on Carlos. Then he pulls clothes back onto both of them. More specifically, his clothes.

"Alright, I didn't want to ask before and figured you'd tell me what Carlos did on your own time. We are officially out of time. I promise to sit here and listen and you can take as much time as you need."

And they broke. Huddled all together and spilling every detail of what drove them this far. Oscar listened intently, validated feelings, and didn't judge. He tensed every occasionally at hearing what Carlos did, but aside from that, he tries not to show his anger.

"I'm going to make a call, alright?"

~~~~~

Max is angry. He's seeing Red and it's not just because Charles is two steps in front of him In a Ferrari shirt.

No, he's upset because Oscar called him and said his sister is crying. The Austrailian is going to have a fist to the face when he sees him. Which isn't long because they are outside of the hospitality building.

Max gets a grip of Oscar's shoulders and starts ranting. He's not even aware of half the stuff he's saying. He doesn't snap out of it until he feels Charles tap his shoulder and tell him his sister has been talking to him for the last few minutes.

Max is about to apoligize for misreading the situation. Then Carlos comes into Oscar's line of sight and the Dutch realizes that even he has a breaking point. A snapping point, more like.

Max is instantly grateful he's gripping Oscar's because the Australian is fighting to get a hold of Carlos. The Spainard is spewing vile thing directed at his sister and Lando.

It becomes a fight between Oscar trying to escape while Max and Charles keep him from doing something he can't take back.

"Oscar!" The pair comes to eye level with him. "He's not worth risking your career." He seems to come to his senses and relaxs. Max and Charles both ease away tentatively.

And Max regrets it instantly as Oscar walks right up to him, but lays not a finger on Carlos.

"Honestly Carlos, was it not enough to break them sexually? Physically? You also feel the need to humiliate them? How would the paddock feel if they knew what you truly are?" It's said just loud enough to elicit a few whispers.

Max and his Monegasque partner (who is also mad at Carlos still) bring the trio to their room and make sure they are okay. He hates leaving his sister like this, but he can rest easy knowing she's in good hands.

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"I guess it's the people who are the most patient who snap the hardest, huh?"

And Max couldn't have said it better himself. Maybe it's a good thing he's not patient...

[thatlovinfeelin]

His Wings of Gold | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw |

When Bradley called you and asked if you would come down for his winging ceremony, you couldn’t say no. It was in September, right after the semester started, but you wouldn’t miss it for the world. You couldn’t let Bradley be all alone, not when he didn’t have any other family to be there to support him. So you got on a plane and flew down, just in time for the ceremony. 

Dressed in your casual sunday best, you made your way onto the base, showing your ID at the gate, knowing Bradley had you on the approved list. Your heart pounded in your chest as you drove your rental car. You were nervous, both for Bradley and for yourself to actually be the one to pin the wings on. You didn’t want anything to go wrong, this was his special day. 

He promised to meet you out front of the officer’s club, where the ceremony was being held. You couldn’t wait to see him, it had been months. Both due to your work schedule and his training. You hadn’t had time to fly over and see him, and you hated it. This was one of the longest periods you’d gone without seeing each other since he graduated from college.

You saw him the second you pulled into the parking lot. He had to be sweating in his dress whites, the heat was unnatural for this time of year. He paced back and forth, waiting on you. Your heart broke, you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. 

“Bradley!” You breathed out, running from your car. 

You could see his shoulders relax when he spotted you, steps quickening so he could reach you faster. He reaches for you, wrapping you in his arms, breathing in your scent. He can’t put into words just how much he missed you. 

“Baby,” His voice cracked just enough to let you know he was trying not to cry. 

It broke your heart. You should’ve found a way to come sooner. So you hugged him back as tightly as you could, without getting makeup all over his dress jacket. You wanted him to feel every ounce of love that you had for him. He deserved nothing but love. 

“I’m here, Brad,” You whispered in his ear, “I’m right here.”

“I can’t believe you’re real. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“You aren’t sweetheart,” You told him, pulling back slightly, “You made it. It’s almost over.”

He sighed, and closed his eyes, nodding slightly. You could see the beads of sweat starting to form under his cap. So you nudged him towards the building, “Let’s go get a drink.”

He nodded again and started walking inside, hand guiding you from the small of your back. Inside was a mess of Wingees and other personnel that were here to watch the ceremony. Bradley led you over to the bar and ordered for both of you, two bottles of Bud. 

“I want to introduce you to some of my friends, if that’s okay?” He questioned. 

“Baby, this is your day. You do whatever you want,” You told him sweetly. 

He just smiled and waved over a female with dark hair, “Natasha, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god! It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!” Natasha gushed, reaching over to hug you, “Brad here doesn’t shut up about you!” 

“Oh my god,” You exclaimed, “Me? I’ve heard so much about you! Brad doesn’t stop talking about you!”

The other female blushed slightly and took a sip of her beer, “Only because I’m one of the only ones to put up with his ass.”

“Yeah, thanks Nat,” He groaned, “I think you just like me because of the care packages Y/N’s sent me.”

“Yeah actually, thanks for those,” Nat said, tipping her beer towards you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. You sent Bradley a care package once every two weeks, full of his favorite candy and snacks. Sometimes you added in his favorite movies, just to brighten up his day and remind him to take time away from studying. 

“Glad you enjoyed them too!” You laughed, hugging onto Bradley. 

When the time came for the Ceremony to start, Bradley downed the rest of his beer quickly before leaving you to sit with the rest of the winging class. You took your seat in the audience, leg bouncing as you waited. The whole time you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. You wished his mom was here to see this, you know Carole would’ve been so proud of him. 

“LTJG Bradley Bradshaw, front and center,” The announcer called. 

You took a deep breath and made your way up front. The announcer continued to give a bio on Bradley, including the fact that he would be stationed in North Island for TOPGUN. You took a deep breath and stepped up towards him. They said that you were the one pinning him just as you reached him. 

“Hi baby,” You whispered to him, taking the wings, “I’m so proud of you.”

He smiled big and wide as you gently pushed the golden wings into his uniform. You tried your best to make them straight for him, so he wouldn’t have to fix them later. He held your hand and pulled you close so you could get a picture together. You couldn’t help but smile wide as everyone cheered him on. 

What neither of you knew was Pete “Maverick” Mitchell slipped out of the back door before Bradley, or you, had the chance to see him. But he wasn’t going to miss Bradley getting his wings. Even if the younger pilot was no longer speaking to the older man. But he looked at Bradley as if he was his own son, he couldn’t let this day go by without being there. 

After it was all over you took some more pictures together. You saw the way he looked at you when they awarded the spouses with plaques to thank them for their sacrifice and help they gave to their aviators during training. You could feel the love he had for you. And although you’d never talked about marriage, you knew he was thinking about it. 

“We should do that you know,” he stated a while after once you were back in his little shared house with Natasha. 

“Do what Brad?” You questioned, reaching up to kiss him. 

“Get married.”

“Braddy,” You sighed happily, “You know I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

“So, let’s go do it.”

“Right now?” You questioned.

“Why not? We can treat the after party tonight as our wedding reception,” He half joked, “We can have a big ceremony later for your family.”

“Really?” You questioned, “Don’t you want today to just be about you?” 

“Baby, it’s about us,” He replied, “You helped me earn these. I want to celebrate everything with you. So c’mon. Let’s go down to city hall.”

“Okay, Brad. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s go get married, my love.”

“Wings of gold and a wife, this day can’t get any better,” He smiled so big you swore his face hurt. 

“I love you so much,” You told him, kissing him deeply. 

“I love you even more.”

[jolalibrary]

xi. hold her, and tell her everything's gonna be fine

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eleven of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: sad!reader, talks of jobloss, comforting!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love ✨ wordcount: 3.3k. an: i know, when will jo stop changing the banner, but I love this so much and feel it encompasses everything for these two.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I have one last thing to research and then I’m all yours.

have you eaten

There is a piece of fruit in my hand, as I research.

you said you were gonna order

In my defence, I’m not super hungry.

if I was there id hide your notebook and make you eat tamales my mama taught me to make

Make me, ay?

oh baby normally i would be so down to talk dirty with you and make you blush but only when youve eaten

I really want this job, baby.

i know but i really want you to not be ill

Because you really really really like me?

i heard that in your voice and yes because I really like you

In the last few days, the two of you have managed to complete three crosswords. Something he’s impressed with and you’re disappointed in.

“So, another one—I’m still unsure what this even means.”

Laughing, he hears you crunch another piece of fruit—thankful to hear you eating. “What’s the clue, baby?”

He’ll never tire of it, hearing you call him that. A sweet sound, all wrapped in kindness—floating down the phone line all the way to his ear.

“‘Not a company man’, six letters,” he says, fingers rolling the bridge of his nose.

“Hermit,” you say, calm, casual. “Or, you know, me if I don’t get the job.”

“Baby,” he warns, pen scratching the paper as you try to laugh.

Then you asked to change the conversation. Something he was more than happy to oblige, capping the pen, shoving the book away, leaning on the counter as you tell him about a new recipe you like. Talking fast, busy—almost far too energetic, but he knows why.

It’s all because of today.

The interview—the things he’s heard you jump through hoops for—arriving sooner than he could have relaxed you for.

You’d practised elements of your presentation and called him more than you usually would. Something he liked, enjoyed. The feeling of being needed. That his opinion mattered. It all weaving within him, stitching the parts of him that had weakened since the goodbye, since the drive home—alone and without you.

After a quick text in the morning, Javi had known not to expect to hear from you for a while. Likely not even immediately post your interview, probably needing a coffee—a breather.

If he lived there, where you were, you’d likely need him. Meet him outside, coffee in hand to give to you, a comforting hug, your breath on his neck as you let the tension out.

But he wasn’t there.

And he had thought he might have heard from you an hour later.

let me know how it’s gone baby

Javi tries not to be needy.

A battle he finds easy to lose when it comes to you. Digging his phone out the back pocket of his jeans periodically, ignoring the animals nuzzling their noses at him for food as he checks his battery, texts, calls…

Then the hour bled into two. Your interview was two-hundred and thirty-nine minutes ago, to be precise.

By now, he’s expected to have heard something, anything.

you still want me to call tonight

He tries not to worry. Even as his tasks dwindled, the sun beating down, his stomach growling and sweat building in parts of him that he should shower off.

But a part of him thinks if he goes inside, it’ll layer on top of him: the loneliness. The thing he feels, but pretends isn’t there.

Because normally, he’d have heard from you at lunch—if not more frequently throughout your day. The silence expected, very out of character. Which turns some cogs in him that twist and tighten, forcing his throat to burn and his stomach to flutter with a nervousness he can’t explain, except that:

Javi wants you.

Not just in the sense that he wants to run his fingers up and down your side, to crush his lips over yours, to bury himself inside of you as he feels himself falling, freely, and happily. But more that he wants to wake next to you, see you smile and laugh amongst the field, show you the water’s edge—feel some contentment there rather than boiling anger at the boats.

You could wear your jacket as the weather cools, and spread your warmth from the photo strip to the rest of the ranch.

youre doing that thing where you make me worry, baby

Eventually, after much internal fighting, he heads in and showers.

Hands washing the day as he hopes the water will take away his worries too. Pressing his palm flat to the tiles, he allows the water to beat down on him—eyes occasionally glancing to the phone on the windowsill, willing it to light up.

He suspects it’s why he stays in a bit longer.

Allows the soap suds to have long since vanished down the plug hole, letting the water begin to go cold as he uses all of the water up.

It’s only when he’s dried off, thrown some comfier clothes on—sunk into his usual chair, does he rotate the phone in his hand. His fingers slid along the underside of his chin, eyes fixated on a photo of him and his parents—their faces beaming, smiling, his hands in theirs.

even got me using punctuation and everything

Please, he whispers.

To no one. Not his Pop in the next room, some show bleeding into the air. Just to himself, as he works the spot on his forehead.

You don’t text him back, but you do call bang on time.

He’s spent the last half an hour pretending he wasn’t loitering, while his pop pretended he wasn’t coming in to make drinks to check on him. Giving him that look, the one Javi had seen so often when he’d first come back from Cali.

All concern, all deep lines embedded with worries as he ticks, tick, ticked.

This was different. Something in his gut telling him that you weren’t okay, a need inside of him to get to you—pack a bag, head to the airport and hope there was a flight or something.

He only hadn’t because a part of him, small—but loud—hummed that it could be him. He could be the reason, the cause. It all too good to be true. His fingers pressing keys to read back his texts, see if he can find the cause—the moment it all began to spoil and undo.

The last hour of investigation led him to nothing. Irritation threading into his muscles until he heard the phone ring—loud, punching holes with its noise into his unravelling.

Smirking, he wipes his hands on his jeans, cocking his head around the doorway—checking for the flickering television and no lurking pop, before he unhooks the ringing phone from its place.

“Took you long enough, was about to ring you and ruin—”

“J—Javi?”

Sniffle. A sob. The beginnings of you splitting in two.

That’s what he hears—clear as anything. It cuts straight through his attempt at teasing and slices through him as though the sound was laced with the edge of a knife.

It’s instant, barely explainable, the way his stomach falls to his feet. His smile vanishes, stolen and robbed, as another sob expands in the space of your two’s silence, making his throat dry, and the phone crunches a little under his grip.

“Baby. Talk to me, what’s happened?”

You swallow, all thick, as though it's a struggle. “I… I—I didn’t g-get the job-b.”

Slowly, his eyes close. Hearing you cry again, louder, less restrained and more freely, them rolling and rolling from you like a wave. The depth of it travels freely down the phone, in the same way, he usually craves when it’s your voice, noise, or presence.

“I’m… cariño, I’m so—”

“—I’m s-sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry…”

Frowning, he slides the fingers down his nose as you continue to apologise—them merging with your hiccups and tears.

“Cariño, wait. Stop.”

And you do. Your sniffles all of a sudden ceasing, more restrained—practically swallowing another one back. Trying to keep it on your tongue, rather than let it escape.

“Why are you apologising to me?”

You’re quiet for a moment, a second. Then you seem to let out a strange noise, before clearing your throat. “The job… I… we’d have been seeing each other more, and I’ve ruined it—I ruined-d it all.”

Frowning, he opens his mouth. Confusion there, all evident and brimming. Because he hasn’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about. His brain runs, dashing through the notes it’s been making, the snippets here and there you’d spill about your day and your work.

“It was-s in Houston. I’d have been able t-to move. We’d have been c-closer.”

And then it lands.

The realisation. What it would have meant.

It appears in front of him before it slams straight into him. Forced his head to drop, sight lowering to a mark on the wall as his chest tightens. His eyes fixated, unable to tear his eye from the stain on the off-yellow wall—one likely made from him sitting on a stool or chair, maybe even his knee when he’s stretched, when minutes have quickly tumbled into an hour.

Even if he’s reeling, your ramblings have continued. They’re all in various pitches, spluttered and painted in painful cries and strangled sniffs.

“—I—I didn’t want to tell you at first, in case we didn’t, you know, get on.” You continue, some words slamming into the next as you try to level out your cries. “Then I didn’t want to tell you in case you got excited, and I fucked it up—and I did, didn’t I? I fucked it up. And now we won’t live closer, and—“

“Baby—“

But you’re tumbling, rolling right off the emotional cliff you’d been on the edge of. Thick, horrid sobs that shake his foundation and dart cracks through all of him continue to travel from you.

And it hurts. Makes him feel both horrid and weak—helpless. Unsure what he can say, do.

So he offers, “They’ll be other jobs.”

And as soon as it unfurls from his tongue, he wants to drag it back. Swallow each syllable, and letter, and never let you hear them again.

Because he’s sure you cry harder, louder. Even if it appears like you pull the phone away so he can’t hear how deep they go.

And you keep trying to spill out his name, a sentence here and there, trying to form as he pushes the phone against his ear, palm flattening against the wall—balling his fingers up—

“There won’t be…”

Sighing, he lets you take a breath. “Baby, of course, there will be. You’re good, I can tell, alright? And you’re brilliant and just cause those fuckin’ idiots can’t see—“

“I quit, Javi.”

The words he’d been about to say, fizz out on his tongue, die, fade. And it seems to only make you cry harder. His mind trying to catch up, to follow on with what is happening as you explain, in broken sobs, how your entire life seems to crumble apart all around you.

“I… I couldn’t take it. The reason, the explanation. How they gave it to the new guy, the one who doesn’t even know how Houston operates—and I just saw red, Javi. And I quit. Me? I… I just packed my desk up, left….”

He bites the inside of his cheek, listening as you take a breath—it sounds so much like defeat has replaced your sorrow.

“Then I just wandered. A box under my arm… and… I wanted to reply, but I didn’t know where to start. Like, ‘I miss you so much, but by the way, I didn’t get that promotion, and I snapped because they treat me like shit, so I quit. That my best friend is so excited because they’re paying for her to move this month for her new job, and my lease on my apartment is coming up’ and…”

“And what?”

It’s your turn to sigh, it more shaky and still embezzled with sniffles—fluttering down to his ear. “And…” you pause, his pulse suddenly quickening, waiting, mouth opening and then closing. “And, the person who would make me feel better isn’t even in the same State as me—because, I know this sounds crazy, but as soon as I heard why I didn’t get that job, all I wanted… well, all I wanted was you.”

Me?

His lips curl, sliding up into his cheek. His eyes look up, dancing around the marks on the wall as he straightens his spine, and swallows back whatever lump had been forming.

“I just…” you continue, “wanted to be back in that hotel room. Curled up in your arms.”

“You….” Clearing his throat, he tries again. “You know how we could solve that? You could come here—clear your head… just for a minute. Get all the hugs you want.”

You let out a noise, low, shifting it from it to a breath in record time. “Well, I wouldn’t be much fun. I’d just spend it in your bed.”

“That doesn’t sound all that bad, baby.”

“Sleeping and crying, do it for you, charmer?”

He grins, before rolling his lips. “Not if it’s not from how good I make you feel, no. But. I just—want you to have options.”

You go silent, far too quiet for his liking, until he hears the sound of movement, shuffling. His ears honing in, trying to work out what it is you’re doing, could be doing.

“What am I actually gonna do, Javi?”

Fuck. It suddenly dawning on him how unequipped he is for this. For comfort—for being there for another person. He barely looked after himself before, never mind since he came home. He hasn’t got a fucking clue what to say to even begin to make someone feel better, never mind someone who means as much to him as you.

“I… I quit my job. Without even finding another one—that’s… that’s crazy, insane—I don’t do these things and-and—“

Rolling his head on his neck, he ran a hand over his face. Trying to buy a second or two, digging deep for an answer—something comforting that would help.

“You, baby, are gonna get some sleep, and tomorrow we’re gonna sort it.”

He hears you swallow. Loud, followed shortly after by a sigh.

“We?”

You say it quietly, full of disbelief.

Because only you still wouldn’t realise how deep he is in with you. If he could, if he could risk hijacking the moment to explain, he’d tell you how worried he’s been, how he’s been obsessively checking and clicking, to the point he’s pretty sure he’s taken some life of his phone battery for it.

Swallowing, he bites his lip, nodding to himself. “It’s you and me, ain’t it, cariño? You’re not… you don’t have to figure this out alone, is all I mean.”

It’s soft—the way you reply, okay. Delicate. He’s hopeful it’s accompanied by a smile, one with a nose scrunch.

“Javi?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Can you… can you stay on the phone with me?”

Pulling a stool over, he sits himself down on it. The ache in his chest widened, a lump in his throat forming. “Sure, baby. You want me to talk about anything in particular?”

“Not sure…”

“What would you do if I was there?”

He swears he hears you smirk.

“I would cook you almond saffron chicken.”

Shifting on the stool, he adjusts the phone in his hand. “Yeah? How come?”

“It’s the first dish Aish taught me to make, and I think you’d like it. And, I’m quite hungry, I… I didn’t really feel up to food before. But maybe, y’know, if I came to see you, had the chance to cook, maybe over a long weekend?”

Smirking, he lets out a content breath. “I like the sound of it already…”

“Because of me cooking in your kitchen?”

Laughing, he rolls his lips. “No, because it would mean you were here, cariño.

Morning baby, hope the cows aren’t trying to eat your shirt.

morning hermosa why are you up so early

Well, I thought of having a lie in but decided to grab a coffee, print off some CVs and not look as desperate as I feel.

if it makes you feel better im pretty sure my pop would hire you in a heartbeat

Bet I’d look real good in dungarees.

fuck baby

Could even wear your shirt, tie it so it’s a crop.

youre killing me

I’ll leave you with that, I have a list of places to beg to give me a chance.

wouldnt need to beg me

Stop, baby. Save it for later.

He’d barely dried himself off before your text came through.

Javi had found that the one upside to you being unemployed was the amount of time you had to reply or call—something he wasn’t complaining about in the slightest.

In a way (a small, acceptable way), it felt like a taste of what it would be like if the two of you lived closer. If there weren’t towns, cities and states between the two of you. If you lived close by, or better yet, on the ranch with him.

Across the last few days, while you’d seemed upbeat through text—just as you were when the two of you were in Houston—he quickly realised how much of a mask that was when he had you on the phone.

If not for the fact that when you ended the call, you seemed more yourself than when it started, Javi would have already begged someone from a ranch or two over to help, and book a flight out to surprise you.

“Hello, charmer.”

Grinning, he runs his hand over his chin. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

“Well, I have good news.”

“What’s that then?”

“Remember when I said I had to meet with someone in Houston, from imports? Well, apparently, they’ve been trying to get hold of me at work—one of the few nice people there let me know, even passed my details on.”

It begins—right in his stomach. A nervousness, a bubble—it rising and rising, sliding into his heart as it makes it beat just that much quicker.

“He wants to meet with me… apparently, I impressed him?”

“That’s—fuck, that’s amazing, baby.”

Javi can almost hear your grin as you laugh—can even picture you hiding your face in your hand at his happiness.

“Yeah,” you say, more in a sigh than anything else. “It’s obviously just an interview—maybe even a chat, but it’s something.”

Tracing the back of the phone with his finger, he runs his fingers up his neck, up his chin—

Pulse thumping in his neck. “I could… Could always drive up, see you after?”

“Oh… um?”

Oh? He thinks. The noise suddenly on repeat. It’s all he can hear—that little surprised noise rips from your throat and punctures his ear. His own fingers scratching at his cheek.

And then you clear your throat, and he grits his jaw. “Well, if you wanted, once I’ve had my meeting with him, I was going to ask if I could come to Laredo, see the ranch… and you?”

Just as quickly as it came, the earlier shame from your ‘oh’ vanishes. It bursts, erupts into a thousand pieces of nothing as the edges of his lips begin to curl up.

“For a second, didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

You don’t laugh, don’t ridicule his confession, and if you were here, he’d imagine you’d have tilted your head in that way you do.

“Javi, of course, I want to see you. I…” you take a long pause as though battling with yourself. “Baby, I’ve been trying to find my way back to you since the moment I left you. There’s nothing I want more than to see you. I promise.”

His shoulders descend from his ears, a smile spreading across his face so large—he’s not sure anything could take it. Something inside of him shifted, sliding back together.

“So, do you mind if I come to see you on your ranch? Bother your animals, let me admire your fence work?”

If he hadn’t been sure before, he’s sure now he would have kissed you. Grip you by your cheeks and crash his mouth to yours, stealing that question mark from the air and using his lips to remind you that with him, you never need it.

But, since he can’t, he finds words. One’s that are more eloquent than ‘fuck, yes’, but are close in family to it.

Because, of course, he wants to see you. He never wanted to let you go in the first place.

an: we have next weeks and then an epilogue, and LNT 'main story' will be done. honestly, thank you for all the love as we've gone on this journey. i never expected this for one second, and i'm so emotional right now at how well loved/supported this story has been. i'm gonna miss it, so much.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hello there!! It’s 🦐 anon back at it again and I have another request if that’s okay.

I don’t know what character limit is the max, but could I have some headcanons for when Jeff, Toby and ben have a crush obsession on someone (reader) , but they discover they’re already dating someone else? What would they do? (Seperately)

If you can’t do 3, only doing Jeff and ben is fine! Just thought of this idea and you’re one of my favourite writers that’s active in here, so I came to you!! Have fun if you end up writing this. Have a lovely day.

-🦐

It's always ok to ask for stuff! And don't worry about character limit because i think the absolute most id be willing to do is maybe 10 per ask

Also it makes me smile to see that im one of someone's favorite writers 💞💞

Tw: stalking and obsessive behavior

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeff

Jeff doesn't really like people all that much

And as we know, he is very self absorbed

So if he actually finds himself enjoying you, let alone loving you, he assumes that you should automatically love him as well

He spends every second he can watching you through your windows, learning your schedule, all of your favorite things, etc, etc

And eventually, he builds up enough courage to sneak into your house while you are away

He smells your clothes, cherishing the heavenly scent

He steals one of your t-shirts and steals your toothbrush (definetly not to brush his own teeth with)

He snags your perfume/cologne as well, so that he can always smell like you

And with all of his treasures in his pockets, he sneaks back out

He continues this cycle for weeks until one day, you bring someone else home with you

"One of their friends" he tells himself, jealousy already boiling in his heart

But when he sees you look up at them with your gorgeous eyes, and sees you kiss them, he snaps

He is seeing red as he breaks through the window, killing your partner in cold blood

He feels betrayed, how could you do something like this to him?

He ends up knocking you out, and bringing you back to his home, where he ties you to his bed and waits for you to wake up

Because you have got some major explaining to do...

Toby

Toby finds himself feeling like a lost puppy around you

He loves you, oh lord he loves you

But he can't have you know that yet

If you were to see him, see the things he's done, that'd scare you off for sure

And so he watches you from afar

He watches you when you go to work, he watches you as you head home, he sits closely by you when you're at a resteraunt

He doesn't ever allow himself to break into your home (unlike SOMEONE on this list 😒)

But if you ever drop something, say, a piece of trash, or maybe something falls out of your pocket, he swarms all over that

He has a special little drawer in his nightstand full of all of the things he's collected from you

But lately, he's been noticing a...shift...in your schedule

Meeting the same person over and over again, until one day, his worst fears are confirmed

As you make your plans with them, you share a sweet kiss and walk away, holding hands as you do so

This breaks him

He can feel his heart aching, as he knows that he's lost you

He blames it on himself "if I had just talked to them sooner"

He can't bring himself to hurt them, though

And, they can't be all that bad if they make you happy

And so, he allows this person to keep dating you, continuing to stalk you from the shadows, waiting for the day that you leave them, and his chance will be presented again

BEN

Ben has a....knack, for finding people

It's almost like scrolling through the front page of social media to him

Scrolling past an endless sea of countless faces, watching videos, playing games, streaming, etc

But one day, he found you

Your gorgeous face entranced him almost immediately

And by the end of the first five minutes of just staring at you, he knew that he needed you

He comes back to you, day after day, saving all that you watch in his own personal playlist

If you like video games, he will know, and he will send you all of the games you could ever want

You don't know where they're coming from, but you aren't complaining

He occassionally peers through your electronics cameras, and just watches you sleep

You look so nice and cozy, he wishes he could be there with you, holding you, keeping you safe

And one day, he notices a new person coming into the picture

A....romantic interest of yours

He can't have that.

And so he hacks them. He leaks their adress, he posts life ruining things on their socials, even going as far as to make them think that you are doing these things, making them hate you and putting more and more strain on your relationship

Eventually, you break up, unknowing that BEN was behind it all

And he's been sending you love messages along the way

Little gifts he knows youd like too

And now he can make himself known to you, as an angel, a savior, rather than the monster that had ruined your relationship with your partner

[judeswhore]

I'm always so fucking rude and mean before my period and Imagine jude at the beginning of your relationship just so baffled by your behaviour like he honestly has no idea what's going on with you but alrer on he's just like aah yes miss period is arriving and he knows how to deal with your attitude

u don’t even mean to be snappy or rude with him but u can’t help it and u always feel awful afterwards bc he’s never anything but lovely to u but ur relationship is still so new and ur still a little to nervous/shy to actually discuss ur period with him so he’s just left so confused for the first few months. like you’ll snap at him for the smallest of things and he’s so??? or you’ll randomly start an argument with his over something stupid and more than once you’ve flat out just refused to speak to him and he ends up talking to his mam abt it and ofc she’s immediately linking it to ur period especially when he tells her it only happens at a certain time of the month and then he feels a little ridiculous for not realising sooner. but then he talks abt it with u and he’s all “y’can be as mean as u want to me but at least give me some tips for what’ll help make u feel better” so ur telling him that u crave a certain food or that u just like to be left alone or u want him to help ease ur cramps but u never know how to ask for that help. so when ur period comes around next and u start getting a little moody with him he immediately knows how to deal with u and how to make u feel just that little bit better and whenever u try and start an argument or say something rude he’ll just give u a little look and be all “take five minutes” and then a few days later or wtv when u try and apologise he’ll just brush u off bc “if i was bleeding all day id be a cow as well” and it somehow always makes u feel a little better

[mustainegf]

PLEASE MAKE THE ‘walk me home’ ONE A SERIES OH MY GOD

GLADLY!!!! THIS SERIES IS SO CUTE SO FAR

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐓𝟐 ¹⁹⁷⁹

— 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

The next day, I sat in the classroom, all mushy inside from daydreaming of her. My mind strayed often to yesterday's conversation and how it ended, promising another glimpse of her. Id been constantly checking the clock for time to pass by.

Then, out of nowhere, there was this shadow over the top of my desk. I looked up and saw a familiar face one of the football jocks, Brad, notorious for making life miserable for guys like me.

"Hey, freak," he snarled, his tone oozing with disdain. "Saw you with your pretty little friend yesterday." He paused for just a moment before grinning. “You realize it’s a charity case? She’s j only hanging out with a loser like you out of pity.”

I felt a lump come into my throat, but I tried to act cool. "I don't see why that's any of your business," I said, trying to sound braver than what I was feeling.

Brad screwed up his face in a sneer. "Stay away from her," he threatened, right in my face. "She shouldn't be hanging out with someone like you, you're nothing but a loser. Just a pussy whose mommy won’t even let him go to health class." He laughed evilly, knowing he’d hit me where it hurt.

Before I could even open my mouth, he slammed into my desk and knocked down all my books. Some kids in the class giggled, and I felt my cheeks flush.

Brad gave me one more scowl before sauntering off with a tail of laughter behind him.

I sat there a second, my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to crawl under my desk and disappear. Then I thought about her, and the way her eyes lighted up while talking about music. I wasn't going to let Brad, or anyone else, ruin that beauty.

I picked up my books, lining them front faced on the desk, trying not to let his antics get under my skin. Perhaps to him, I was a freak, but she thought me someone worth speaking to, and that was all that mattered, at least to me. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, even if I was just a loser.

Once the bell rang, I rushed out of class. I had this feeling of eagerness to see her again, to hear her voice. I sped down the hallway, and here she came out by the lockers, lightening up at just the sight of me.

"James!" she said before waving me over.

"Hey," I replied, my heart still light at the fact that it was really her standing right in front of me. "Ready for class?"

"Yeah," she replied, then fell into step beside me. "By the way, I was thinking, maybe we could hang out after school again? There's this cool new record store I want to check out."

I beamed, feeling Brad's threats slide off my shoulders. "I'd love that," I told her.

In could hardly believe it, she wanted to hang out with me, and go to a record store? Was this like a date? Or just a hangout, or-

I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m excited nonetheless.

We walked to class together, and I felt maybe for the first time that things were finally changing. I wasn't just a faceless kid in the crowd anymore. I was James, and she liked me for me. At least I hoped.

We left school together and walked down the street, her excitement was contagious. She slipped along and took me to the record store that just opened, and no sooner had we parted the curtains when the vinyl smell and rows upon rows of albums hit me.

It was like paradise in here.

I beelined for the rock and metal section, my fingers just about itching to turn through the records. She came with me, her curiosity apparently piqued.

As I was going through some of the titles, I pulled out a copy of Led Zeppelin's "Houses of the Holy" and held it up to get a better look at it.

"This one is so good," I said, building up in excitement. "Have you heard 'No Quarter'? It is one of their best songs."

She nodded, a small smile working its way onto her face. "Yeah, my brother plays it all the time."

We kept flipping through the records, each one leading us to a different conversation. I pulled out a copy of Judas Priest's "Hell Bent for Leather" and held it up to show her. "These guys are fucking awesome."

She bent lower, scrutinizing the cover. "I've heard of priest, but I don't have much of their stuff. What's your favorite song?"

"Definitely the title track" I said, getting increasingly excited by the second to be starting all these things with her. "It's just energy from start to finish."

We laughed, smiled, wandered around the store, asked about new bands. J finally had someone to talk to about this stuff, and she just happened to also be gorgeous.

She had the sudden inhalation of air and yanked out a record from her knackering through the shelf. "Oh my God, I've been looking for this forever!" She held aloft a copy of Black Sabbaths "Paranoid" with the most shocked and excited face I’d ever seen. "I've always wanted this album!”

I could see she was highly elated, and then it faltered just by looking at the price tag. "I don't have enough money for it," she said, tinged with disappointment.

I checked my own wallet, but I knew I didn't have enough money.

Suddenly, it came to my mind that at home I had a copy of "Paranoid." Nothing was said just yet, but I started to form a plan.

We continued to browse the store, but I could tell she was still thinking about that Black Sabbath record.

As we were walking out of the store, heads stuffed with the high of music, I couldn't Shake the thought from my mind about how I could get her that album. Maybe I could surprise her with the record or something.

"Thanks for coming with me today," she said as we walked back to her house. "I had a lot of fun, even if I couldn't get that record." She laughed nervously, eyes flicking to mine.

"Me too," I smiled with a nod as my mind raced with all the possibilities. "Maybe we could do it again sometime? I could uh… I could walk you home again tomorrow.."

"I'd like that," she said, her smile returning. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I echoed, feeling something new inside me, something warm.

I couldn't take the smile off my face as I walked home. I knew exactly what I was going to do. That record she wanted so badly? It was all hers. Well, I had to hand it to her, I just couldn't wait until I saw the look on her face when I gave it to her.

—➤ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

[vettelsdarling]

Ive seen alot of quote requests and I rly want a Leclerc x fem reader smut where they start out as enemies (example is like Ferrari and Mercedes or Ferrari and Redbull) pls and include these two quotes

“Youre so full of shit Ferrari boy”

“but you keep coming back”

Id be rly grateful if u could write this haha

Touch my rear wing, I dare you

➪I like the idea! Hope you enjoy what I came up with :)

➪(I’m assuming you mean Charles and not Arthur btw)

➪Also, this both follows and doesn't really follow a specific timeline. I’m just using my creative freedom for this. Some people are cut out of the story because of the reader insert!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Driver!Reader

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (both receiving), swearing

Word count: 5.6k+

Backstory

You had always loved racing. Your father was a retired Formula 1 driver and had always taught you and your brother the basics of it. You used to go watch him speed around for Ferrari, which shaped your dream to become just like him. Your brother and yourself were both determined to make it as great drivers. Your mother was a stay-at-home mom with a lot of time on her hands. Therefore, convincing her to take you and your brother karting was no big feat. Especially seeing as your father was a driver himself.

You rose through the ranks faster than your brother, despite having started later than him. Your mother was hesitant to let you race at first, but eventually allowed it. You were called a star and a prodigy. Seeing as you were the only girl there, it made sense. Especially because you hit every apex just right and your overtakes were near-perfect every time.

After karting, you moved further up the ranks, eventually being crowned regional champion in Formula 3 (regional) and moving on to Formula 3.

It was there you met him; Charles Leclerc. He was the only one who seemed to be faster than you. Not only that but the idea of it had gotten to his head. You never actually spoke to him, but you'd see a smirk creep up on his face once in a while after beating you. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with the sole of your shoe. You weren't superstitious, but there was sure to be karma coming his way sooner or later.

Luckily that karma came in the form of one George Russel and one Alex Albon. The two of them were just as competitive as you and Charles, eventually making the four of you gain a lot of attraction in the media. You were great friends with George. He always showed a tremendous amount of sportsmanship towards you. One time, he even helped you by letting you pass him, having you win the race. All the whilst Charles was left in the dust. You relished in it.

When Formula 2 came around, you were stuck, yet again, with Charles. That was also when you had your first real interaction. He went up to you before the last race and struck up a rather puzzling conversation. Puzzling in the sense that you had no idea why he was talking to you, or why he even wanted to.

“Hey, you're not a bad driver, but I would suggest you try to maybe stop sulking. People notice.” Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.

“Maybe you should check up on that girlfriend of yours. I don't think she's into assholes. Maybe stop being one.” Even though you were in your own garage, you walked away. You couldn't stand being in his presence for a moment longer.

You were unlucky because Charles beat you and moved on to Formula 1 before you. You and he had been tied for the championship, but somehow he found his way around to beat you. It was then you realized you had to do something— anything to get into Formula 1.

Your luck seemed to only build after Charles left Formula 2, and you easily won the following championship, signing a deal with Alfa Romeo, which, to your surprise, was the worst thing to ever happen to you.

You'd somehow managed to place yourself in the same team as Charles, making him the only thing you couldn't destroy on the grid. You had to be a fair teammate to even be considered by your dream team, Red Bull. You'd seen Sebastian Vettel in his glory days, and you wanted the same for yourself. However, being in Formula 1 proved to be much harder than 2. You didn't really know what you had expected, because so many stars were competing for the championship.

It wasn't all that bad, though, because he never really said much and the two of you were somehow able to make it work. It was mainly due to the pressure of having to look good. You knew about the media and their swirling rumours. Many speculated that you were Charles’ side piece. It didn't matter to you, as long as you knew just how far from the truth that was.

After the 2018 season, you somehow managed to sign yourself with Red Bull for 2019, driving alongside Max Verstappen. He went on to become your best friend on the grid, as nobody really liked Red Bull and you had to stick together. Sebastian Vettel became a “father figure”, following the death of your father earlier in 2018. It hit you harder than any barrier had ever hit you, but you were able to get through it with the help of Vettel.

It was in 2019, that you finally started rising to the top and watching Charles start to lag behind. The feeling of watching him struggle was like a euphoric punch. Nothing made you happier. You and Max were a powerhouse of a team. He helped you, you helped him. He was more than happy with it, and so were you.

Everything led up to the 2022 season, where you started casually hooking up with none other than Charles Leclerc. It started at a party that Lando threw after the 2021 season had ended.

-Flashback-

You were dancing out on the floor. Your dress barely covered your assets and you'd had more shots than you could count on your fingers. Completely wasted. That's what you were. What made matters worse was that you continued to do increasingly risky things like doing a handstand, which almost made your dress pull down with gravity. Everyone seemed to cheer you on, as they were just as drunk as you, if not more. Well, all but one. Charles lurked in the corner of the room. He didn't drink. You weren't sure why, nor did you care. But his eyes had been on you all night. The increasingly provocative behaviours you exhibited fueled something carnal within himself. Something he wasn't so sure he could control. He hated you, but at the same time… he hated the thought of someone getting their hands on you. He couldn't understand his line of reasoning. He didn't even think he had one.

The line was crossed when you came down to do a split on the floor, which ripped your dress; putting your panties on full display. Nobody but Charles paid attention to the severity of the move, so he pushed through the crowd and picked you up like you were nothing. He wasn't in control anymore. His brain had just switched to auto-pilot. Nobody realized he took you. Nobody realized the two of you were gone.

The next morning, you found yourself in a fluffy white bed, which horrified you. Your sheets were deep green and silk. Nothing like the bed you were lying in. On top of that, your clothes were gone and you were lying in your underwear. Groggy, you pulled yourself up and realized you were alone. Next to you was a bedtable with a glass of orange juice with a pill next to it. There was a card too and it was addressed to you.

“I bet you had a nice time last night. I had to leave early for a meeting, but I left you some things for your hangover. Call me if you need anything and leave whenever you want to.

– Charles”

You were beyond shocked. You were at a loss for words. Had you really slept with Charles? Charles Leclerc? The one person you hated on the grid? You could barely believe the two of you had a friendly interaction, let alone slept together. You quickly chugged the juice with the pill and got out of bed. You couldn't find your dress anywhere, so you decided to go find Charles’ closet. Everything was too big for you, but after some digging, you found a shirt and a pair of pants that you were able to adjust to your own size. You didn't care about your messy hair. You just had to get out of that house. When trying to remember what had happened the night before, you only added to the already existing headache. The conclusion then was; you slept with Charles after getting drunk and you would never ever tell a soul or do it again.

You debated whether to ask Max to come and get you, or call an Uber. You knew Max would pick you up and not ask questions… well if it didn’t involve Charles. You ended up paying for an Uber to not let the secret spill. Max was a trusted friend but you didn’t even want him to know. Vettel would likely just give you any advice a dad usually would, which was why you decided not to bother him either. Besides, everyone would probably be too hungover to care about anyone and anything but their bowel movements.

“Miss, where to?” Asked the driver. You told him the address and he started driving. Unlike other Ubers you’d taken before, this guy was chatty. He told you about his dog, a golden retriever that he named Lila. He talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had to be careful not to accidentally tune his talking out like white noise.

After a while, you were finally dropped off and you were left alone to soak in the painful false memory of sleeping with Charles.

- End of flashback-

*Still not present. First race of the 2022 season

You walked around your car, gliding your hand around it, feeling the smooth metal against your gloves. That’s when your peace was disturbed by a voice you hated all too much.

“Are you ready for 22?” You turned your head to see Charles with a smug look on his face. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the day you walked out of his apartment. It was simply too embarrassing for you.

“Don’t talk to me. Go bother someone else,” you huffed. Max was talking to Horner in the back of the garage. You had nobody to save you from having to talk to Charles.

“After the night we had? I don’t think so,” he said whilst walking closer and almost touching your rear wing.

“Touch my rear wing, I dare you.” The two of you shared a brief look after you said that. Charles then took the liberty of walking closer to you.

“You know what? I have a bet. If I win this race, you come home with me. I just want to talk, okay? If you win… you can ignore me and treat me like trash. Deal?” You contemplated for a while but realized it was in his favour.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want to go with you and I certainly don’t want the Bahrain curse looming over my head. What kind of deal is this?” You spat. He only seemed to be amused by that.

“Slipped my mind. Okay, then let’s do it like this; whoever places the highest— wins.” You immediately shook his hand harshly and started prepping for the race.

You ended up in P2 with Charles taking the risk of the Bahrain curse. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he would risk the championship just to sit and talk with you. It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t want to talk about that night. Why would he want to? It wasn’t like the outcome ended in a pregnancy. There was nothing to talk about.

After the race, an interviewer came up to you after having talked to Charles.

“—And hello, P2! You were amazing out there! Even avoiding pole position! How do you feel?” You felt like you’d lost everything. It was miserable. You hated losing in races, but you certainly also hated losing bets.

“I mean, I feel great! I was able to stay on top; and to me, it still feels like a 1-2 for Red Bull.” You lied straight through your teeth. It was a strike of sheer luck that you were born with such an amazing PR ability.

“Charles said that you might be upset for placing behind him, care to comment?” You looked at the interviewer with a puzzled look on your face.

“Uhhh, I’m not sure what that’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know about the Bahrain curse?” You chuckled and quickly tried to make your way away from her. She waved and you waved back with a short smile.

Upon arriving at the Red Bull motorhome, you saw Max sitting on a couch with Kelly. He looked satisfied with the win for Red Bull.

“Hey, congrats on P2. Max was telling me about it,” said Kelly. You never really liked Kelly all that much, but she was nice to Max so you didn’t bother her. Penelope, her daughter, was cute and you’d sometimes offer to babysit her for them.

“Yeah, it was a nice race.” You grabbed a juice box from the fridge and let yourself slump down in a chair.

“Why do you look so defeated? This is basically a 1-2 for us.” Max and Kelly made sure to look concerned. You didn’t want to talk about it, nor did you want to think about it. You had to meet up with Charles anyway, so you decided to give a short and vague response, before leaving,

“I guess I’m just tired. I have to go now, actually.”

You waited by Charles’ car, knowing that the paparazzi were taking pictures of you doing so. You tried your best to remain anonymous though, wearing a thick hoodie with no print along with a cap, sunglasses, and a mask. Your hair was tucked inside the hood of the hoodie. Nobody could really tell who you were, but they’d certainly speculate.

“You look like a serial killer; waiting by my car with that outfit,” said a voice coming up behind you. You saw the many fans screaming and the paparazzi wanting statements. Charles ignored them and opened the door for you. Still not wanting to actually converse with him, you decided to sit in the backseat instead. The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes, sighed, shut the shotgun seat door and got in himself. You were not going to sit next to him. You knew that only bad things would come of it.

“So, I’m your taxi driver now? Why didn’t you just get in when I opened the door for you?” He sounded a bit pissy and it was in all honesty pretty entertaining to sit and ignore.

“Hmm. Okay. So you’re only talking when it’s absolutely necessary?” You ignored him yet again. It was a mystery how the drunk version of you got to talking with him— even going as far as sleeping with him. Ever since that night, you’d had dreams about it. You believed they were fragments of memories coming back to you. It was haunting to relive. All those dreams about him; about Charles, they were just like any adult movie you’d seen before. It was embarrassingly detailed.

Luckily, the awkward car ride was short. The two of you arrived at his hotel and quickly got inside. The fact that the two of you were going to be alone in his suite was daunting to you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get you something to drink.” You took off your sunglasses, cap, and mask, and sat by the table in the room. Charles served your drinks before sitting across from you. It was like a fever dream; being in a hotel suite with your one true rival.

“I know you might not want to talk about what happened four months ago… but I think we should,” Charles began. You dreaded the atmosphere. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

“Look, I have dreams about what happened and I just— I don’t really know what to say,” you shot in before he could say anything else.

“You remember? I didn’t think you would. You were so drunk, you know?”

“I remember alright. I’ve dreamt about that night so many times now, I think I’m going to go crazy soon.” You buried your face in your hands whilst sighing.

“Yeah… I think I would be embarrassed too…” you looked up in confusion.

“Embarrassed…? I know we’re not exactly mates, but embarrassing?” At the very least, he could’ve tried to be more sympathetic. You’d been extremely drunk that night.

“Yeah, you were so loud. I got complaints from my neighbours.” Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. He wasn’t talking about your body. He was talking about your moaning. You weren’t sure how you’d recover from that one.

“Shit… but you were technically also a part of it. You’re making it sound like it’s all me.” You scowled at him.

“How was I a part of that?”

“Well, for starters, you’re the one who fucked me. I told you. I keep dreaming that… so much of it… I want to throw up.” It was probably a bad idea to have admitted that, but you didn’t want to lose the dispute.

“Fucked? You think we fucked?” He sounded genuinely surprised. His face also matched the tone of his voice, with his eyes wide open.

“Yeah, against the headboard… as I remember it, we went at it hard. On top of that, I was drunk… so can you blame me for being loud?” His shocked face suddenly melted into a smirk and his signature smug face after rubbing a victory in yours.

“So you’re telling me… you’ve dreamt about me taking you against the headboard in my apartment? Going at it hard?” Was he toying with you? You couldn’t tell.

“You know… that’s not what happened. You were so drunk I had to take you to my apartment. You were yelling and crying the entire time for some reason. I had to change you out of your dress because you threw up on it and you also threw up on the floor. You passed out minutes after you did so…” when you came to that realization, you were beyond embarrassed. The most embarrassing thing was the dreams that you admitted to having. Dreams that weren’t actual memories, but just your imagination. Did you want to fuck him? Was that it? You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it,

“If I’m correct… you were having wet dreams about… me?” You didn’t answer him. You simply got up from your seat and made your way to the front door. You had to leave. However, before you could open it, Charles pinned you to it, trapping you between his arms.

“What are you doing, Leclerc?” You looked at him with doe eyes. His breathing was ragged and you could tell he had some bad intentions.

“I have a new deal to make. For the rest of the calendar, let’s have it this way: whoever places highest wins.” He took a moment to breathe and stare into your eyes somewhat intensely.

“What about the winner?” You asked. The air felt hot and heavy. A knee was pushed between your legs.

“The winner…” he hesitated,

“The winner decides whether to fuck or not.” You gulped at his words and saw the look in his eyes.

“Deal.” The rest was history.

*Present time

It was the last race of the season and you were more than happy to finally take a well-deserved break. You had placed podium plenty of times and won against Leclerc more times than you could remember. The arrangement the two of you had set up was flawed, however. You both knew it was a bad excuse to hook up with each other, as neither of you ever chose to not fuck.

“Fuck, we need to bring this one home. If you win this, you’re the champion! First ever female champion and it’s for our team! Go out there and drive like your life depends on it, yeah?” Horner’s pep talks always got you into your racing mindset. He was the only person besides Max who was really able to lift your spirits like that.

“I’ll be there to fend off anyone threatening your pole,” said Max, who was getting ready to step in. You smiled and went in for a tight hug,

“Thanks, Max. Let’s bring it home for Red Bull!” The two of you got into your positions with your cars. The lineup was in your favour, as you’d placed pole in the qualifying session. Max was in P4, but you knew he’d have no problem working his way right behind you.

As soon as the race started, you sped off. It was smooth, and you worked most apexes just right. The radio sounded and told you that Max was right behind you, which put your mind at ease. You had nothing to be worried about as long as Max was on defense.

“So uh, Max just took out Sainz along with himself. It’s all up to you now. Leclerc is a little under half a second behind you. Your heart sank. Not just because of Max’s sacrifice, but also because Leclerc was behind you. He had the power to snatch the championship from you and graciously hand it over to another driver. You couldn’t have that happen. You simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to let Horner down, and you couldn’t bear to live with letting Max down after his takedown.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll fend him off as much as possible. We’re in the homestretch anyway, right?”

“Yes, just 5 more laps to go.” You gave it your all. You saw red. Everything was just about winning and keeping the Ferrari car behind you.

In the end, you won, but you actually couldn’t understand how. Even though you gave it your all, you did have tiny lapses of moments where Leclerc could’ve snuck in and gone for the win… but for some reason, he didn’t.

You were met with tight hugs and huge roars from fans. Max immediately lifted you up into the air and brought Christian over to do a group hug. Your interview was breezy and you felt like you’d won at life. All throughout listening to your national anthem and spraying champagne on your fellow drivers, you couldn’t help but think about Charles and why in the world he let you win.

You met up with Charles after everything. You decided to go straight to the Ferrari motorhome. There he was. In all his glory. He was scrolling through his phone, presumably checking his emails and his socials.

“Hey, uh, Charles… could we talk for a minute?” You asked. The look he gave you when he noticed was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He followed you outside and to a more secluded area where you were sure nobody would be able to hear you.

“You let me win,” you began.

“I didn’t. All I did was—“

“Shut up, okay? I know you did. I just… I want to know why,” you sighed and put a hand on your hip.

“I think you deserved the win. That’s all,” he smiled and crossed his arms.

“You’re so full of shit, Ferrari boy,” you spat and looked away. There wasn’t much around you, but a brick wall and a fence. Nobody would be able to spot you with Charles. The last thing you wanted was for the media to think the two of you were fraternizing.

“—But you keep coming back,” he replied. You slowly turned your head, only to be shoved into the wall behind you. The brunette had both of your arms locked by his hands. There was no escape for you. You had to confront whatever the two of you had been running around doing for the past season.

“Tell me, why is it such a bad thing for us to just fuck and actually feel things for each other?” He whispered. You wanted to deny it. You wanted to deny everything. He was foul, he was rude, he was reckless, but he was yours… he’d always been yours. Ever since he broke up with Giatti, the two of you had an eerie air around each other. One that couldn’t be explained with your past. One that made your heart beat faster.

“You remember the dreams you had about Lando’s party? That was all you. You must’ve felt something for me to have dreamt something like that,” he continued. Oh gosh, the dreams. He just had to bring up the dreams. You knew, however, that he wasn’t entirely wrong. Your stomach would churn with butterflies whenever you thought back to your dreams.

“Screw just fucking. Why shouldn’t we date? Tell me why we can’t be with each other.” He looked directly into your eyes, desperately searching for an answer.

“I… I just can’t— I mean I… I hate you,” you said,

“I fucking hate you, Charles!” He started backing off, and you started cornering him against the fence behind him.

“I hate how you make me feel all of these things I’m not supposed to feel!” You calmed down, and once again, were shoved against the wall.

“Tell me all about how I make you feel. My place or yours?”

“Yours… my room is further than yours,” you said whilst avoiding eye contact.

Charles immediately took you to his hotel suite. It was right next to Hamilton’s. As soon as the door opened— you threw your arms around his neck and he told you to jump into his arms. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and the two of you made out feverishly. There was no time to bring it to the bedroom. The two of you were used to doing it in all sorts of places. The Ferrari driver placed you on a counter and you started stripping each other. He was impressed by your effort to wear matching lace underwear. Whenever you did so, you always claimed it was for yourself, but he liked to beg to differ.

“Fuck, tell me.” Charles was buried in your neck, you couldn’t make yourself answer.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he gasped before going in again.

“Good… you make me feel so good,” you sighed. His lips latched onto every part of your neck that made you feel like royalty.

“You know what I mean, baby. Tell me how I make you feel.” his demanding voice was enough to make you pant harder.

“You make my… My heart beat faster,” you moaned.

“—And?”

“I feel fuzzy around you.” He loved hearing your declarations of love, so much that he couldn't take the slow pace anymore.

In a flash, he grabbed you by the hips and helped you to the floor on your knees.

“God, you're divine. Can you be a good girl and suck?” you stared at him as you removed his boxers, letting his dick spring free. It twitched in appreciation for your touch. You traced your fingers against a particularly prominent vein and heard his sounds of pleasure. He groaned and bucked his hips, needing your mouth. You met his wishes; starting by licking from the bottom to the tip. When you wrapped your lips around him, he tangled his fingers in your hair and started bobbing your head on his cock. You couldn't take all of him, but he pressed on, making you gag.

“You take me so well,“ Charles sighed, throwing his head back. With the help of his hand in your hair, you went faster, feeling his tip touch the back of your throat with every bop of your head. He seethed through his teeth and after a few minutes, you could tell he was getting close. He was grunting like crazy and pulling your hair as if his life depended on it. God, when he looked at you— he almost came. Tears stained your face and your mascara was running.

“Fuck, baby, I can't hold it anymore,“ he moaned and rammed into your face a final time, releasing his cum down your throat. You swallowed everything. He was breathless and so were you, but even so— he still had more stamina left. Stamina that he needed to use up.

“I want to taste you.“ He sat you on the counter again, before roughly spreading your legs. His fingertips teased you, grazing your inner thighs; getting closer and closer to your cunt.

“Hurry, I need you,“ you sighed and grabbed his hair.

“Beg.“

“What?“

“I said to beg for it.“ The Ferrari driver had a lustful gaze and his eyes were filled with a certain need. The insatiable hunger for you.

“Please?”

“Not good enough.”

“Please, Charles.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please… Eat me out, Leclerc.”

“Good girl,” he said before diving in. With a thumb flicking your clit, he began sucking, his tongue messaged your folds in an unreal way. He slurped as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were his salvation.

“Oh fuck, Charles!” You couldn't help but squeeze his head between your thighs. With one hand, he clenched your thigh tightly, continuing to suck you for all you were worth.

Your moans and gasps motivated him to go faster and thrust his tongue deeper into you. Your vision was blurry with pleasure. He was too good, and you couldn't take it for much longer.

“I'm going to cum,” you half-screamed and pulled him closer. He pulled away for a quick second to get a word in,

“Cum on my tongue, baby. Give it to me,” his words mixed with the pleasure of his tongue pushed you over the edge, and you found yourself releasing all over his mouth. He licked you clean afterwards and cleaned his face with a kitchen towel.

Whilst he was walking back to you, you noticed his dick being fully erect again. How that was possible, was beyond you. Apparently, he saw you staring; because he chuckled before trapping you in a delicious kiss. You tasted a bit of yourself on his tongue. It was so erotic, you couldn't fathom it.

“You taste like heaven, babydoll,” Charles whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I'm going in. You're still on the pill, right?” He asked before doing anything. You nodded swiftly and bucked your hips desperately.

“Please, Charles.”

“Please what?“

“Please fuck me stupid, Charles” He was caught off-guard by your bold response. It flipped a switch in him that made him go rogue. You were immediately swept off the counter and bent over it instead. He pinned your hands above your head and rubbed your cunt before stroking himself a few times, and then entering slowly.

“Oh fuck, you're so tight.” You heard him groan. When he reached as far as he could with your current position, you arched your back to help him reach deeper. He rested to let you get used to him. You'd had sex more times than you could count, but somehow, you were always tight. This time wasn't any different.

After a few moments, you told him to move; which he did. He almost pulled all the way out, leaving just the tip in. From there, he slammed into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched like a cat.

“Fuck!” You couldn't help but scream out. The stretch was beyond amazing. He was doing you just right. With every moan and every call of his name, he gained more confidence. The confidence fed him the energy and stamina to go even faster and harder.

You were an utter mess. Your hair stuck to your forehead due to the amount of sweat that clung to it. You were seeing stars and it felt like you were choking. You repeatedly screamed out his name like a holy mantra. It was unreal.

“Scream my name louder, sugar. Let the entire hotel know who you belong to!” You obliged. Your screams got louder and his thrusts— wilder. You felt your legs going numb, so Charles lifted one and it helped him reach even deeper than before. His hips rutted directly against yours at that point. It was heaven on earth.

“Fuck, I'm so close!” You finally yelled.

“Cum with me, okay?”

You went at it like rabbits for a few more minutes before you felt your knot begin to undo itself. Leclerc’s thrusts became more and more sloppy. It didn't take long before you came all over his dick, which pushed him to fill you to the brim. The mixture of your essence and his dripped down your thighs. You couldn't move. You couldn't feel your legs.

“Let's take a shower and go take a rest.” He lifted you from the counter and swung you over his shoulder, walking into the shower. When he turned it on, you felt the hot drops of water rain down on your skin. He helped clean you, as you couldn't stand on your own.

“I'm sorry if I was too rough,” He said whilst scrubbing your back.

“No, I'm fine. This was amazing, Ferrari boy.” He chuckled at your nickname.

After showering, the two of you headed straight to his bed. You cuddled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs were entangled with his and his arm was wrapped around you, pulling you almost fully onto himself.

“Did you mean it? Do you really have feelings for me?” He asked, looking at the ceiling.

“Did you let me win?” You asked.

”... Yes, I did,” he replied sheepishly.

“Then you have your answer.” With that, you found it hard to stay awake for a second longer; passing out whilst hearing the sound of his heart beating to yours.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[irwinsblender]

drunk on halloween

a/n: felt like writing a halloween themed fic as halloween was coming up! and i noticed a lack of wallows fics on here!!! so i thought id write one for braeden :)

happy halloween to those who celebrate <3

pairing: braeden x reader

summary: you hadn’t been to many social gatherings since your break up quite a few months ago, braeden thinks going to a halloween party with a small amount of drinking may do you some good. although, that may come with an unexpected confession.

warnings: drinking alcohol, reader feeling negative about herself

word count: 2.4k

✩ ✩ ✩

Halloween.

Usually you’d be the first person to be wanting to go out and buy a costume to go to a gathering or party with your friends.

You loved halloween. It’s the time of year you get to dress up however you want, in whatever costume you want, and you always found that thrilling.

The past couple of years, you would match costumes with your boyfriend, go to some stupid party and most likely get laughed at by his friends. It wasn’t all that fun for you now that you think back to it.

This year would be very different. You and your boyfriend broke up back at the start of the year. Which meant, no matching costume, no shitty halloween party.

Instead, you would get to spend the day with your friends. Especially, your longtime friend, Braeden. You’d turned down his halloween plans since being with your boyfriend, which was mostly his doing, so this year would be a breath of fresh air.

In your opinion, Braeden had stayed friends with you for longer than he should’ve. For reasons out of your control, you didn’t talk to him as much, you skipped plans, you practically avoided him. All because of your ex.

Braeden repeatedly told you that it wasn’t your fault. That he knew what was going on, that he wasn’t mad at you over it whatsoever.

He could never be mad at you, he cared about you way too much for that.

Since your break up, Braeden had been with you almost every day. He’d be at your apartment, cooking you food, watching movies with you, letting you borrow his clothes, sleeping over with you more than being in his own house.

You hadn’t been out much since everything happened, so Braeden put in extra effort to get you to have a good time. He took you out to eat, took you to your favourite ice cream spot, everything a boyfriend would do.

He was the perfect guy. And maybe he’d wished you’d seen that sooner.

Now, you were sat on Braeden’s bed. Legs comfortably crossed in front of you as you waited for him to change into his costume in the bathroom.

He’d told you about the halloween party Dylan would be throwing at his place, suggesting that it might be a nice time for you to see friends and relax for the night.

It didn’t take long for him to walk into the room, standing with his arms out for you to see the full outfit.

“So, you’re meant to be a… magician?” You asked, the black pants, white shirt, cape and hat made that obvious.

“And I have the props to go with it,” he enthusiastically held out a deck of cards and a magic wand. “Maybe I can magic a rabbit out of my hat.”

“You have a rabbit?”

He had an odd expression on his face. An almost unreadable one. He went to his drawers, pulling out a headband… with bunny ears on it. He raised his eyebrows.

You realised at that moment why Braeden had suggested for you to wear your most hated white dress to this halloween party. You’d even put on a hoodie over it because you hated it so badly.

“You’re not serious,” you folded your arms. “You really want me to be the bunny?”

“I just thought i’d might be nice to have a matching outfit,” he defended himself.

“But, I only used to do matching outfits with—“

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. Braeden, put the headband down on his cabinet, slowly sitting down next to you.

“I thought us doing a matching outfit could take your mind off of it,” he explained. “Give you some new happy memories for halloween.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you looked at him, seeing the sorrowful look on his face. “I know you’re doing this for me, it’s just that it’s the first halloween since everything happened.”

“And I probably should’ve asked about these outfits before calling you over here,” he truly did feel bad. He didn’t want to make you do this if you didn’t want to. “I’ll take you home so you can wear something you want to wear.”

You contemplated for a moment. Looking at this thought out costume that Braeden was wearing. You didn’t want to ruin something else for him.

He did this for you, he wanted to try and make you happy, make you forget about your ex. Another example of how much he cared, that he was willing to take you home now if you really didn’t want to do this.

“Give me the bunny ears,” you held your hand out.

“You’ll do it?”

“I’ll do it.”

He abruptly stood, grabbing the bunny ears to give them to you. You stood up too, standing in front of his mirror to place them atop your head.

The ears looked ridiculously large on you. Either way, you turned around to show Braeden who was waiting patiently behind you to see. He let out a quiet laugh, coughing to cover it up after.

“Don’t laugh!” You folded your arms over your stomach. “You’re the one who wanted me to do this.”

“No, no, you look great,” He straightened up the ears on your head, staying close to you afterwards.

You looked up at him, the sweet expression on his face, the way he was looking at you. There was meaning in that look, there must’ve been.

“Um, we should probably get going,” he stepped away, finding his phone to check the time. “I have a pair of white gloves for you too, where did I put them?”

He rummaged through his drawer, finding them after a few moments. He handed them to you, watching as you slipped them on.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you smiled, Braeden raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your hoodie.”

“What about it?”

“Aren’t you gonna take it off?” He asked. “For your dress.”

“Oh, uh, totally.”

You hesitated for a moment, taking your bunny ears off before slowly pulling the sleeves over your hands to go to take it off, but you stopped. Your dress was thin, slightly clingy. Did you have to do this?

“I always think you look beautiful in your dresses,” Braeden leaned against his wardrobe, noticing the unsure look on your face.

“it’s just—“ you closed your eyes, shaking your head. “It makes me look—“

“Pretty?” He spoke over you. “Gorgeous?”

“Come on, stop,” you chuckled.

He raised his hands in defence, looking away as you eventually pulled your hoodie over your head, placing it on Braeden’s bed before turning around.

He went to speak, no words coming out. He’d underestimated how much he’d missed getting to hang out with you, getting to do things like this with you. With his best friend. Perhaps the person he saw more as a friend.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled softly. You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, we look good together, huh?”

Together.

You looked down at your dress, over to his magician costume, “we match well,” you finally agreed. “Good job thinking of this.”

You both discussed final arrangements for Dylan’s party, making your way over to his house soon after.

It didn’t take long to get there, Dylan greeting you at the door in his priest costume before grabbing drinks for you both to have for the start of the night.

You passed Cole in his pumpkin outfit on the way to the living room, enjoying himself as much as everyone else here.

Braeden knew you had a tendency to drink to forget about your problems, so he was making sure to watch you didn’t over do it, not wanting you to end up feeling sick.

It was hard for you to admit to yourself, but you had been having a good time here so far. For the first time in two years, you were having fun on halloween. Without your boyfriend, without his stupid friends that you never knew.

You were having fun with Braeden, your best friend who you suddenly felt the need to be overly thankful to. Perhaps the alcohol in your system taking effect after being half way through your second drink.

“You know,” you gained Braeden’s attention, sitting on the sofa in the living room. “You really didn’t have to do all this matchy outfit thing for me just to try and make me happy.”

“You know,” he mocked jokingly. “I’d do anything for you if it means you’re happy.”

“Well, I am, I’m very happy,” you shuffled closer to him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you, or to keep you around.”

He sighed, glancing to your cup to see it was almost empty. You did tend to get emotional when you’re drunk, so that’s what this must be.

“I was always gonna stay around,” he leaned forwards, placing his cup on the small table. “I wasn’t about to lose you over some shitty guy.”

“He was shitty, wasn’t he?” You laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re not shitty though, you’ve never been shitty.”

“I try my best,” Braeden laughed with you.

As he sat back, you leaned that small bit closer, laying your head on his shoulder. You decided you liked him this close, feeling his arm go around your shoulders.

He noticed you fiddling with the top of your plastic cup, something you usually did if you had something on your mind. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart with you being so close.

From beside him, Dylan walked past, knocking his shoulder gently with a raise of his eyebrows. He knew how Braeden felt about you, so did Cole who was looking from the other side of the room.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” You asked, causing Braeden to abruptly look down at you.

You looked up at him, now realizing the close proximity you were in. Neither of you moved. It’s as if everything around you froze. Had his eyes always been this dreamy?

“Is it hot in here?” He suddenly questioned.

“what?”

“We should um, go and get some air,” he turned away. Glaring at his two friends as he stood up.

You didn’t know what was going on, but you followed his lead, stumbling slightly as you stood up, maybe you did drink a little too much.

Braeden immediately reached for your hand, steadying you before going any further.

“You okay?” He double checked.

You looked down at your hand in his, suddenly feeling your heart racing. This hadn’t happened before. What was going on?

“Drunk on halloween, how cliche,” you chuckled, forcing yourself to look up at him.

He shook his head at you, starting to lead you away from the living room, his hand keeping hold of yours.

You went to the back of the house, leaving through the back door. It was quiet in the backyard, peaceful, away from all the music and drinking.

You both sat down on the patio chair, now letting go of Braeden’s hand. It was a clear night, the bright stars glowing in the sky above you. Tonight was a perfect night.

Sitting in the quiet was definitely needed. Letting your mind settle, although, the only thing you could think about was all the moments you’d had with Braeden today.

The way he looked at you in his house when he adjusted your bunny ears, him calling you beautiful, his arm around you inside, the way he looked at you then, him holding your hand.

You were close to Braeden. He was your best friend. But things had felt different tonight.

Without thinking, your hand had started to edge closer to his. Pinky’s touching, linking yours with his as a little gentle touch. He didn’t move his hand away, didn’t ask what was going on.

Friends don’t act like this. do they?

“Thank you for getting me to come to this party,” you broke the silence. “It’s been nice spending this time with you again.”

“I’ve missed it,” he admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve been together to have a good time, rather than you being upset.”

“yea, together.”

You took a long breath in, shuffling to look at Braeden beside you. He turned too, not knowing why you were looking at him the way you were.

You reached up, taking his hat off of his head to run your hand through his fluffy brown hair. The only look in his eyes was adoration, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t know why I ever thought he was a good guy,” you said referring to your ex. “When I’ve had you the whole time.”

Braeden furrowed his eyebrows, he didn’t understand where you were going with this.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it before,” you cupped his cheek in your gloved hand. “I think it’s been you for longer than I realized before.”

“Stop,” he moved away slightly. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not saying this just because I’ve been drinking, Brae,” you defended. “No one’s ever cared about me the way you do, you’re always here, no matter what.”

He knew you were serious after calling him by that nickname. He sighed, relaxing into your touch as you continued on. You felt ever so closer to him now, the closest you’re sure you’d ever been to him.

Close enough to notice his quick glance down to your lips.

“I pushed you away, when I should’ve been honest with you, with myself, from the start.”

Now it was Braeden’s turn. He brushed his thumb delicately across your cheek before tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I guess my whole plan for tonight was to give you some happier halloween memories,” he holds your chin between his thumb and finger. “Can I kiss you?”

You don’t know what you’d expected, but it wasn’t for him to say that. Judging by his initial reaction, you were expecting him to move away completely.

“I thought you would’ve noticed the signs earlier on,” he leaned in closer. “Maybe now’s finally the right time.”

Without another word, he moved forwards. His lips connecting to yours in a soft kiss. He slowly pulled away after, waiting to see your reaction.

You had the most lovestruck smile on your face. A blush rising on your cheeks before you quickly cuddled up to Braeden.

This Halloween had been perfect. And now you knew that he’s all you needed and more.

✩ ✩ ✩

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