#in another life do you think we would have been brothers?

[bejeweledinterludes]

still got the blues.

OR on one quiet night spent in the bunker, you discover that the notorious, god-fearing, big, bad ‘n scary, six-foot badass hunter that is dean friggin’ winchester (aka one of your closest friends) isn’t as tough as he seems.

well.

in bed, at least.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : sub ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 8.8 k. (FAITH BE NORMAL CHALLENGE LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS 🤺🤺🤺 GET BACK! AWAY!later seasons sub dean winchester x fem reader (yes i have a problem, no i don’t care thank you!). masterbating, handjob, unprotected sex. yeah this may be the horniest thing i’ve ever written in my life.

you have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

HELLOOOOO THE LONG-AWAITED SUB!DEAN SMUT IS FINALLY HERE 🙂‍↕️🙏‼️ shoutout and thank you to @supernotnatural2005’s drabble / oneshot for the inspo on this one <3 because i think we all want to catch dean like this— which is why i wrote about it!

ALSO @figthoughts’ post from the other day too… yeah idk guys we’re just horny and ovulating connected or something when it comes to mr. jensen ackles and his characters. love you figgy pudding!

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being on the road with sam and dean for god knows how long now, you’d gotten used to all the sounds each idiot knucklehead brother would make in their sleeping state as you passed their rooms— so much so that it was basically white noise at this point, and you just tune it out.

yeah, tonight was different, though. sam had left much earlier— he and elieen were finally going on a real, live, actual date, much to your joy. which meant you and dean were alone in the bunker together. that doesn’t happen often, but when it does, you usually stay up watching 80s movies and arguing over niche things like whether or not they used real flames in back to the future (they didn’t).

that was yet another reason why tonight was different: you hadn’t seen dean all day, much less tonight. he’d been out doing god knows what— and you barely even heard him come back a few hours ago.

but you didn’t push. actually, you didn’t dare to set foot past dean’s door— taking the long way down the hall to get to the kitchen or the library throughout the evening, secretly hoping he wouldn’t come out of his room or even acknowledge your existence.

because… honestly?

living with two other men?

who the hell were you kidding. you could use a night to yourself.

and not to your knowledge or anything, but so could dean.

no disrespect though, because dean really was wishing you were there— or, rather, he was imagining you with him, which was the only acceptable option at the moment.

…but this was definitely a new low. even for him.

see, while you were actually attempting to be productive with your night, dean was not.

like, at all.

while you were doing your laundry, putting clothes away in your room, watching a show on your laptop with your airpods in— thank god, otherwise this whole thing would blow up in dean’s face…

…for the most part, figuratively.

because dean— and how does one say this without sounding like a complete and total creep?

well, dean was jerkin’ it in his own room.

fappin’.

beatin’ da meat.

whatever the male version was of flickin’ the bean.

oh, and the (best) grossest part?

he was thinking about you while doing it.

yeah, yeah, it’s sick, it’s definitely wrong on so many levels— and it sure as hell feels downright illegal and a sin to be doing it while you’re in the fucking bunker.

it’s the lowest of the low. weird. pathetic.

but then again, dean’s always been a little… pathetic when it comes to you.

don’t let anyone know you know that, though.

so, back to dean being pathetic and horny. he’d been at the bar in town for hours earlier tonight, trying to find someone to satisfy the strain on his pants— and that someone needed to look a whole lot like you to get the job done.

how hard could it be?

well, apparently, in lebanon, kansas, finding a look-alike clone of your best friend so you could fuck them silly? it’s really goddamn hard.

and so was dean.

so here he was—did i say pathetic already?— jerking off in his bedroom like some horny teenager. he’s on his fourth, maybe fifth time cumming to the thought of purely just you.

that’s right, no porn, no nudie mags, not even a goddamn picture in his free hand— because dean was wound up so freakin’ tight, he didn’t need anything. just his hand and his filthy imagination.

it’s humiliating. dean’s literally bucking his hips up into his hand as of right now, imagining it’s yours and not his— all while letting out these little noises that do not sound like they’d be coming from a six-foot, tough as nails hunter. but they are.

and they’re all for you.

dean winchester does not whimper. hell, no. but the broken sound that rips from his throat, tossing his head back on his pillow after he tugs a little too hard on himself was anything but.

and maybe dean should be making less noise— but he knew you so well, too well— you’d have your airpods on noise canceling, anyway. and he can’t even think about if you didn’t. he’s too wrapped up in a haze right now. he’s so distracted. by-god intoxicated.

because dean’s imagining you after that one hunt in virginia. yeah. the moon had been out that night, and god, the way it hit you— a combination of this deep blue and silver and it just lit up your skin, illuminating you like you were one of those ancient goddesses, like the ones he’s only read about in old myths and legends when he’d been so bored he actually did research in the library.

dean’s imagining you, just you, right there with him, and it was your hand, not his. imagining you pulling those sounds from his throat while he’s breathing so heavy, his chest heaving up and down. and the sheets covering only his bottom half were shifting with him as he was moving what seemed like his entire bed along with him as of now.

dean was trying to be quiet.

but his body was not letting him.

and poor you— oh, sweet, innocent you. because as far as dean knew, you were completely oblivious to what was currently occurring in his bedroom at the moment.

but what dean didn’t know was that your airpods had died over an hour ago.

and you’d made the mistake of not taking the long way back to your room this time, thinking that dean had gone to bed due to the late hour.

you had stopped in your tracks in the hall coming back from the kitchen— because you heard dean. heard his little broken groans, damn close to whimpers.

and you genuinely believed that dean was just having a nightmare at first— because hell, with the shit you guys encountered on the daily, it wasn’t uncommon for any of y’all to make a goddamn racket in your sleep.

drawing that conclusion— because it was the only one that was realistic, you start towards your room again, already starting to tune out dean’s weird-as-hell noises.

but before you even take two more steps past dean’s room, you hear something else— a little muffled through the door, but clear as day. because it sends a jolt straight through you.

your name.

he’s having a nightmare, you remind yourself. he could be just calling out to you in that sense, because that would be logical. but then he says your name again. and again.

and it’s just your name.

not sam’s.

not cas’.

just. yours.

and dean sounds like a man possessed at this point. his eyes are squeezed shut, as if he’s trying to banish the image of you from his mind.

but he can’t. and he never would.

he just can’t do it. can’t keep himself in check anymore.

so that’s why dean groans your name at the next motion of his hand on his dick— saying it for the fourth time since you’ve been stopped outside his door.

and it wasn’t a ‘i’m-in-so-much-pain-and-scared’ groan, the kind when someone has a nightmare— no, dean’s groan sounded like a ‘oh-that-feels-so-fuckin-good’ groan, like the kind someone makes when…

oh.

oh.

dean knows he sounds pretty close to, if not completely pathetic. not at all like the good ol’ badass hunter of lore, not that you’d believed him to be. you’d think he’d sound more in control, or at least not whimpering.

dean’s battled both heaven and hell. purgatory. angels, demons, monsters, even sometimes, just people, you name it— he’s fought it and kicked its freakin’ ass, even god himself.

and his one fault? his only weakness?

you.

it’s always been just you. your stupid pretty face. the way you laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny. the way you stood by him and his brother’s side— and in the hunting world, associating with the winchesters meant a death sentence. you didn’t care, though. you never did. it was in the way you were always there, especially when it counted.

and here he was. jerking off and thinking about you.

this had to be rock bottom. right? if not that, purely a whole new level of scumbag. even if you couldn’t hear him.

oh, but you could. and you’re lingering outside dean’s door— because you didn’t even have to put your ear on it to hear the noises he was making, clear as day.

dean feels like he’s drunk, delirious. this always happened whenever he fantasized about you. a pathetic, groaning and whimpering mess. hell, in this state, he’d damn well beg.

and oh, he was.

“fuckin’— please— god, i need you, please—”

damn, you could almost see it— dean’s hand, hidden by the dark of his room, but the way the sheets move makes it obvious just where his hand is. and it’s a blur.

yeah. there was no more holding out, no more being strong. not now.

because dean feels like he’s on the edge of his own personal hell.

and you? you’re stuck.

dean was… well, fucking doing that. and you’re just… stuck. you would have just kept walking past his door, putting your pillow between your ears and teasing him about it tomorrow morning.

because instead crying or groaning out the name of some random girl or even farah fawcett— dean was currently begging.

for you.

and you’re still stuck. dean feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind. he’s gonna cum again, he knows it. he also knows he should be quiet, but the words and your name just keep spilling out of his mouth, and he’s too far gone to stop them.

“ah— fuck. please. please, please, goddamn it, i need you, i need you, i need you…”

yeah, dean’s brain’s not in charge anymore. honestly? it hasn’t been since he met you all those years ago— with your stupid pretty hair, and your stupid pretty mouth, and the stupid soft sounds you make in your sleep that drove him insane whenever you used to share a motel room.

dean needs you.

and you needed a fucking cold-ass shower.

because the way dean was sounding right now? he only sounded like that in your dreams. your deepest, darkest fantasies. it was making your knees buckle.

yeah. there’s absolutely no way any of this was real. this was straight out of a porno. this had to be the trickster’s doing, or something.

because the real dean didn’t act like this. and yet, here he was. and here you were, your stomach flipping each time a sound leaves dean’s mouth and bounces off the wooden door that was still splitting you two apart.

and right then and there, you wished you had the balls to just open it.

because you wanted to be right there next to dean, pulling those noises out of him yourself.

“need you—need you right there, need you, right, right, oh, god, there—”

even in dean’s own fantasies, the ones that drove him to insanity like right now, he’d always thought about this. you actually being there, him actually saying all this to you.

dean would’ve given anything, then. anything. just to have you right next to him in his bed.

yeah, well, you’re still just stuck.

because what the fuck do you do.

do you walk back to your room? pretend you didn’t notice? pretend it never happened? not listen to the sounds dean was making?

or, do you open the door? go in his room and just show dean how you’d really felt about him— for years now?

and lately, it seemed like you all you could think and dream about was being in the same bed with dean, touching every part of him.

because if you were in there right now, you’d touch dean’s skin that you yourself had deemed forbidden, because it’d be seen as crossing a line, breaking a boundary.

hello? reality check, anyone?

come on. dean was your friend.

but the noises he was making in your name— because of you? that was anything but.

yeah. if you were in there, you’d start with your hands on dean’s chest, going lower, and lower, until he started making the sounds he was making now, gasping and begging right in your ear for you, not stopping until he completely just—

yeah, that was it.

you knew your answer.

and dean needs exactly what you’re about to do. because god, he’s thought about it. in the dead of night, when he was alone, or when you’d been just out of reach sitting next to him in a dive bar, he’s wanted this. wanted you.

dean wanted to know the way your hands would feel against his skin, how your body would feel against his own. he’s thought about it. hell, he’d dreamed about it. fantasized— just like he was doing now.

and dean was still fantasizing when you throw away every single rational thought you had at the moment and manage to open his door without making a noise— thank you, hunter skills.

this was crazy. right?

eh. you’ve done crazier.

no. not like this.

and not with dean.

but still, you managed to cross the threshold of dean’s room— and you even sit down on the edge of his bed.

okay, the more you thought about it…was this awkward?

maybe.

oh, but dean doesn’t even notice you— his eyes were screwed tightly shut, mouth parted and huffing out pants and broken noises as one of his hands continues to move fervently. his hips are wild, bucking into his hand— and his body is shaking his entire bed frame.

dean’s too far gone to notice anything, lost in a fantasy that’s been haunting him for longer than he’s willing to admit out loud. the only thing that could even remotely stop him would be—

hold on.

dean’s hit by a familiar scent— the one he’d been imagining this whole time. but that really does smell like— and its now so close, so real, it practically envelopes him. and his eyes open to—

you.

right there. in his bed. within reach. looking at him like he’s always wanted you to look at him.

and there’s no disgust or anger on your face as you look down at dean, still frozen in place. no, just a hint of amusement, mixed with something else—

something dangerously close to pure want.

you don’t say anything, even though you know you should by now. because now dean knew that you knew exactly what he’d just been doing— more importantly, you were now aware of who the focus of it all was.

and goddamn if the look on your face doesn’t have dean pausing, too. he’s never seen it on your face before. and it’s too dark in his room for him to really make it out, but he thinks he sees—

you weren’t disgusted. you weren’t grossed out, or even angry.

you’re just… looking at him like the fantasy he’s been chasing isn’t a goddamn fantasy anymore— but instead something he could reach out and touch. feel.

dean has to swallow whatever excuse he could come up with to talk himself out of what you’d just walked in on. what you’d just heard. and his mouth is dry.

a part of you wants to pounce onto dean right now. to kiss him silly, touch him everywhere and make him gasp your name again— only with you being the sole instigator this time.

but the annoying other part of you halted that urge.

and why?

because of your stupid morals.

your goddamned feelings.

and you had to ask dean, had to know— even if the answer hurt you.

“how long?”

dean’s brain almost completely flatlines for a long moment. though, he knows what you’re insinuating, of course.

how long dean has been thinking about you in that way? how long and hard had he fantasized about his hands on your body, his mouth on your skin, and his dick buried so deep inside you, he gets hand cramps almost every night he’s alone?

yeah. it scares him, just how goddamn long it’s been.

“…years.”

that was all you needed. in reality, you don’t actually pounce or anything, but you do move closer to dean on his bed, tossing one leg over both of his to straddle his lap before meeting his gaze again.

“you have no idea,” your voice is barely above a whisper to dean as you keep his gaze, making yourself comfortable in his lap. “how much i wanted to hear that.”

and dean can’t help the groan he lets out, at feeling your weight, your body, straddling his lap. he’s spent too many nights dreaming of exactly this. his hands automatically go to your hips, as if they’re on autopilot.

because he’s not in charge anymore.

and honestly?

he doesn’t think he ever was when it came to you.

and a small smile tugs on your lips when you feel dean’s hands on your hips— your own fingers start to trail from his wrists and up his arms, your pace slow, but deliberate.

because you were going to memorize every inch of dean that you could.

oh, dean’s just barely managing to keep his hips still, to not buck up underneath you. he can feel you, now that you’re straddling him, the heat there, where he’d wanted to feel you for so, so long.

and when your fingers trail up his arms, dean shudders. because it’s so gentle, tender. he can’t remember the last time anyone touched him this way, if at all.

your hands eventually reach dean’s face. oh, his gorgeous face. you cup both sides, taking in everything: those green eyes of his, the freckles you could see only if you were up close dusting on his nose and cheeks—his features were illuminated only by the dim light of his desk lamp, but you could see so much because of how close you both were now.

the slight smile is still on your lips as you look at dean— because you were still a little sure you were going to wake up at some point.

but this wasn’t a dream, you had to remind myself. dean was under you. he wanted you, in the same way you’d wanted him for as long as you can remember.

and dean feels like he can’t breathe properly. he’s been slapped, punched, cut, beaten, tortured, everything violent under the sun done to his face— but no one’s had their hands on it like this.

he feels too exposed, too vulnerable, but he doesn’t move.

because it’s you. it could only ever be you.

dean keeps his gaze locked to yours, even as he has to stop himself from just completely melting into the palms of your hands on his face. he wants to look at you for forever, keep you just like this— and his expression is so open, so bare.

your thumbs gently graze across both of dean’s cheeks as you hold his face in your hands.

and you can’t look away.

so you don’t.

but you do lean a fraction closer to dean in his lap, breaking the silence in a hushed whisper— because there goes your stupid doubts and feelings, again.

“you want this?”

even though he almost wants to, dean can’t laugh. not when he knows you’re being serious. it kills him, a little— that you’re still doubting it.

because how could he not want this? you?

“god, yes.” dean’s not even sure if he says that out loud, or just thinks it— but he’s nodding regardless, and with the movement bringing his face even closer to yours.

and your gaze softens almost completely when dean says that— but there’s one doubt that sticks, even when his words wash all the others away from your mind. the one that’s been there almost the entire time you’ve known him.

“de, i…” you don’t take your hands off of dean’s face when you try to speak again— but the words die in your throat. you swallow a little, averting your gaze.

and god, when dean hears you hesitate, he’s already on edge.

dean doesn’t know what you’re about to say,— all he’s aware of is that you’re now looking away from him. and he can’t have that, so he brings his hand (non-jerking, of course) to your chin, gently but firmly, forcing you to look at him again.

he tries to keep his voice even, but he can’t.

“tell me.”

you’re forced to keep dean’s gaze when his hand touches your face— and his fingers are so warm, you almost lose your train of thought completely.

you’ve wanted dean for so long— but you had to make sure he fully felt the same way you did.

not just lust. not something to walk past awkwardly the next day.

“i— i can’t do this… just for tonight,” you swallow hard again, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flick between dean’s. “but i… i think you know that.”

even with the worry that had been coursing through his veins, dean couldn’t help but be impressed at the fact you think there’s a chance in hell he’d be able to have you once and just… let you go afterwards. his hand on your chin drops a fraction, resting on the side of your throat instead. he swallows, then finds his voice.

“i know.”

your gaze softens a little— and it’s a little embarrassing how much weight felt completely lifted off your chest when dean says that.

you had denied your feelings for dean for years now. and now knowing that he felt the same way, it was getting harder and harder to control the urge to just do what you wanted.

“well, good,” you bring your hands to tilt dean’s head up more to you as you’re in his lap, eyes flicking down to his lips— because you so needed to know what they felt like. “that’s— that’s good.”

and damn, if dean isn’t already struggling. nothing’s even happened yet, and he’s trying his best just to keep still, to resist all his natural impulses and desires to just grab you and never, ever let you go. when your eyes flick down to his lips, his follow suit almost instantly. his voice is almost a damn croak when he responds.

“yeah?”

all your senses were filled with just dean. and you needed more. you’d denied your feelings for far too long— years now, in fear of him not reciprocating. but you couldn’t deny your feelings or your urges anymore.

“yeah,” you echo back in an exhale, your thumbs grazing on dean’s cheeks. your gaze is still on his lips, but you look back up at him. “you— you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”

hot damn.

dean feels like he’s going to wake up at any second at those words that just came out of your mouth. because he never dared to let himself hope that you could feel the same way he did. and it’s been so, so goddamn long of wanting you with every fiber of his being, wanting to touch you and hold you and never, ever let you go.

oh, he’s too far gone to even feel sheepish about how he’s almost shaking now, hands trembling and breath coming fast as he’s barely keeping the reins on his self-control.

dean’s trembling sends a shiver down your spine. even after you just said all that, he still wanted this.

you might die.

or you were already in some version of heaven that jack made up.

because dean wanted you.

“just lemme kiss you,” dean would be embarrassed of how desperate and out of breath he sounded if he could give two damns. he says your name again: “please—”

dean can’t even think straight anymore. yet, never could when it came to you. his hands go to your thighs, gripping tight like it’s all he can do to resist the urge to just flip you over right that moment.

you can’t hold back anymore.

neither can he.

so you don’t.

you close the final distance between you both, taking his mouth in a kiss that’s hard, desperate and full of years’ worth of emotion.

and dean’s lips felt like home. and that’s a weird thing to say, but it was true. you’d never kissed him before this, but it really was him that you’d been missing all this time.

your hands on dean’s face trail into his hair, and you could feel yourself completely melting into him when you pull myself closer to him in his lap, hips fully slotting with his own— and you both groan a little at the feeling.

dean kisses you like a goddamn starving man, his hands gripping at your thighs so hard he’s afraid he’s leaving marks. but he can’t bring himself to care, because he’s finally kissing you. finally having you in the way he’s only dreamt of.

dean hasn’t been touched— kissed like this, ever.

like he’s something precious. to be loved. it makes him feel weak. but he can’t really bring himself to care about that, either.

all you could think about was how good dean smelled. and as his lips danced with yours, he even tasted good. like whiskey and something you couldn’t place— but it sure as hell was definitely dean.

and god, it’s perfect. dean’s trying to swallow the little noises his mouth is threatening to make again as you kiss him back, kissing him like you feel the same— he thinks he’s losing his mind for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

dean’s grip on your thighs tightens even more. he couldn’t help it anymore— he rocks you against his lap, his hips bucking up against yours in an involuntary but much needed movement. and a little sound pretty close to a whimper does escape him this time, hitting your lips as you grind your own hips down onto him.

you had to break your lips from dean’s to get stupid air, but your forehead rests against his as one of your hands unlatches itself from his hair, trailing downward on the fabric of his henley as you’re in his lap.

and you’d tease him about the noises he’s making— if it wasn’t leaving your underwear a complete and sopping mess because of it.

dean’s mind is hazy, lost in the feel of you against him and in his lap, his mind trying to keep up with all the things happening.

he’s a hunter, goddamn it.

he needs to get a freakin’ grip.

but he can’t.

because of the way your kiss felt like a drug. the way you’re so close he can feel your breathing, and the way you’re grinding up against him like you mean it—

and then dean feels your hand on his shirt, sliding further down past his stomach, and he feels like he’s about to go insane. he’s hallucinating, under some sort of spell that shows you what you’ve always desired. that’s the only plausible explanation.

but this was real. oh, so real.

dean’s hands were still holding on for dear life on your thighs, but your own was still going farther and farther down the fabric of the henley he was wearing, stopping at the hem and tugging on it, talking against his lips—

“put your arms up f’me, dean.”

goddamn, if that doesn’t make him literally shiver when you say his name like that, all breathless and pretty.

and dean follows the instruction, raising his arms and letting you pull the shirt over his head, revealing his the skin underneath.

he’s not even embarrassed of his scars, the marks on his body from over the years. not with you. the uneven skin told their own tales he wouldn’t dare open his mouth about, even after three whiskeys deep.

you discard dean’s shirt somewhere in his room without another thought when he lifts his arms up.

you’ve actually only seen dean shirtless twice— once after a hunt, and if you count that one time when that motel room with shitty air conditioning that got too hot last summer. you kept your eyes glued to the lore in front of you then, not daring to look.

this time, however, you couldn’t look away.

not even if you tried.

your lips are parted in what could only be described as pure awe while your eyes and fingers rake over every inch of new skin revealed while still in dean’s lap. first trailing a path up his exposed arms as your eyes continue to drink in all the details of him you’d never thought you’d see.

dean has never, ever been looked at the way you’re looking at him right now.

your fingers continue to trail up dean’s arms, fingertips grazing on the scars you could see in the dim light of his room. you actually knew some of them— having been there when he sustained the wound that made the scar, but a lot were new to you.

and you wanted to memorize it all.

it’s almost embarrassing how he feels like something to be worshipped under your touch. like someone to be taken care of. to be cherished.

as your fingers trail up his arms, he has to bite down on a whine in the back of his throat— forcing himself to keep still under your gaze as you rake your gaze over him. his voice is rough and hoarse when he manages to speak, but all he could get out was your name.

your hands found themselves resting dean’s shoulders while you take in the breathtaking view that is him under you, meeting his gaze when he says your name, voice just as quiet as his.

“yeah, de?”

your touch feels like dean took the jumper cables he had in the back of baby and put it against his skin. but it’s so soft, so gentle. it’s also making his whole body ache, yet he just wants more. and he can’t keep his eyes off you, either. the way you’re looking at him, at his scars like they’re nothing to be ashamed about… it’s almost safe.

dean swallows, hands coming to rest on your waist now that he’s topless. his voice sounds wrecked, broken.

because he’s begging.

“touch me.”

dean’s hands on your waist were making your heart beat all out of rhythm— and you almost completely lose your train of thought looking into his green eyes, wide and blown out.

for you.

you just nod at dean’s words— and your fingers continue their journey downward from dean’s shoulders, trailing over his skin until you eventually reach the waistband of his boxers, and you keep your hands there on the fabric when you look back up at him.

because you still needed to know:

“can i take these off?”

oh, for the love of—

dean nods rapidly before you’re even done asking, because he’d do anything, anything, to have you touch him like he had been not just a few minutes earlier— in fact, he’s already lifting his hips off the bed to make it easier for you, because he’s not about to hesitate. he needs you. he’s needed you for too goddamn long.

and when you manage to pull off dean’s boxers, discarding them in one fell swoop after he confirms and lifts his hips for you, your eyes widen at the sight of him completely exposed beneath you on his bed— and a quiet ‘jesus christ’ escapes from your lips before you can stop it.

and your reaction makes dean’s breath hitch. because it’s not a disgusted one— it’s the exact opposite. he feels vulnerable like this, exposed to you in a way he’s never been to anyone else. he should feel embarrassed. but he doesn’t, oddly enough.

his voice is so goddamn quiet when he bites down on another whine.

“please.”

and you just nod again. then both your hands find dean’s chest once more— and you start trailing a path down his lower torso with your fingers.

dean can’t help the way he lets out a strangled moan at your touch against his bare skin. with no clothing in the way to block it, he’s so much more sensitive. every single touch makes his breath hitch, his head spinning with how perfect it feels.

it’s too much.

and yet, he needs more.

dean’s hands find your hips again, gripping, trying to get you even an inch closer to him.

and as your fingers get lower and lower on dean’s stomach, you hesitate your hands. not because you weren’t sure— but it felt… well, wrong not to at least ask him for permission first.

so you look back up and meet dean’s gaze, eyes searching his again as you whisper, shifting closer to him in his lap.

“can i go lower?”

and at your question, a sharp shiver wracks through dean’s whole body— he’s half convinced he’s going to to just cum right there, even if you don’t end up touching him.

dean’s practically trembling under you now, hands gripping tighter on your hips. he tries to speak again, to say something— but his voice comes out in a strangled moan.

all he can do is nod against his headboard.

a soft exhale escapes you when dean confirms. you nod— and don’t hesitate again.

not when he was like this.

you take all of him in one of your hands— but you don’t even try to look away from his face while you do so. because you had to see his face for this.

and dean feels like the air’s getting ripped from his lungs at how good your touch feels. he’s never felt anything like this before. it could be the fact that he hasn’t had actual sex in a while (apparently, he’s considered old now), or purely just because of you.

yeah, but dean’s never been touched like this before. so goddamn gentle. but it’s still perfect. his eyes are still locked to yours, and his expression looks pained. it’s all too much, after wanting this for so long.

and all he can do is whisper your name before your hand starts to move.

you start starts slow— not too slow, though, because dean had already fucked his palm tonight more times tonight than he’d like to admit.

dean’s eyes actually flutter shut for a moment when your hand starts to move, a moan catching in the back of his throat. because it’s barely even started, and it’s so good. too good.

dean’s hands on your waist are close to shaking now, but he has to speak— even as it comes out in a hoarse croak.

because he needs—

“more. jesus, i need—”

you don’t even entertain the thought to tease dean or not do as he asked— because the sounds he was desperately trying to keep in were making you want to keep going, to not stop.

so you don’t stop. your hand speeds up, going back and forth on dean’s dick— and your gaze still doesn’t leave his while in his lap, touching him in the way you’ve always wanted to for so long.

and when you pick up the pace, dean’s breath hitches even more— god, it’s so good, but he still needs more. his hands are shaking as they grip tight on your waist, and his eyes somehow keep your gaze, even as his head feels like it’s spinning right into his headboard.

dean manages to get out his next request, in a begging whisper of a breath. he’d be ashamed if he wasn’t so desperate.

“please— please, i need—”

“its alright,” you nod before he can finish this time, leaning your head and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i gotcha, de.”

and that’s it. you say those words and dean feels like he could cum right there. he’s already so close, just from your touch, the way your hand’s moving so beautifully up and down on his dick. the way you’re looking at him. he tries to keep his eyes open, too— to keep looking at you, but everything you’re giving him is starting to overwhelm him, he can hardly even breathe anymore.

dean glances down at your hand between both of you— big mistake, because the sight of your fingers around his dick and covered in him makes him let out strangled whimper. he bites down on his lip hard, his head falling back against the headboard and his eyes screwing shut. because it’s embarrassing how close he is to cumming in your hand.

you notice, of course— your hand doesn’t let up, but your other hand on dean’s shoulder goes to the side of his face, thumb grazing on his cheek. it’s a stark contrast to what you’re doing to his dick.

“de, its okay,” you reassure dean as his breaths become more and more unsteady, eyes flicking over his face. “you can let go if you wanna.”

and that’s it. that’s all it takes.

as soon you give him permission, dean’s gone.

his body suddenly goes rigid, then he’s bucking his hips into your hand so erratically and sloppily you would’ve been knocked from your position on dean’s lap if he hadn’t buried his face in your still clothed chest, tightened his arms fully around you and pulled you closer to him. he cums loud and hard, a mixture of soft groans, whimpers, swears and pants of your name spilling into the fabric of your shirt.

you’d never heard him like this before, ever.

but dean winchester— the man, the myth, the hunter god, was whimpering as you’re in his lap.

for you.

because of you.

and because it’s all too damn much— the way your hand feels, the touch of your thumb against his face, the look in your eyes when you said that it’s okay for him to let go of the tight rein he’s been holding onto for so long.

dean can feel himself shaking and still coming apart under you as you guide him through it, his face buried in your shoulder as you pull every last bit of pleasure out of him that he has with your fingers. he’s never felt so goddamn free before. he’s never come apart, not like this— not completely exposed like this.

dean’s hands are still shaking as they rest your waist, his entire body almost trembling with it being still so overwhelming. but it was perfect. and he needs to say that, to tell you that it was everything he’d ever wanted—

“please— please, just kiss me.”

and that comes out of dean’s mouth instead. you’d barely started to wipe your hand when the words spill out in a plea— a beg into your shirt. you’re a little surprised that was the first thing he said post-orgasm.

but still, you lean back just enough after dean says that, bringing your free hand to the side of his face while still in his lap, your gaze flicking between his in the dark of his room for just a moment before you lean back in, pressing your lips onto his again.

dean doesn’t hold back now. he doesn’t care about the mess he just made, the way he sounded, or the fact that he begged you to kiss him after you just made him cum.

he kisses you like a starved man, like the air he was breathing needed to come from your mouth and not any other source. his hands move to the back of your hips, gripping your shirt tight and pulling you even closer to him on his lap, now that your hand wasn’t between you both anymore.

dean tears his lips off of yours— and he is still just barely coming back to himself. his brain still hazy from pleasure, from you, but he tries to get out words because he needs to tell you how much he still wants, needs you. his hands grip tight on your hips, like he’s afraid you’ll just get up and leave if he lets go. his voice is still wrecked when he only manages to whisper your name again.

you don’t move out from dean’s lap, though. you stay pressed against him, his skin so warm and flushed against your own. neither of you had to say anything to know how intimate this all was. dean should be attempting to at least do something besides burying his face back in your shirt.

but you don’t let dean stay like that for too long. your hands go to the sides of his face, holding his head as you tilt it back to look up at you, searching his gaze as you continue to straddle him. and your own voice is a whisper, too.

“y’okay?”

and god, dean feels like his entire body’s just come apart again at that single word, because how do you answer a question like that.

dean has to take a breath, because he still feels the aftermath of it. everywhere. he nods, once— because he’s better than even alright. then again, because he has to tell you that, too.

“yeah,” he manages to get that out, and it’s still so damn wrecked, so out of breath. “more than okay.”

“okay, good,” your gaze softens and you nod when dean confirms that he was okay— and your other now-clean hand finds the side of his face when he looks up at you. a small smile tugs on your lips as your thumbs graze on his cheek. “just checkin’.”

dean’s blown-out eyes are still locked to yours as you brush your thumb against his skin, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of feeling you touch him like this.

it’s so tender. so soft.

and dean’s just… lost. in you.

but dean does finally manage to speak again, his voice still hoarse as his hands release from your hips start to trail down, calloused fingers rubbing gently on your exposed thighs and saying your name like a prayer. “god, i need—”

you keep dean’s gaze still— but not before glancing down to see his hands on your bare thighs in his dimly-lit bedroom as you straddle him.

dean’s hands looked like they belonged on you.

felt like it, too.

one of your own hands reaches down from dean’s face to his on your thigh, grasping on his fingers with yours.

“tell me what you need,” your voice is still a hush of a whisper, but remains completely and utterly genuine as you search dean’s gaze. “de, tell me what you need me to do, and i’ll do it.”

holy goddamn.

dean’s breath actually stutters a little at that, because you sound so ready, so willing— he can’t help but let those last three years of pining, of wanting you, of hoping show as he looks up at you.

“ride me. please.”

the words come out in a half-choked plea. dean’s so damn desperate for you, he’d beg. hell, he was begging in the darkness.

and you weren’t about to say no.

your hands take themselves off of dean’s face and hand, lifting your leg to discard your sleep shorts, then your (soaked) undies— then going to the shirt that you’d still been wearing, grabbing the hem of it and tearing it off, discarding it somewhere in his room before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

and when that finally comes off, too, dean’s entire damn body tenses. because he felt like the air had just been ripped from his lungs.

again.

he’s seeing you more exposed to him, for him than he’s ever seen you before— and the sight of you like this is goddamn perfect. you’re so perfect.

dean’s hands tighten on your thighs, his eyes taking in the view of you like a man starved.

“holy—”

there’s a thousand words he has for you right now. things like beautiful, perfect, mine. but he can’t get them out yet. because his brain is still trying to catch up from the fact that you’re actually here and naked in his lap.

both of dean’s hands reach for your hips as he’s still staring up at you in awe, his fingers gently but almost greedily gripping on you— because he wants to touch you so bad that he wants to let out a goddamn sob. because no one has ever felt like this for him.

because no one has ever come close to the way he craved you.

your eyes meet back up to dean’s green ones once again. you didn’t have to tell him anything or even say something else.

so that’s why you just nod, then reach down between you both once more, starting to fully sink yourself on dean’s dick— all while still keeping his gaze while you let your hands rest on his shoulders, a exhale escaping you both.

you not even halfway on his dick, and dean thinks he might bust again right then and there. his fingers dig into your hip, all while a groan escapes his parted lips: “ah, shit—”

and oh, he’s big. it takes you a second, but you sink down completely on top of him, your pussy sucking him all up— dean feels like he can’t breathe. again. the sight of you like this is gonna fuel his jerk off sessions for the rest of his goddamn life.

dean’s not sure if it’s possible, but he uses his hands on your hips to gently just pull you even closer against him— which ended up being a mistake, because you involuntarily clench around him. his head drops in between your tits at the action.

and.

he.

whines.

“f— fuck—”

yeah. dean just whined at the feeling of being inside of you, eyes screwed shut and everything as he buries his face deeper between your breasts— you can feel the pant of air and his lips on your skin.

dean’s fingers lace together with yours fully, holding your hand tightly while his other is still gripping tight on the meat of your hip, finally taking his face off of you to look up at you above him.

and oh. you’re a goddess, at least. not something heavenly though, because angels are dicks— but you look unreal as you look back down at dean, your mouth just a little parted from feeling him.

dean twitches a little inside you as he tries to find words, just a few, to tell you how much he wants this— or at least to tell you to move.

all he can get out, though?

“p— please.”

you don’t have to ask for clarification.

you know what dean’s asking for.

so you give it to him.

you grind your hips—and dean whines a little again at that— down onto his just once, testing the waters before you find a rhythm.

and dean feels his entire brain just go on complete and total motherfucking overdrive. because this is it. he’s finally getting the most intimate part of you, the part he’s been wanting for so damn long— he literally can’t see straight anymore. that’s how good it feels. how good you feel.

dean’s head goes in between your tits again, still holding your hand as you move your hips on top on him, grinding down on his dick. his other arm goes around your waist, pressing himself against you and gripping you tight in an attempt to steady himself— but it barely helps. his eyes screw shut again, and he’s letting out another whimper before he can stop it.

“fff— oh, fuck—”

a moan drops from your mouth, too, but it’s nothing compared to the sounds dean’s making, gasping and groaning into your skin as he fucks up into you, meeting your movements. his dick is brushing on that spot that makes you groan— and kickstarts your urge to go faster.

so you do.

dean can’t control anything right now. his hips are bucking up into you erratically, the movements only being stunted a little due to how strong your thighs were around him as you straddle him.

your hand not holding dean’s goes into his hair as you’re both pressed together for a better grip— and dean almost sees stars. he groans a little again, his breaths coming in hard pants on the skin between your breasts.

and the praise falls from your lips onto dean’s ear before you can stop it—

“you’re doin’ so good, de.”

dean feels like he’s gonna cry. just from how perfectly good you feel on top of him— and he’s making the most delicious noises that sound like words but it’s just broken moans mixed with whimpers. his hand on your hip tightens to the point it’s almost painful, but you don’t mind all that much.

“ah, don’ worry, i gotcha,” you whisper against dean’s ear again, your hand tightening on his as you let out a rough exhale, chest heaving rapidly against his as your movements don’t falter once. “you’re doing so good f’me, dean.”

dean’s not in control of the sounds that come out his damn mouth anymore— the praise goes straight to his dick, straight to the familiar burning building low in his tummy. it’s just all swearing, sounds of your name and incoherent begging being said into your skin.

“ah— shit, fuckin’— please—”

dean’s not even trying to stop the words from rushing out of his mouth right now, even if he sounds pathetic. because it all feels so goddamn good, and he’s being so good— for you.

and dean can feel nothing but you right now, in every sense possible. everything else has been long gone, and he’s been so goddamn wrapped up in how good your pussy feels around his dick.

dean gasps for air, because wants to tell you that you’ve ruined every living thing for him in the entire goddamn universe forever.

he wants to tell you that he’s about to cum— again.

“jesusfuckin’christ— oh, please—” is what comes out of him instead.

the words are barely intelligible, and dean’s whole body is starting to tense underneath you as he manages to choke out a ragged cry of your name. your hand is still gripping hard onto his own, the other burying itself deeper his hair. you needed to hold onto him right now. shit, you needed a sec.

because dean winchester was begging to cum inside of you.

you almost stop grinding down on him for a second— the keyword being almost.

you just nod against dean’s head still buried in your tits, holding him against you as you talk into his ear again.

“go ahead, baby.”

dean almost sobs again when you say that. he lets go completely just as before, his hands’ grips becoming painful on you as his whole body shakes and convulses against yours, the movements of his hips becoming so erratic once more as he’s painting your walls with his… sixth? seventh? load of the night— only this time, it’s inside of you. and he’s making every sound in the book: whimpers, groans, a whine here and there, too.

you came, too— but honestly, if you didn’t, you would’ve been fine either way. seeing and hearing dean come apart like this was enough to last you a lifetime.

you don’t know how long dean and you stay like that, pressed into each other and panting, fluids mixed together, spilling out and sticking all over your thighs— but even as you pull back just enough to look down at him, dean’s still trembling under you, long after both your orgasms had surpassed their high, melting into a thick haze between you two.

dean can’t look at you— or won’t, but either way, your hand in his hair trails to the side of his face, and you gently force him to look up at you.

dean swallows hard, and his face flushes. the embarrassment was finally, finally starting to set in now that he’d fucked you and himself out. he braces himself for the teasing, the jokes— and the look on your face.

but you weren’t looking down at dean like he was pathetic, or weak. you never did— and you sure as hell weren’t about to start now, after he’d just shown you every side you’d wanted to see of him.

no, you just smile a little, eyes flicking between dean’s as your thumb grazes on his cheek. he can’t help but lean his head into your palm as you exhale your next words out in a breath—

“that was really fuckin’ hot.”

───────────────────────── 𖤐

you now have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

heyyyyyyy guys… soooo how we doin’? LMFAOOOOOOOO this has got to be the longest i’ve ever spent on a fic (only for dean wbk!)

and i know i said this last time, but on a real note: if you have stayed to the very end— first, THANK YOU FOR READING! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write (again). i would love to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina + i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[killerlookz]

Have You Seen Her Lately? | Joost Klein - Heartbeat! AU

yet another prequel in the heartbeat! au, meant to take place a few days after it can't be that easy (should be read after that part!)

description: joost klein x f! reader- after a messy drunk encounter with Joost and his new girlfriend has left you more heartbroken than you thought was ever possible, a spontaneous text from Joost has you wondering if anything will ever truly be over between you two. | inspired by have you seen her lately by pulp (aka the greatest song of all time i swear)

content: 18+ sexual content, dry humping, angst, hurt/some comfort, cheating, toxic relationship, honestly both reader and joost are kind of the worst in this one (which is why they're made for each other), not proofread

THIS FIC CONTAINS RPF AND HAS BEEN TAGGED AS SUCH, IF YOU ARE HERE YOU SEARCHED FOR IT!

word count: ~7.5k

"So you didn't…" Julie trails off, settling into the back of your sofa, raising an eyebrow as she lifts a flute of cheap Prosecco to her lips.

"Didn't?" You furrow your eyebrows, cocking your head, "Oh god, have sex? No we didn't!"

"Good." She smacks her lips, nodding as swallows down the bubbly liquid. "Did you want to?"

"I don't know…" you think, trying to recall that treacherous night, "I guess I did."

"Wrong answer." Julie shakes her head in clear disappointment.

"Well, I didn't really… I don't know, I was drunk, with a sprained ankle, I don't think it would have been enjoyable anyways."

"Well." Julie pauses, "Even if he didn't try to sleep with you, he's still a dog. I mean, brings his new girlfriend around you and sprains your ankle in the same night, what an asshole!"

"I mean, I guess the ankle thing is sorta both our faults"

"Uh uh" Julie takes another sip from the nearly empty glass, "Nothing is ever your fault, babe. Learn to blame everything on Joost, trust, you'll get over him like that!" She snaps her fingers.

"Well the girlfriend thing is definitely his fault." You concede.

"Did he tell you anything about her?" She perks up, suddenly interested in the potential gossip, "Have you found her instagram? Can I see it? I bet its awful!"

"It didn't come up." You shrug, "I guess your new girlfriend isn't really polite conversation when your ex girlfriend is sitting in your lap."

"I guess not." Julie places the now empty glass onto your coffee table, "Well, now that you got whatever that was out of your system… things really are done right… like really?" Her stare is intense as she asks. You feel almost as if you're on trial, the prosecutor grilling into you, and your life is on the line.

Wow it is not that serious. You try to tell yourself, but you value Julie's opinion, and above all you're embarrassed. The shame eating away at you about how easy it was to fall right back in Joost's arms even after you ended things. Pathetic wasn't a strong enough word for how you felt.

"Right right." You nod fervently, unsure of who you're trying to convince more, her or yourself. "I didn't even mean for whatever that was to happen, just drunk and stupid. It's over."

"Thank god! I mean I love Joost like a brother but…" She rolls her eyes, "I just- I can't! I can't with him right now."

You take a hard look at Julie, noting the lines in her forehead as her eyebrows furrow, the scowl on her face, she really is mad at him, he didn't even do anything to her, why aren't you mad like that? Why can't you be mad like that?

"And you!" Her face softens, "I love you! I love you way more, but please, please promise me you won't entertain this anymore."

"I promise." Your stomach churns as a sheepish grin twits its way onto your lips. You feel as if you've just made a deal with the devil, a promise you can never take back. Betraying your best friend for a boy? That's low.

"Good." Julie pauses to look down at her phone, "Oh well shit!" She sits stiff, straight up, "Didn't notice the time, fuck, I was supposed to meet Anton, for dinner tonight. He said it's important!" She sighs, "I gotta motor, are you gonna be okay, girl? I'm sure he'd understand if I cancel-"

"No, no." You shake your head, "Go! Have fun." You attempt to keep the smile on your face, like it doesn't kill you to know she'll be off having the time of her life with the love of her life, while you're stuck here, heartbreak making you an immovable object on this couch.

That was what frustrated you anyways about your conversations with Julie about your relationship predicament. Her and Anton had been together since they were 15. When she had told you as much the first time you met him you almost couldn't believe it. It all sounded so absurd, being together, with someone, for seven years? Let alone someone you met as a teenager. You could only wish for as much for yourself.

"Ugh, you're the best!" Julie hops off the couch, shimmying over to you, "Remember, Do not text him!"

"I won't." You shake your head, "Swear!" You were only digging yourself deeper.

"Good, Okay I really gotta run, love you!" Julie bends down to place a quick, entirely platonic kiss to your cheek before scurrying out of your apartment before you can even get a word in.

You watch as the apartment door slams shut, leaving you once again in your solitude, the bars on your self inflicted prison cell locked once more.

You should go out. Put on a skimpy little outfit and get free drinks at the bar all night. Go home with an absolute dime piece and try your best to forget about Joost for tonight.

It's tempting, but you know it won't work. You'll try to find him in every man you meet, becoming so frustrated with conversation you can barely listen when they aren't just like him

Part of you had hoped that that night, just a few days ago, when Joost had taken you home upon deciding you were too drunk to be by yourself, you'd be able to remedy the terrible mistake you had made by ever breaking things off with Joost. Of course things were far far from perfect when you were together, but that night, sitting on his lap while you sobbed into his shoulder, even as miserable as you were it was so much more bearable when he was around.

You weren't quite happy either way, what was the point of being unhappy and alone?

Of course, you knew deep down you couldn't go back, couldn't un-break what you had broken. Nothing had been resolved that night. Joost had been kind enough to lay in bed with you until you fell back asleep, a gentle hand on your back was all. You didn't know how long he had really stayed with you that night, but you were certain that he had gone back to the couch almost as soon as you had fallen asleep, as you awoke to an empty bed. A familiar sight these days.

Joost had retained his offer of taking you to urgent care the morning after to get your ankle checked, but you knew a sprain when you felt one- the nausea bubbling in your stomach only added to the agony, not wanting Joost to see you an an even worse state than the one you had been in last night, you just wanted to flee his apartment as fast as you possibly could.

Joost didn't even try to push to get you to stay, or at the very least get your ankle checked, he had just accepted that you wanted to leave with a smile, hugging you goodbye like you were just one of his "boys" complete with a firm tap to your back, it had been nothing like you were used to. "Stay well, okay?" He said as you had exited the building, ready to limp down to the uber that had been waiting outside for you.

Much to your dismay it seemed he was not in the mood for remedying things as you were, he had just been being nice.

You look over at your phone, facing up on the coffee table, uncomfortably void of notifications.

You contemplate picking it up, just getting it over with, texting Joost- what was the worst that could happen? He doesn't respond? It isn't like you aren't already certain you won't be seeing him again.

The temptation looms over you, putting you in a hypnotic state, weak to any form of suggestion. You feel your body slowly pulling forward, like you have no control of yourself, at the mercy of your desperation.

Just as your hand begins to raise, you catch yourself, blinking a few times, what are you crazy?

Stiff, you fall against the back of your couch, and sigh of exasperation leaving your lips. You supposed it was probably another night of takeout and doomscrolling, truly a match made in heaven. Or, more likely hell.

You stare at your phone for a few moments longer, unmoving, unsure of how many more nights like this you could take before you truly went insane.

So lost in your own self pity it almost startles you, even in the warm orange light that bathes your apartment in the final moments of sunlight of the day, the way your phone suddenly glows. It's not something you're used to, having almost entirely shut yourself in since your breakup with Joost.

You sit up, and you can't help but to feel a deep sense of embarrassment at how excited a small little notification has you. It used to be that a day couldn't go by where you didn't feel like you had a million plans, every waking second consumed by the presence of your friends. Now here you were, unable to contain your excitement over one measly notification as you lunge forward to grab your phone. Knowing full well it could be nothing.

But it wasn't nothing.

Nowhere close.

The capital letters of the contact name scream at you: DO NOT TEXT!!!!

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Joost.

Unable to see the message until you unlock your phone, your heart races, anticipation coursing through your veins, nerves trembling as you hold your phone in your shaky hands. What could he possibly want? It feels as if your stomach has fallen straight out of you, the sharp pangs of anxiety making you feel somehow both hollow and heavy.

You tuck your bottom lip behind your front teeth. The floorboards creek beneath you with each rapid tap of your foot.

-hoi! just checking to make sure ur ankle is all guud :)

How endearingly informal. Although you would have much preferred a long, drawn out confession about him still being in love with you, how he will never get over you, begging you to give him a second chance. But you guess you'll take whatever you can get.

Your fingers are almost too fast for your brain, racing to give Joost a response while he's most likely still on the phone.

better! thanks for ask- You can only get so far before you remember your promise to Julie. Not even an hour ago swearing that you and Joost were over, and that you most certainly would not text him. That was much easier said than done when you were under the impression he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.

You're back to staring at your phone, unsure of your next move. Are you really ready to cut things off completely? To never see him again.

But then again do you have to be ready? How often are you truly ready for things before you do them. Almost never, you suppose, but its probably high time that things end here, before they become an even bigger disaster than they already were.

Well, that's no fun.

better! thanks for asking, can finally walk on it now.

You wait eagerly for a response, hoping the adrenaline of purely just getting to talk to Joost is enough to ward of the impending feeling of regret and shame that will inevitably come with not only lying to your best friend, but not even pretending you had the strength to cut Joost off in the first place.

-good :) sorry abt that again

A moment later, another text

-BTW was supposed to get drinks w bruno tn at that bar by ur place, but he cancelled last min, im near u wanna do smthn tn?

A tempting offer.

Your chest thumps, as you anxiously hover your thumbs over the screen, spinning them in small circles as you search for the right words to say. You know you shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't.

But how could you not?

You try your best to seem nonchalant, attempting to not give away the fact that this is really all you had been hoping for the last few days.

do what?

-im almost at the bar now. u wanna come around?

Alcohol and Joost were never a great mix, but you just could not turn him down, despite the glaring alarm bells going off in your head.

sure. can be there round 8, that work?

-perfect :)

***

You aren't as nervous as you expect to be as you approach the bar, perfectly primed for the occasion by having finished off the bottle of Prosecco Julie had brought over earlier while you touched up your makeup.

The building is dark, still early in the night there are people scattered here and there but not a big crowd. Evidently it isn't hard to find Joost, you could spot that mop of blonde hair from a mile away. He's alone, leaned up against the bar, pint glass fit snuggly in his hand, scanning the place, in search of you, you suppose.

Staring straight in his direction it doesn't take long for his eyes to meet yours. A soft smile appearing on his face once his gaze locks onto you, his free hand lifting up to wave you over. You return a polite smile, unsure of what Joost's true motives were behind inviting you out, that polite smile is all you can muster for now.

"Long time no see." The smile lingers on Joost's face as he greets you.

"Well if a week is a long time…"

"Too long to go without seeing you." He chuckles, its sweet, and you can't help but wonder if he's already wasted or if he's really attempting to flirt with you. The smile on his face turns sheepish, and suddenly he's the shy boy he once was when you first met him- taking you back to better times. It somehow quells your nerves, this doesn't need to be as awkward as you have the tendency to make things.

"Did your hair somehow get longer since the last time I saw you?" You reach a hand up to brush the messy strands of blonde out of his face, immediately going for some form of physical contact to put out some feelers for how tonight might go. When Joost doesn't move away you're certain you can put the moves on a little harder, maybe your dreams of somehow reconciling were not so far out of reach.

Its a move you've done time and time again, you almost forget how intimate it is, staring deep into Joost's eyes, strikingly blue, impossible to not be mesmerized by. Seemingly caught off-guard by how attractive you find Joost to be, despite your knowledge on the intricacies of his appearances, you resist the urge to let an I love you roll off the tongue, just as it had so casually many times before as your fingers brush against his blonde locks.

"I know I know," He laughs, "I need a haircut."

"No," You shake your head, "The messy hair suits you." You finally let your hand rest back down at your side.

"Well how can I ever cut my hair now?"

*** It somehow felt as if you and Joost were complete strangers, having a drunken meet-cute as you get to know each other for the very first time, yet simultaneously the night was drenched in nostalgia, the bittersweet of better days looming over each of you. Everything and nothing had changed, attempting to reconcile the breakup of a whirlwind relationship with the niceties of tonight seemed impossible.

There was some trepidation about what was to come next, yet there seemed to be somewhat of an understanding between the two of you about how this night would end. Joost's eyes constantly straying from your gaze to stare at your lips as you talked, you throwing your head back and laughing a little too hard at things that weren't really all that funny, your hands occasionally brushing over his shoulder or outer arm.

It hardly startled you when Joost, who had approached you from behind after returning from the bar, leaned over, his lips dangerously close to your neck as he talked in your ear to be heard over the chatter and music of the now crowded venue,

"How bout I finish this and we head home, hm?" His voice is low, not loud enough to hurt your ears from his proximity to you. His breath tickles your neck, causing you to shiver slightly, goosebumps forming on your skin. Head home.

"Mmm" You hum, pursing your lips, "Yeah sure," You turn your head, a slight smirk tugging at your lips, as you look behind you, Joost still very much intruding on your personal space. Of course, you don't mind much.

You've never quite seen someone finish a beer so fast in your life, but by now the tension of the night is wearing heavy on the both of you and you're racing to get back to your apartment so you can finally break it.

"Shit." Your keys fall from a shaky hand as you attempt to open your front door. The intoxication and anticipation clearly making a mess of your motor skills. They hit the ground with an irritating sharp jingle, and you lean over to pick them up, accidentally bumping Joost who stands behind you as you bend down.

"Wo-hoa save that for inside," He chuckles,

"Oh shut up." You scoff, but its all very lighthearted, and a much needed confirmation of what was to come.

Finally, you manage to shove your keys into the lock, nearly falling into your apartment as you open the door.

Joost follows closely behind, closing the door behind him with a thud.

"So…" He starts, suddenly freezing up like you hadn't done this a million times before, his eyes shifting around the apartment.

"So what, turning shy on me now?" You bite the inside of your cheeks as you attempt to meet his shifting gaze, was he having second thoughts.

"N-no I- no I just haven't been here in awhile," He blinks a few times, clearly trying to push away whatever it was that he was feeling.

"Oh," You furrow your eyebrows, looking down at the floor, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Sorry," He chuckles, "Did I kill the mood?"

A smirk suddenly appearing on your face as you look back up at Joost,

"Not at all."

"Good," He smiles back, finally stepping fully into the apartment, "Where were we…"

"I think…" You start, cheeks getting hot, thinking about what was to come, you can hardly make eye contact with Joost now, maybe you were the one getting shy.

Too lost in your brief fantasies about where things would go next, you'd hardly realized how close Joost had gotten to you, too fingers pressing under your chin, beckoning you to look up at him.

"Here?" He asks, hovering over you, his lips just barely about to graze yours.

"Yes here."

It isn't long before he's kissing you, really kissing you, not those short, pity shoulder kisses he had been giving you as you cried to him the other night. This was deep, hot, romantic even? Any moment now you were certain you'd be waking up, that this was nothing but a dream to be ripped away from you right as you got to the best part.

But it continued, low hums of content vibrate through the kiss. You can't get enough, lifting yourself up on your tip-toes to shove yourself further into the kiss, feeling your movements beginning to get sloppy as the two of you are finally overcome with pure, carnal desire.

Your legs wobble from your position on your toes, and Joost's hands come to your back to keep you stable. His touch so familiar, his hands knowing your flesh even better than you knew yourself.

"I've got you." He mumbles.

You were so easy, three simple words of reassurance driving you insane. But as strong as his grip on you is, your calves strain trying to keep to his height, and you're more than certain this position isn't great for him either.

You pull away, "Couch?" Voice slightly horse.

Joost leans back, and you finally plant your heels on the floor,

"Ja, ja, lets."

Your fingers graze Joost's tattooed knuckles, intertwining with his, tugging harshly as you rush to pull him over to the couch, eager to get your lips back on his.

"H-hey, I'm not going anywhere" He laughs.

"Am I moving too fast?" You stop dead in your tracks, worrying you're taking things too far too quickly.

"We'll move as fast as you want," An earnest smile on Joost's face as he closes the arm length distance between the two of you, your fingers still interlocked with his.

"Like the sound of that." Your voice barely a mumble.

You're nearly pushing Joost onto the couch, but he seems just as, if not more eager than you as he grabs you by your wrists, pulling you down to sit on his lap. The fabric of his jeans is rough beneath your skin, your skirt rolling up as you straddle Joost's waist, exposing bare thighs. Joost wastes no time getting his hands on you, his fingers trailing up the flesh now visible by your bunched up skirt. It's hard not to let out an immediate moan as the pads of Joost's fingers dig into the supple skin of your thighs, its been so long since you've been touched at all, much less touched like this.

You feel your muscles tense, flexing as you push yourself forward into Joost, almost involuntarily, your most primal urges taking control of you in order to get exactly what you want. You place a hand on Joost's chest, stabilizing yourself as you lean forward to let your lips meet his once again.

Joost's hands leave your thighs, now firmly placed around your waist, holding you to him, any movement of your hips at mercy to his grasp. You waste no time with polite pecks to Joost's lips, instead, immediately resuming to hot, wet, open mouth kisses.

It feels lethally hot in your small living room, and you almost can't wait to shed some of your clothes off. Of course, however, the anticipation of good sex was almost as enjoyable as the real thing and it was not worth rushing the passion of a moment like this.

You arch your back, digging your hips into Joost's, feeling the large metallic buckle on his belt dig into your lower stomach. You gasp slightly, savoring the friction from the rough seam of his jeans below the thin lace of your panties. You let your hand trail from Joost's chest to the back of his neck, pressing your palm into him as you do so, to really feel him under you. You wrap your other arm around his neck so you can fully embrace him, wanting to close every gap between the two of you.

As Joost's palms dig into your sides he drags your hips backwards, once again making you aware of the friction you so desperately need. By now it's obvious that Joost is growing hard beneath you, the already sturdy fabric of his jeans growing stiffer as he once again guides your hips forward.

"Don't be shy," Joost mumbles, tilting his head back ever so slightly to pull back from the kiss so he can get a word in, "Move those hips."

Which is what you would do if it wasn't for the sound of Joost's ringtone suddenly interrupting the moment. You sit up, Joost's grip on you suddenly becoming weak, and then non existent as he awkwardly shuffles with you still on top of him to take his phone from his back pocket.

You watch Joost's face, you ponder if he was really going to take a call at a time like this,

"Shit, shit. I'm sorry," He fumbles with the phone in his hands, his face twitches once the screen glows in his face, eyelids blinking rapidly, "Sorry," He chuckles, before a sigh falls from his lips as he quickly silences his phone, placing it face down on the couch.

"No its-" You cut yourself off, eyes trailing over to where he had put his phone down before whipping your head back to look at him, "Was that important? Who was it?"

"No, nothing. Don't worry about it, pretty, come here." A smirk pressed to his lips as his hands find their way back to your hips, ready to return back to your previous activities.

You let the slight interruption go, just as eager to move things along that you don't care to press about his social life.

You don't meet Joost's lips this time as you lean forward, instead pressing languid kisses to his jaw. Theres a slight stubble on his chin, tickling you as you nuzzle against him.

You continue your kisses, egged on by Joost's heavy breathing, the way his chest rises and falls below you mixed with the sparse groans you illicit from him as you lick over the right spots. Joost seems almost desperate to feel you against him once more, strong hands nearly forcing you back against the bulge in his jeans. Of course you can't complain, the now slick fabric of your panties separating him from your clit so flimsy you're sure you're getting much more pleasure from this than he possibly could be.

"God," You groan, rocking forward, your fingers gripping at the hair that falls at the back of his neck. You dip lower, your tongue licking a stripe up the throbbing artery in his neck, tasting his skin. You attach your lips to the pulse point, placing a small kiss to his flesh before opening your mouth wider, a sloppier kiss now before pressing your teeth to the fluttering vein, hollowing your cheeks to suck at the skin.

You feel Joost's hands suddenly grip into your arms, firm, pushing back, practically ripping you from your spot against him,

"Woah, kijk uit," (watch it) He attempts to laugh but there's a genuine concern in his voice.

Your eyes widen, like a deer in headlights what did you do?

"Huh," You breathe out, clearly bewildered, your eyes roam his figure, what did you do? You think for a moment, as Joost's hands finally loosen on you, dropping to his sides,

"I'm sorry- just,-"

"Oh my god," You feel your heart drop down to your stomach, any arousal immediately leaving your body, he was worried you'd leave a mark, "It was her that called wasn't it?" Accusation rich in your voice as you stare deep into his eyes.

"What?" Joost furrows his eyebrow, his voice stepping up a few pitches, you can't tell if he's genuinely confused or if he's attempting to feign innocence.

"Your girlfriend, you dog!" You climb off of Joost, your backside hitting the couch much harder than you had intended. It was funny, Lina hadn't even crossed your mind, Joost had been putting on the moves almost the second you two locked eyes tonight, perhaps you figured that sometime between now and the last time you saw him they had broken up.

As horribly as you had wanted him, you never really meant any of that stuff you had said to Julie the other night about wanting to homewreck a relationship. It wasn't fair, as much resentment as you held towards Lina, you don't think you could really go through with this knowing there was another girl in the picture. All you could think, what if Joost had done that to you?

"Was it?!" You ask again, harsher now, practically begging for the confirmation.

Joost can hardly make eye contact with you now, barely raising his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Yeah- I-"

"You what, Joost? At what point were you going to tell me that you were using me to cheat on your girlfriend?" Any intimacy that had preceded this moment was lost, it all feeling like a complete lie now. Here you were thinking that perhaps this was finally a chance for you to right your wrongs, to make things work with Joost- when apparently he was searching for nothing of the sort.

"Using? I wasn't- I thought you knew?" He seems just as confused as you are, like you should just find this no big deal, "I thought you wanted this?" And the thing is, he's right, you wanted this. Maybe it was your bad for assuming that by attempting to hook up with you Joost was confirming that what he had with Lina was over. How could you have known?

"Being the other woman, is not what I wanted." You cross your arms, and bring your knees to your chest, wanting to just curl up and die right here on the couch.

"It that what you think you'll be?" Joost asks, the confusion draining from his voice, truly just asking now.

"What else do you call the woman you hook up with outside your relationship?" You turn to face away from Joost, closing yourself off from him.

"You're not- fuck" You can't see his body language as you stare at the wall now, your mind reeling, just trying to process all of this- any hope of you and Joost getting better now completely ripped from you, but you can hear the nerves in his voice, unable to tell if they're coming from genuine regret or solely because he got caught.

You bite your lip, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over your waterline, eyelids fluttering rapidly to try to suppress the small droplets from cascading down your face.

"I just- I thought-" You inhale, feeling yourself about to cry, exhale, "I thought you wanted to see me because you missed me."

"Please-" He pauses, voice strained, "I didn't mean to mislead you, you saw us together."

"God, Joost, why would I have assumed you two were still together after you kissed me." It seemed so simple to you, "Why would I have ever assumed you to be some sort of cheater?"

The room is silent for a moment, save from you sniffling, still attempting to stifle a sob, not ready to cry in front of Joost again.

"I just, I guess, didn't expect you to think anything highly of me." You hear him breathe in deeply, "Het spijt me, you seemed so upset the other night because of me, so I just, I wanted to make you feel better."

You blink a few times, still refusing to turn your heard towards Joost, you can't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"By making me a one-night stand?" You furrow your eyebrows, voice becoming accusatory.

"No- god, nonono, I wasn't even planning on that, I just wanted to catch up, but then, you seemed like you wanted to… so then I wanted to… and I wasn't even thinking I just, I let it happen." Joost's words are rushed, jumbled, like each syllable, each sound is racing out of his mouth.

"That's the problem," You huff, "Isn't it, Joost, you don't think."

"I just never know what you want." He stops for a moment, "I mean- I think I know and I do it, and I am always wrong."

"So this is my fault…" You trail off, confused at what he's attempting to get at, "You thought I wanted you to cheat on Lina with me? That's why you did it. Thought I'd get some satisfaction from that?"

"This wasn't about her, it was for you, I wanted to see you. I didn't leave my apartment with the intent to do that tonight, but what I told you was true, Bruno cancelled, when I realized I was in the area, I had to at least try to see you."

"But it is about her Joost, you cheated, you were going to cheat, it was so easy for you, and I just can't stop thinking, what if you had did it to me?" A tear finally rolls down you cheek, unable to convince yourself any longer of Joost's presumed innocence. Had Joost ever "not thought" when it had come to you? Just let it slip his mind that he had someone waiting up for him, and got into bed with another woman.

"No, don't say that," He sounds defeated now, "I couldn't do that to you, I thought I was going to marry you, how could I do that to you?"

"But you could do this." You try to maintain your demeanor, not wanting to give into Joost's words of reassurance, giving into the cycle that had ruined your relationship to begin with, perhaps there really was no saving it now. But it's hard not to fold, to be reminded of how much you meant, or do mean to him.

"I swear-" He pleads, "I'll call her, I'll break it off, please if it just gets you to look at me."

You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek.

"No," you let your head hang, "No, no don't do that right now." You shake your head, unsure of where to go from here. You slowly uncross your arms, and finally turn to look at Joost, who seems visibly shaken, his chin quivers slightly, eyes blinking rapidly. He really did seem torn up about this.

You stare at each other in silence for a few moments, both of you hesitant to make the first move. You take in his appearance, timid, distraught, hardly the careless heartbreaker you had been making him out to be. Perhaps you had been wrong too, too quick to anger, too quick to conclusions, you're left stumped, trying to figure out what to make of all this, what to make of each other.

"Will this ever stop?" Your voice wavers, worried about the future for the two of you, worried that the only way to stop the arguing and toxicity between you is to never see each other again. No matter how hard each of you tried, it never seemed to work, your emotions too deep, too intense to ever think rationally when you were around each other.

Joost doesn't answer, and the room remains silent. It's not a comforting silence, no, it eats away at you, every second that passes consuming you with guilt and fear for the future, fear that this may once again be the last time you see Joost. You figured it would have to get to a point, you thought it already had after you had broken up with him. But that's why you broke up with him, knowing at least if you really wanted to you'd have some control over reaching out and talking to him again. If it had been Joost who ended things, who knows? Maybe he would have had a stronger will than you, maybe he wouldn't be so willing to have you around.

Finally Joost speaks,

"You know I love you, right? I mean, whatever happens next, I don't know- just, I love you."

You're nearly brought to tears again, and you wonder if its possible to love someone too much.

"I love you too." You blink away the tears from your eyes, sighing, "I'm so tired." You mean it in every sense of the word, you're drained, physically, mentally, fed up. But most literally you can feel your eyelids growing heavy.

"Why don't you lay down?" Joost asks, scooting over on the couch to give you space, patting next to him.

"Yeah- yeah I should." You nod, slipping off your shoes before curling up in the couch. You're far from comfortable, still in your clothes from the bar, feeling forced to make yourself as small as possible to not take up Joost's space.

"You want to watch some TV?" He asks once more, hesitance in his voice, like he's unsure of his place now.

"Sure," Voice hoarse, "Put on whatever."

The light of the television sears your already stinging eyes, Joost flips through the channels until he finds something that vaguely peaks his interest, your mediocre Dutch making it so you only understood about half of what was being said. When you and Joost had been together, when you'd watch something in Dutch together, or his friends were having a conversation in Dutch in front of you Joost would always lean over to you when he noticed you seemed confused, quietly explaining in your ear what was going on or what was said. But perhaps sensing the mood, Joost made no effort to explain what was happening on the television now. Not that it mattered, feeling as if you wouldn't be able to keep your eyes open much earlier to pay attention anyways.

You squrim in your spot on the couch, unable to get comfortable in the clothes you're in, but unwilling to get up to change.

"Joo?" Your voice is small, quiet, peaking your up from its spot on the couch cushions.

"Ja?" He asks, turning his head towards you.

"Can I have your shirt?"

"The one I'm wearing?" He seems confused, but you simply nod, not in the mood for much speaking. "Sure, I guess." He shrugs before beginning to pull at the collar, lifting it over his head.

If you'd been less tired perhaps you'd spend more time musing at Joost's half naked body, the tattoos that litter his soft skin, just how inviting and at home he looks returning to his relaxed position on your couch.

"Alles goed?" He asks, handing you the plain white T-shirt he had been wearing. You hum in response, content as you sit up from your curled state.

Still sitting, you turn away from Joost, not that you really cared if he were to see you changing, and not like he couldn't see you now. But you assumed perhaps some modesty was needed in this very moment. You lift the shirt you had been wearing over your head, letting it drop to the floor, before discarding your bra in that same pile. You slip the shirt Joost had given you on, you inhale, smells like him. The familiar scent invades your senses, overwhelmed as if he wasn't sitting right next to you. Its reminiscent of the many of times you had found yourself with your face buried in Joost's neck or chest, nuzzling against him, taking in the smell of him, it was comforting, the reminder of the presence of someone you love dearly.

You shimmy out of your skirt, letting that too, fall to the ground before lifting your legs back onto the couch in an attempt to actually get comfortable this time around. You turn towards Joost, who, evidently had been staring at you this entire time.

"Watching me change?" A small giggle escaping your mouth, it was all you could really muster, "Pervert." You smirk

"Well I'll take your little smile as you don't want to kill me that much anymore." He jokes.

"Well," You sigh, "Yeah, you're lucky its hard to hate you when you're half undressed on my couch."

"Mhmm" Joost nods, "I do recall taking off our clothes is how we used to end most arguments." You know he just means to be funny as he says it, but it stings just a little, knowing your arguments were such a memorable part of your relationship.

You roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. You lower yourself back to the couch, not trying as hard to squeeze yourself onto the opposite end, but you still give Joost his space, unsure of the etiquette for the moment.

You fixate your eyes back on the television, more so staring through it than actually look at it before your eyelids become to heavy for your to keep trying to keep them up, sleep quickly overtaking you.

***

You stir slightly, eyelids fluttering as you slowly slip back into consciousness. As your vision adjusts you find you're no longer on your couch, instead in your bedroom, laying in bed.

"Did I wake you?" You're startled by the sudden voice, forgetting Joost had been with you when you fell asleep. You notice he's standing at the end of the bed, comforter in his hands.

"I think so." You concede, voice groggy, unaware of how long you had been out.

"Sorry," He chuckles, "Thought the bed would probably be more comfortable for you."

"It's okay," You give a slight smile, appreciative of the small gesture.

"Do you want me to go?" He asks, as he pulls the comforter over your chest, tucking you in.

"Would you stay?" Your voice is meek, still uneasy about asking such a thing of a man who is technically in a relationship.

"Of course," He nods, smile on his face.

"Lay with me?" You pat the mattress next to you, forgoing your morals at least just for tonight, unsure, unwilling to wake up to an empty bed for another night. Joost nods, walking around to the other side of the bed. You roll over onto your side, watching his movements.

His belt clinks as he begins to undo the buckle before sliding the thick black leather out of the loops of his jeans. You continue to watch as Joost fumbled with the button of his jeans in the dark of your room, the glow of a crescent moon and warm orange street lamps the only light entering your windows. Joost slips his jeans down his thighs, kicking them off to the side as they hit his ankles.

Joost places two hands on the mattress, leaning over before he crawls into bed with you. It all feels so familiar, as if this was just another night you were spending together. But of course, you know its not, the constant threat of how easily things crumbled between you two looming over you. You were sure Joost would return to Lina in the morning, perhaps doing some careful explaining as to why he had been ignoring her calls, after he realizes that this has all just been some great mistake but tonight, tonight he was yours.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before Joost reaches an arm out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb,

"This is nice," He smiles, reaching his fingers to the back of your head, tangling them in your hair.

"I agree." closing your eyes as you enjoy the gentle massage of Joost's fingers against the back of your head for a moment before speaking again, "Would you hold me?"

"Yes," Joost's fingers slip from your hair, "Natuurlijk, (of course), come here." He holds out his arm, ready to embrace you.

You turn to your other side, so your back is to Joost's chest, he wraps a firm arm around your waist, making sure you're pulled against him tight, just as you wanted. His breath tickles your neck with each deep exhale, he seems tired too.

"Wish things could be just like this forever." Your voice is slow, low, just above a mumble, you're just thinking out loud.

"I know, I know" Joost coos, placing a quick kiss just behind your ear, "I'm so sorry, lief meisje." (sweet girl) giving no reassurance that they ever would be, just a concession that he too was mourning what could have been. You can't blame him for not giving you the assurance you desired, knowing how fast things went from bliss to disaster, but you could be glad that at the very least you and Joost seemed to be on the same page, that you still loved each other, that you still regret how things turned out. And that was good enough, for now.

"Please don't leave before morning," You plead softly, "I don't want to wake up alone again."

"I'll be right here, promise."

With that, you can truly relax into his touch, enjoying the gentle reassurance it gave you. Despite everything that has happened, and that may happen in the future, at least he was here now, what more could you really ask for? Tomorrow didn't matter quite yet, figuring you'd cross that bridge when you got there, but tonight, Joost is yours, and you can pretend as if nothing had ever changed, as if this was just another night shared between the two of you.

"Goodnight Joost." You sigh, nuzzling your cheek into the pillows, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you) a small, content smile pressed to your lips, remembering how much Joost had loved it when you, at least, attempted to speak Dutch with him, especially when it was something sweet. You hear Joost chuckle lowly before he speaks too,

"Goodnight, schat." He lifts his head slightly to press a kiss to your cheek, "Slaap lekker, ik hou ook van jou."

[amya-da-dp]

thinking about how different things would have been if Viren had actually used Sorens heart for the spell in the Sol Regem attack.

Fist we have Soren. How did he convince his father to do it? Maybe he let Viren do it, gripping his father’s arm to steady him, accepting his fate. But if he couldn’t convince his father to do it? Maybe he did it himself; raising his own sword, looking Viren in the eye, and making the choice for him. What were his last words? Were they convincing his father to do it, ‘you have to, do whats right for once in your life’ Or maybe he didn’t say anything at all. Maybe he just smiled, making sure the last thing his father saw was that Soren didn’t hate him for it. Did he spend the last seconds of his life thinking about his loved ones he was leaving behind? He thinks of everyone as he draws his sword, thinking of them happy and safe, concentrating on that for strength. As he feels the blade pierce his skin he thinks of everyone hes leaving behind, everything hes loosing, but he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s happy that his friend’s family will be ok, even if it means they have to be ok without him.

Then we have Viren, obviously him sacrificing himself was character development and i personally really like that he truly became a better person, not forgivable, but better and we saw this by him sacrificing himself and no one even ever finding out. In canon, Viren’s sacrifice was almost poetic; redemption in the shadows, something no one would ever know. Now that thats out of the way, how would using Sorens heart affect Viren? Did he have any last words to Soren? “I… I never wanted this.” or “You were always so much stronger than I realized.” or maybe he says nothing; maybe he can’t speak because his own son is dying in his arms. How did he take Sorens heart? By using his own sons sword? Soren draws his sword silently either shoving it into Virens arms or taking care of it himself. Did he take his own life as well after the spell was completed? Maybe. If not immediately, then eventually. A man like Viren, who was so focused on taking care of his family he destroyed them, wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of that decision forever. If he lives, even for a short time after all of this, he finally understands the price of power. Maybe he just walks away, a broken man, carrying the weight of what he did.

and last we have how everyone else reacted.

Claudia: Maybe she never finds out the truth, Aaravos hides it from her, or forms some kind of twisted lie. Maybe she’s told by Aaravos that Soren died fighting Sol Regem. Shes absolutely shattered. Losing Soren alone would be devastating, but if she knew Viren was responsible? That could go one of two ways: She completely turns on Viren, no longer seeing him as her family. or, the more likely one. She convinces herself it was necessary and doubles down on dark magic, becoming even more ruthless. Trying to make Sorens sacrifice ‘mean’ something.

Corvus: He isn’t the kind of man to cry easily, but he would for Soren. Not just a quiet cry, an absolute gut wrenching cry. People have to physically check if hes breathing ok, his cry is so painful. Because Soren wasn’t just another fallen soldier: he was a friend, his closest friend, someone who deserved so much more than what he got. And I think, more than anything, Corvus would make sure Soren was remembered. Not as Viren’s son, not as the ‘musclehead’ of Katolis, but as the man who was brave, kind, and ultimately, a hero.

Ezran: he would probably grieve the loss in his own quiet way, after a huge breakdown, but I imagine this would harden him as a ruler. He stops letting people be closer to him. Not only was Soren his friend, and trusted guard, but he was Ezrens older brother.

Callum: Soren was one of his closest friends. Callum would be furious at Viren, probably even at Claudia if she defended him. Callum probably feels like he could have saved him. He wishes he could have been there to stop Viren, to convince Soren there was another way. Hell, maybe even sacrifice himself, using his magic to combat the dragon before the battle ever starts.

Rayla: He was a idiot, but he was her idiot. She suspects something’s off. When she finds out the truth, she would hate Viren in a way she never had before. She would spend forever tracking him down, and making sure he is dead, never stopping until she has confirmation. Viren took another family member from her. He took her older brother, she won’t rest until she knows hes gone. A part of her would convince herself that she hated Soren himself, once she knew it was his decision. How could he leave them? how could he choose this? but of course she can never hate him, he had a kind heart and sacrificed himself to save so many lives. Rayla just wishes she could save his life.

[beartes22]

I think you are thinking way too well about how people behave with those that were 'high' and had fallen.

I would like to think his reputation is a joke a NOBLE SON ñowering to their level??? Nope, cant see It BUT that one Guy Who defended that other Guy Who raised their dead (like,,, ur grandmother and ur Lil brother and ur drunk auntie) to fight for him and break their bodies and remains w/o asking/worry/consideration/some godamnnrespect so so so much that he was expelled from the "we are moral and above you" sect???

They are throwing him cabbages in the streets whumpbby. Rotten cabbages too, bc he is not good enough for fresh produce.

(my references is 1)people in mzds have never been benign to the little guy with no giant social hierarchy to fall to, 2)historically, if a noble is publically and loudly renounced by other nobles people reject then worse and would happily linch then and 3) this is a noble people can pour all their grievances upon and there Will be no! None!! Nothing!! Consequences bc of It. Believe me one a single person realices they can be mean to lan zhan and not be publically and "righteously" executed by the lan sect, a lot of people are....gonna be mean to lan zhan, to put It simply.)

(It also does not help that lan zhan is so obvioulsy neurodivergent. Bc! Look!!! Thats a difference!!! Do u know what mobs like to do to people Who are noticiebly, undeaniably, helplessly different??)

...is this an excuse for jc to save lz? Bc he obvioulsy could not afford to protect wwx but this Guy? JC can spare a few moments to save lwj from some angry villagers, its no skin off his back. He might even do It a couple of times. Would lan zhan be grateful? No! Of course not!! He would be all the more grateful for It!!! Would JC unwillingly become his only Ally in the world bc of this? Why yes! So this Will be a enemies to lovers slowburn 40k fic.

(also how well does lxc bear that his didi IS being torn apart by the common man? That could start some...resentment lets say. How does jgy plays his poor meow meow to his swron brother when his drama with nmj is so last season and also he is obvioslu so good at people unlike *gasps* the real didi??? what does JC think of lonely abandoned lan zhan?? Does he sees wwx in him, so torn apart and denounced, or does he sees another version of himself, one that protected his brother no Matter what?? Alone and humiliated and without sect or allies or objetive in Life. A shame to his sect. A failure but!!! Righteous. Does he regret 'turning his back' to wwx? Does he feels justified?? IS nhs following the lwj drama like a small community follows a disastrous divorce? You bet your ass he is. IS nmj trying to fish lwj like an angey kitten to put him back to his sect and stop this foolishness for his erdi?? Yeah he is. It isnt going very well.)

You know what?

Lan Zhan is mostly so frustrating as a character to me, because making him interesting and giving him a character arc would be so easy and it wouldn't even require changing his character or the overarching story!

Solution:

Have the Lan kick him out after he took the lashes for Wei Wuxian. No seclusion, straight up blacklisting from the properties.

That will reinforce:

A. That actions thaken in good faith result in unfairly harsh consequences.

B. That Lan are a strict sect that will stick to their rules to their own detriment.

C. That Lan Wangji took on an actual risk by trying to save WWX and it cost him more than he was ready to pay. Everyone lost in WWX's gamble.

Have him be a rogue cultivator that has spent thirteen years trying to earn the right of returning to his sect and family - and that's the reason he's where the chaos is, the reason he's known outside of Gusu and sticking to their creed to the letter. It would give him a valid personal reason to resent Jiang Cheng, because in his eyes JC didn't lose as much as him for doing much less.

It would give him internal conflict separate from WWX - does he want to go back to the sect that abandoned him? Does he want to go back to the sect he doesn't believe in anymore? Can he even allow himself to stop believing in the Rules and their utility - because if he stops, what's left for him? He'll be alone in the world that doesn't understand him and won't allow him to grieve the man he loved. Hell, have him question his decision to help WWX and come to no definite answer.

Give him a crisis of faith when he's one step away from returning to the sect and his brother, and his uncle, and that's when Wei Wuxian comes back into his life.

And the choice placed in front of him suddenly has weight. Does he go back to the sect, something he has been working towards for years? Does he abandon the only light in the darkness of his post-war life, that kept him going through the worst times for a man that died over a decade ago? Can he abandon the chance to get back to his beloved brother who breaks law by speaking to him a few times a year?

Or does he choose Wei Wuxian? Choose him in the way he didn't before, this time with his eyes open and aware of the consequences? Does he break away from the sect that killed his mother and broke his father with their unbent, heartless adherence to the Rules? Can he go back to that life after knowing freedom?

And WWX will do okay without him, it's quite obvious he can just live his dream of being a rogue cultivator with ease.

But Lan Zhan won't do well without Wei Wuxian - because WWX was the symbol of freedom for him from the first meeting. Freedom to feel and to act, and to follow his heart.

And he chooses WWX, knowing that he won't be able to go back home - accepting that the home he remembers only ever fit him when he made himself smaller for it. You can never go back home etc.

And that closes the thread of generational trauma for these two - the thread of crappy 'parents/elders' straddling their kids with their own issues.

Coincidentally, that would merge beautifully with WWX's plight - both of them leaving previous lives symbolised by their brothers, that are appropriately opposite in character to suite their specific emotional baggage;)

[chrkrose]

Just wanted to say that I completely agreed with your Sunrise take. It's almost as though you plucked it out of my brain and put it in words.

Its a shame that the Maysilee/Haymitch ship has been struck down so explicitly. I can't see the ship being popular now without fans claiming that we've 'missed the whole point'.

I also agreed with your take about Lenore: to me, she's far too similar to Lucy Gray for me to care about her in her own right and that's a shame.

I'm interested to see if you have any other thoughts since I enjoyed your first post a lot.

More thoughts on SOTR, Maysilee and Maysilee/ Haymitch.

I mean… I have issues with several aspects of Sunrise on the Reaping (SOTR), honestly. Like, the way the book handles its themes is just so on the nose. It lacks the subtlety Suzanne used to have. One of the biggest appeals of the original trilogy was that Katniss wasn’t a chosen one—she wasn’t special, she wasn’t trying to be a rebel, she was just surviving. And now suddenly we’re rewriting that entire foundation to make her destiny feel preordained? Add in all the fan service, which felt so Marvel-level with its cameos and callbacks, and yeah… I struggled with a lot of it.

The Maysilee stuff—and the Maysilee/Haymitch potential—is just one example in a list of things that didn’t work for me, but it’s a great one to highlight what went wrong.

First off, my gripe with Maysilee and Haymitch isn’t even just that they weren’t romantic. Sure, I do think a romantic storyline would’ve added more depth and been more compelling, but what really bugs me is the way people jump to that “not every relationship needs to be romantic!!” discourse like it’s some mic drop moment. And like—yeah, of course not every bond has to be romantic. The series already gives us beautiful platonic relationships, so what are you truly saying here? I always feel like that argument has a bit of a misogynistic edge, like romance automatically weakens a story or a character. That it’s less serious or important just because it’s “girly” or emotional. It’s the reverse of the people who think romance is the only thing that matters—it’s still minimizing, just from another angle.

Personally, I think a romantic connection between Maysilee and Haymitch could have added a lot to the story. Not because romance is inherently better, but because it would’ve allowed us to actually see the relationship develop. Imagine Haymitch having to confront and dismantle his class prejudices toward her. Imagine the layers that would add to his trauma, to his choices, to the person he becomes. That arc would’ve felt way more grounded than suddenly introducing Lenore Dove—a character who feels like a Lucy Gray copy-paste—and expecting us to accept her as the Great Love of Haymitch’s life.

And look, I’m a sucker for a good love story. I would have eaten it up so fast if this was a good one. But it simply wasn’t. There was no tension, no buildup, no spark. Just symbolism on top of symbolism, and a girl who was written to be “quirky” and “different” and important, but never felt real. She was too mythical, too much, too “main girl who haunts the narrative” without earning that weight. At least Lucy Gray had quirks and nuance. Lenore just felt like Suzanne ticking boxes: rebel, covey, singer, poet attached to her name, dead too soon. And I’m sorry, but having Haymitch still pining for his 16-year-old girlfriend decades later, when we barely get to see him reflect on his family or his fellow tributes? At least give space to his mother and brother, to the tributes he bonded with, to all the people he lost along the way.

And that’s what really bothers me. Suzanne always trusted her readers to come to their own conclusions. She showed us dynamics—Katniss and Peeta, Finnick and Katniss, Johanna and Peeta, even Katniss and Gale—and let us interpret. She never had to spell out who these people were to each other. But it seems like she didn’t trust that when it comes to Maysilee and Haymitch, and to Lenore and Haymitch as well. Suddenly we were told what to feel, how to perceive every relationship. And that just doesn’t land for me. It actually undermines the emotional weight because it feels like she didn’t trust the story to stand on its own.

And if the whole idea was to subvert expectations and say “Surprise! Everything you thought you knew about Haymitch’s Games is actually propaganda,” then… I don’t know. That twist didn’t work for me either. It didn’t enhance the themes, it just made me feel, again, like I wasn’t capable enough to reach conclusions on my own. For a book who speaks of propaganda, she sure tried to determine how we would interact with it without room for anything else.

Now, about Maysilee herself—she would’ve worked so much better as the ghost in Haymitch’s narrative. Platonic or romantic, an ambiguous bond between her and Haymitch had more potential than what we got. The Capitol downplaying her role would’ve tied beautifully with Haymitch’s later manipulation of the Katniss/Peeta narrative. She mirrors both of them in ways Lenore doesn’t: she’s a merchant girl like Peeta, she’s got Katniss’ fire, and her pin—her pin—becomes the ultimate symbol of rebellion. She painted the final poster. Not to mention the quiet tragedy of him having to see her twin sister around town for the rest of his life. That’s the kind of subtle, haunting storytelling that would’ve worked.

But instead, they stripped all that from her to give it to Lenore, and in the process, even Katniss’ story gets hurt. Because now, Katniss isn’t just a girl who stumbled into something bigger than herself—now she’s been chosen since the beginning. Which removes one of the most powerful things about her arc: the idea that regular people, caught in the right place at the right time, can change the world.

Lucy Gray worked as a ghost in Snow’s story. Maysilee should’ve been that for Haymitch. But unfortunately, all that depth, all that symbolism, was handed to a character who didn’t earn it and who honestly just didn’t deliver the emotional payoff Suzanne thought she would.

[waystostay]

Catch you if you fall, I mean it.

this is just pure word vomit from a while ago, reader is adoptive miya. pls don't think too much abt grammar. timeskip au. wc: 7.6k tw: alcohol and marijuana use.

Suna had always known you. Ever since high school, actually middle school maybe. He can’t quite place exactly when he met you but being his best friends’ adopted sister, you were kind of always there. You both went to college in different places. You went to a whole new country actually. Those 4 years meant you weren't as present, so he didn't really know much of what was going in your life, didn't even follow you on Instagram either. The only times he saw you then were an occasional hi on FaceTime with your brother or a smile and hello at your house during breaks. Basically, he had always known you. He just doesn't know when he became painfully obsessed with you.

Was it the beach trip you all took last summer? Was it seeing you in the waterfall wet hair stuck down the curve of your spine? He would be sitting a few feet away from you awestruck as you toweled off. What had the cotton towel done to deserve gliding down your body? Why doesn't he have that right?

Was it the halloween party where you got too drunk and danced under the lights of the club in your tiny costume? The gleam of your smile as you laughed with your friends or maybe the drops of liquor falling into your cleavage as you downed shot after shot.

He knew it was a problem when all he could look at New Year's Eve was how pretty the fireworks looked reflected in your eyes.

It was a regular week for you, but he was losing his mind. He’d been staying with you and Osamu for the past week while JNT sorted out his housing for the next couple months in Tokyo. He felt privileged to be able to watch you go about the mundane parts of your life. Your door would be open and he’d steal glances at you doing your makeup or skincare. He’d walk by while you were fast asleep taking your midday nap. His favorite were the nightly smoke sessions. Sometimes it would be you, him, and Osamu other times, like tonight, Atsumu and Kiyoomi would join, even Kita-san.

He watched as you placed the joint delicately between your lips and lit the tip taking a deep inhale. You passed it off to Atsumu, blowing out the smoke in his direction. Kiyoomi was talking about something but he was only half-listening, pretending to scroll on his phone occasionally stealing glances at you.

“Oh, by the way guys, Eita invited me to a show.” You said taking the joint from Kita. “He’s in Tokyo and he DM’ed me.”

Suna’s head snapped up at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. Who was Eita? Did you have a boyfriend? He looked around and apparently everyone else was as confused as him. “Who the fuck’s Eita?” Atsumu said furrowing his eyebrows and snatching the lighter from Kiyoomi.

You gave a very deadpan look, “Eita, you know, from college.” “That provides so little answers, s’not like we went to college with you.” Osamu said frowning. “Did you mention him before?”

“Do either of you ever even listen to me when I fucking talk, I was obsessed with him sophomore year.” Suna would have listened to you. “You know Eita my ex something or other?” You said getting slightly annoyed.

“You have an ex?” Kita asked blowing out smoke. You have an ex? He’s still talking to you? Does he still want you? Does he want you as much as Suna does? He feels like if it’s a competition he would win. “I’m just as fuckin confused.” Osamu said frowning at you.

“OH MY GOD! EITA! He was a musician, we talked or whatever my sophomore year then he left and came back to Japan and I never really heard from him again!” You said beyond exasperated. Suna wanted to smile at your cute face scrunched up in annoyance, but his mind was racing.

"Ohhh weirdo guitar guy," Osamu said hitting the joint, passing it to Suna. "Dude," Osamu nudged his shoulder when Suna made no move to accept the joint.

"You still talk to the fucker?" Atsumu said, capitalizing on Suna's diverted attention and quickly stealing the joint. Osamu tsked at Atsumu breaking the circle.

"No, we just follow each other, he randomly slid in my dms" You said shrugging. "He's apparently friends with Ushijima-san too and visiting him, they went to high school together." You continued.

"Wait." Atsumu said slowly connecting the dots. "Semi Eita? Aoba Johsai's setter?"

"What the fuck Atsumu, how are you just now getting this?" You frowned. "Anyway, yes. He said his band is performing at this show and he's inviting people he knows. I asked if I could bring a few friends, and he said sure. So do y'all wanna come?" Suna did not want to come. Suna did not want to watch you get wooed by your ex. He wanted to stay home and stalk the man on every social media there is. He wanted to dox him on Twitter if he had the time. Suna was considering starting a hate account for this band he's never even heard of.

"Ushijima-san?" Kita's ears perked up. "Ushijima-san's gonna be there?" He asked hopefully.

"Kita-san, I'm so serious when I say you need to stop mooning over Ushijima-kun." Astumu said throwing a look at Kita.

"No he has a point, I'm still waiting on that signed jersey." You say nodding. "I don't know if he'll be there sadly, maybe y'all can convince him to go."

"Either way do you guys wanna come or not?" You ask diverting the conversation away from Suna's teammate.

"Yeah, why not. I wanna see this Eita character." Osamu said reaching over to pull the joint from Atsumu's mouth. He let out an offended gasp until he realized Osamu handed the joint to you.

"Me too, I'm down." Atsumu said shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I'll ask Ushijima-san if he's coming and then, and only then, will I come." Kiyoomi said glaring at Atsumu when he pouted.

"But Omi-Omi~~" Atsumu started whining, effectively forcing everyone in the circle to tune him out.

"Kita-san, Sunarin?" You asked, putting the joint out on the wall behind you. Butterflies erupted in Suna's stomach and the sound of his nickname in your sweet voice. He still didn't wanna go. But he had to.

"Sure, I'm still here through the weekend anyway." Kita said shrugging. Suna nodded his agreement not trusting himself to speak right now.

"And you want that jersey." You said laughing. "And I want that jersey." Kita confirmed smiling at you.

The rest of the week passed by with minimal issue, apart from every waking thought in Suna's mind being occupied by you and Eita. He looked the man up, stalking his instragram, and he's sure that bastard's silver hair was haunting his nightmares. Saturday came along and Suna was sitting downstairs, a pre-game playlist you made filtering through the TV's speakers. Osamu was mixing up party juice in the kitchen while they waited for everyone else to get to your apartment. Suna could hear you upstairs. Going back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom, heels clicking against the wood floors. He was dreading you coming down because he knew he'd fold the moment he saw your outfit. He already had to reign in his emotions when he saw your curled hair.

"Jesus you take so fucking long." He heard Osamu say as you climbed down the stairs carefully.

"Perfection takes time stupid." You sneered flipping him off. Suna took a deep breath and steeled himself to look up from his phone. He immediately regretted it. Did you have to look that good for your ex? The black mini-skirt clung your hips and accentuated your ass, teasing as you moved towards the kitchen. The gold platform heels you put on were new, he knew that. It matched your bracelets and hoop earrings perfectly. When you walked into the kitchen, his stomach clenched at the sight of your bare back in your backless tight fitting top.

He wanted to follow you into the kitchen, drawn to you like a magnet but the door swung open revealing Kiyoomi, Atsumu, and Kita before he could.

"SUNARIN!" Atsumu yelled bounding over to give him a hug.

"Jesus pisshead are you already drunk, it's 9:30?" You questioned walking out to say hello to your brother.

"OOOO you look great!" Atsumu said holding you at arm's distance as you gave a playful twirl. "All dressed up to go get back together with your ex?" He teased. Suna wanted to punch him.

"Ew don't even say that, I would never see that man like that again." You said scoffing.

"Why did you even date in the first place then?" Kita asked sitting on the couch.

"We didn't really date Kita-san, we made out a couple times and we hooked up once before he left for Japan again." You said sitting beside him. "I think both of us really just wanted the attention."

"Then why are you wearing that new top. And why did you buy heels specifically for this occasion?" Osamu said walking into the living room and raising an eyebrow. FOR THIS OCCASION? WHAT FUCKING OCCASION? Suna wanted to yell.

"Bye I am NOT wearing this shit for him." You said rolling your eyes. "We were friends before we ever did anything, like we were pretty close. I told him all about-" Your eyes quickly cut over to his for the briefest of seconds. He would have missed it had he not already been staring at you, "-that thing in high school that happened." You cleared your throat. What happened? What thing? Suna had never left more left out than he did at this moment.

"Huh? Oh!" Atsumu said. "Ohh, I see now." A shit-eating grin spread across his face. What? What did he see? What was Suna missing?

"So you remember this but nothing else?" You said glaring at him with a 'cut it out Atsumu' look. Suna watched as he leaned over and whispered something into Osamu's ear. Osamu's eyes landed on his then looked to you before the same shit-eating grin appeared on his face.

"I'm going to throw both of you off a building." You warned.

"So I'm confused." Komori said walking in through the open door suddenly and startling everyone.

"Oh my god, Komori!" He watched as a bright smile lit up your face. Did you get that happy to see him? You went up to give his teammate a hug, and Suna wanted to chop off his hands when they settled on the exposed skin at your waist, EJP be damned.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." You said shaking your head pulling away from him. "Don't. Worry. About. It." This time directed towards Astumu and Osamu who looked more evil, and more identical, in this moment than ever. On your way back to the couch you purposefully stomped on Atsumu's toes and Suna watched with satisfcation as he yelped bringing his shoe covered foot up to rub away the pain.

"Sunarin, you're bein awfully quiet tonight." Osamu said sidling up to him. He could sense Osamu was up to something, he had no idea what, but it unsettled him.

"You're being weird." Suna said furrowing his eyebrow and stepping away cautiously. His eyes once again found your form laughing with Kiyoomi and Komori. The action did not go unnoticed by Osamu.

"My sister huh?" He said pulling Suna's attention away from you. Fuck.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Suna tried to deflect. Before he knew it Atsumu was coming up to him matching Osamu's mischevious look.

"That why you been off at training?" Atsumu asked, in such a condescending tone it made Suna's skin crawl. "You obsessed with Y/N? You jealous?" He pestered before he could answer.

"Atsumu. Osamu." Kita said in such an authoritative voice, all three boys immediately stood up straighter. "Leave Suna and his little crush alone." Oh he was evil. Kita was evil for that. Forcing down a smile while he said it too, Kita was the devil. Suna panicked and sneered as he heard your heels clicking over to four of them.

"What're we talkin' bout?" You asked poking your head into the circle. All four boys looked down at you, but you looked straight up at Suna, dark eyes reflecting the living room lights. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your pretty face all dolled up. For Eita, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

"Nothing." Kita answers for them. Never mind maybe he isn't so evil, Suna was relieved. Now he just had to keep you, Astumu, and Osamu separate for the rest of, well, your lives.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go get some drinks." Osamu said smiling once again, a glint in his eye. "Come help me." He gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen. Fuck. Again.

"No screw you have 'Tsum do it, Komori and I are trying to convince Kiyoomi to play ride the bus." You said walking away. Suna thanked every god that exists before turning to Osamu with a scowl.

"I swear to god." Suna warned. "I will expose you with everything I have." At the idea, both Miyas faltered.

"Whatever, you're old enough to make a move if you want to." Osamu said rolling his eyes and shoving Atsumu into the kitchen. Suna still felt uneasy leaving the two of them alone to plot and scheme with this newfound information, but he turned and locked eyes with Kita-san.

"I think you'll find the outcome to be different than what you're thinking, Suna." Kita said pensively. "Bravery can prove to be truly fruitful." Suna rolled his eyes at the philosophical words grabbing Kita's arm to go to the circle you started by the coffee table. He sat down on the floor between you on the couch and Kiyoomi on a cushion. He nodded when you asked him if he wanted to play ride the bus and stared when your manicured hands dealt the cards carefully, leaving out two piles for your good-for-nothing brothers.

Playing a few rounds ensured all seven of you were sufficiently tipsy, you headed out to take the train to Roppongi towards the club where Eita and his band were playing. You waited in line and got in eventually, Suna thought it was borderline comedic watching you lead 6 of the tallest buffest men, 3 of which played for the National Team, through the crowded dance floor of the dingy club.

Kiyoomi saw Eita first, being the tallest of you all. He waved to Ushijima-San who waved back prompting a tall, slender gray haired man to turn in your group’s direction. Kiyoomi’s hand lowered and the smile fell into a less genuine one when he locked eyes with him.

“Is that Eita?” He whispered to Atsumu. Before Atsumu could turn to him with a bewildered look because ‘why the fuck would I know?’ “Y/N-chan!” The man called walking over to you at the front of the group. Atsumu watched as Suna’s eye twitched. “Eita!” You cheer giving him a warm smile, to anyone else maybe you’d be flirting but Atsumu knows you’re just being friendly.

Suna thought you were flirting. Suna could feel his keys imprinting in his palm with how hard he clenched his fists.

And then it got worse. Eita came to hug you, one arm spanning the expanse of your lower back the other around your shoulder blades pulling you against him full-frontal. After you pulled away, he looked at you. Way too intimately. He leaned down and Suna could have sworn he would kiss you but ended up briefly placing his cheek on yours and pulling away entirely. He had to divert his attention from the scene of him looking through his lids at you like that and you staring up at him with those pretty, pretty doe eyes Suna loved so much. He turned to Osamu only to see Atsumu jaw dropped, Osamu eyebrows raised, and Kita once again stifling a smile. He caught the confused look that passed across Komori's face before Kiyoomi explained to him. He wondered what Kiyoomi said. Did he say Eita was your ex? Did he say Eita was a rando guy trying to fuck you again? Did he say Eita was a pussy bitch? Everyone seemed to wipe their faces back to neutral when they noticed you turning around from Eita.

"Hi guys, this is Eita. From college." You said gesturing to the man behind you. Suna watched his eyes briefly scan the 6 men behind you. "Eita this is, Osamu and Atsumu my brothers, Kiyoomi and Komori, Atsumu's, and Ushijima's I guess, teammates, Kita is our friend from high school and he works with Osamu, and" His stomach dropped waiting to see what you'd say about him. Why wasn't he with Kiyoomi and Komori's introduction as Ushijima's teammate? Or Kita's as your friend from high school? What special thing did you have to say about him? "this is Sunarin, or sorry Suna" Cute. Did you always call him Sunarin in your head? "he's our friend from high school too." You finished. Oh, that was it? Suna couldn't help but feel disappointed as he threw a half smile towards the bastard with his hands still on your waist.

"Isn't he also on the national team?" Eita asked bumping your shoulder with his.

"Oh shit yeah wait." You said. Atsumu snorted while Osamu snickered. He figured he should save you,

"It's fine. Just a job." He shrugged.

"Don't let Sho-chan hear you say that." Atsumu laughed. He turned away from Atsumu to see Eita already looking at him. They locked eyes for a minute as Eita's gaze seemed to linger with some.. unfamiliar look? Suna hardened his gaze but Eita seemed to smirk and look away looping his arm around your shoulders to introduce you to his friends.

"You all know Ushijima. This is my friend Shirabu from high school he's a vet." A guy with an awful brown haircut raised his beer glass at you. What the fuck kind of greeting is that? "And you probably also know who Ushijima brought." Ushijima leaned back for you all to see,

"KAGEYAMA!" You and Atsumu both yelled. Atsumu sounded more affronted while you sounded excited. Why.

"Wait can you sign this" You try to say digging around in your purse for something. Oh yeah, you were a Kagyeama fangirl the same way Kita was an Ushijima fangirl. Speaking of,

"Uh. Kita-san?" Suna asked tapping his former captain's shoulder.

"Hm, sorry.” Kita said not looking away from Ushijima. Suna rolled his eyes, he needed good karma tonight.

"Ushijima-san can you bring a signed jersey to practice tomorrow?" Suna asked addressing his current captain. Funny.

"Of course." Ushijima said, no hesitation. "Who should I make it out to?"

"Nobody, my sister just wants one to wear to games." He lied smoothly.

"Wait I want one too!" You cut in. Suna looked down to see an old club wristband and a lipliner in your hands. He snickered making you turn to him with a pout.

"What?" You hissed.

"That's your plan for an autograph from Kageyama?" He teased. This was easy. He was worried for nothing. For the first time this week, his shoulders eased.

"It's all I have shut up I'm not letting go of this opportunity, Atsumu absolutely refuses to get me anything from him." You said excitedly rushing over. He watched with a smile as you pushed the items towards a very confused Kageyama. He laughed when Kageyama couldn't push up the lipliner and ended up breaking off the tip in an attempt to sign his name. The genuine fear in Kageyama's eyes as he watched your face fall in real time was so hilarious, Suna immediately took out his phone. You reassured Kageyama that it was alright and took your crudely signed wristband to walk back over to him and Osamu.

"Not go how you planned?" He asked snickering. You pouted again and showed him the crumpled wristband and your now completely broken lipliner.

"I'm cooked." You said with so much genuine sadness, Suna had to laugh again.

His joy, peace, happiness, and will to live were immediately destroyed when Eita came up to you again. This time his right hand went to your shoulder then caressed down your arm before fully resting his forearm on you. He placed himself strategically between you and Suna, a fact not unnoticed making him scowl.

"Why did my show turn into a JNT Volleyball bonding event?" He joked leaning far too close to your ear.

"I wanna call Sho-chan." Komori said. "It'd be funny, I think."

"Least it's good press." Suna bit out. He didn't mean to be unkind but when he saw Osamu's brows raise, he knew it came off harsh.

Eita didn't falter. "Yeah, you're right." He said. "Thanks for bringing your athlete posse." He said laughing down and nudging you closer. He watched you roll your eyes, a pretty smile on your face. "They're your athlete posse too." You said smiling, light blush on your cheeks as you looked up at Eita again. Suna almost growled.

"Okayyyyy" Osamu said. Maybe he did growl. "Sunarin you owe me a shot from last time let's go." He said pushing Suna towards the bar.

Once they got there, Suna leaned back against the bar letting Osamu flag the bartender while he continued to scowl in Eita's general direction.

"Dude you're being so corny," Osamu said rolling his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up." Suna said with malice.

"Either you ask her out or you quit being a jealous fuck." Osamu said crossing his arms unfaltered.

"I'm not jealous," Suna sneered, lying obviously. "I just don't fuck with the guy."

"Because he had the balls to do what you can't?" Osamu said passing him a full shot glass.

"Man it's not that simple." Suna said staring at the liquor.

"I'm not gonna push either way but quit acting like this. She obviously does not know you like her. She's just gonna think you were forced to come and you don't wanna be here." Osamu said. Suna felt a bit guilty. He was right. He knew you cared about how everyone in the group felt and put people's happiness over your own.

"Yeah. You're right." He said knocking his shot glass with Osamu's and downing the bitter liquid. Once he put the glass down and got the taste out of his mouth, he looked up. The crowd around them dissipated allowing a clear view of the sight ahead of him. You. You with Eita's hands resting on your hips. Your arms were crossed as you looked up at him not pushing his hands off but not reciprocating. You were having some conversation with him. He smiled down at you dragging his eyes up and down your body as he spoke. Suna could feel the lust radiating off him and it made him sick. He knew you weren't one for sleeping with strangers, but would you with a former lover?

"Either you take her home or he will." He barely noticed Komori on the other side of him. He rolled his eyes and didn't answer picking at the nailpolish on his fingernails. 'We're gonna end up going home together anyway we sleep in the same place' he thought bitterly. He looked up again to see Eita closer than ever. This time gripping your hip and whispering something in your ears. He should be making you blush like that Suna felt. He felt his heart light up when you gently pushed Eita off of you shaking your head. He didn't know what was said but the more distance between you and that devil the better. He watched as Eita's face contorted into something of understanding and nodded pulling away from you with a comforting smile. He felt good until you suddenly reach out grabbing his forearm and pulling him back into your space. You whispered something in his ear and he nodded with a scarily mischevious grin. Suna was burning with the need to know what was being said.

"Alright hold these." Osamu said suddenly pushing more shot glasses into his hands. He held three beers and Komori held another 6 shot glasses to add to the four in Suna's hand. ‘Were they buying for the whole damn club?’, he thought, walking back to the booth with Ushijima, Kageyama, and that Shirabu guy. Kiyoomi and Atsumu were talking in the corner. He put the shot glasses down on the table and went towards you and Kita.

"We apparently bought shots for the whole table." He said getting you and Kita to look at him.

"Oooooo exciting," You clapped your hands making to go sit. "Wait." You suddenly stopped turning to him. "You didn't give Osamu your card did you?"

"Fuck he must have taken my wallet again when I was brooding" He said running his hands down his face. He watched your face twist in concern before he realized what he had just said.

"Why are you brooding?" You asked intently. What was he supposed to say? Because he was jealous of your ex flirting with you when he himself can't even hold a conversation with you?

"Nothing just. Training." He tried. He looked around awkwardly when Astumu came up.

"Quit pestering Y/N about the other stupid middle blocker he's second string bro." Atsumu said clapping his shoulder. Maybe he should be nicer to Atsumu he's kind of saving his ass right now.

"Aww, it's okay Sunarin you're a great player!" You said trying to cheer him up. He immediately smiled at how cute your attempts were.

"So good you forgot I played for the Olympic Team?" He asked to watch you flounder.

"Okay you and I both know that is not what I meant." You said shoving his arm. He laughed as the four of you walked to booth to take shots with everyone else.

Shot after shot, drink after drink everyone at the booth got drunker and drunker as Eita's band played. Suna was having a pleasant time sitting in the booth with Kita and Ushijima quietly talking every now and then. He spent most of his time people watching. People being you. You-watching. You had found a group of girls to dance with and he could barely keep his eyes off you as you moved your hips back and forth. No Eita was in sight (he was on stage) so Suna could have his fill of the beautiful sight you made on the dance floor of the club. Atsumu and Kiyoomi fucked off somewhere, Osamu was flirting with a girl across the club, and Komori and Kageyama had left to meet up with Hinata and Bokuto at a different club and come back with them. He watched as you nodded to the girls you were dancing with when they went away leaving you standing alone in the dance floor. He didn't know if it was the jealousy over Eita, the confidence from the liquor, or simply how drawn to you he felt but he stood up and made his way over to you.

"Hi Sunarin!" You said smiling brightly at him and waving.

"What're you drinking?" He asked nodding to your almost empty glass. The liquor took him right in front of you but what was he supposed to say now.

"It's an amaretto sour." You said twirling the straw. "You wanna try?"

He leaned down and sipped from the straw you held out to him lips barely brushing your fingertips. He looked up at you pulling back and licking his lips. You seemed almost frozen in the position you were in before.

"'s good." He said nodding, wiping off a non-existed drop from his lip with his thumb. "Come with me to get one?" He asked nodding his head towards the bar. He watched you nod and bring your glass closer to your chest on shaky hands. Feeling awfully bold he grabbed your wrist and tugged you through the crowd, pulling you in front of him when you got in line for the bar. You both stood quietly, he looked down at you while you mouthed along and swayed to the music.

While distracted, the guy in front of the two of you suddenly stumbled back bumping into you and knocking your glass sloshing the liquid over the side and effectively spilling half your drink on the floor. Suna frowned and put a hand on your hip thumbs grazing the skin between your shirt and skirt, pulling you into his chest. The other went to push the guy in front of you gently away from you,

"Dude." He said taking his hand off the stranger's back but still holding it out in front of you protectively.

"Sorry man." He laughed.

"You're fine!" You said cheerily stepping around him and placing your now empty glass on the bar. He walked away as Suna moved his hand around to your lower back guiding you forward towards the bar.

"You're too nice" He said looking down at you.

You shrugged, "'s not like he meant to". Suna heard you perfectly but he wanted to test a theory. He slid his hand again further around your waist towards your belly, pulling you oh so gently towards him. He leaned down murmuring a "what?" right against the shell of your ear, prompting you to repeat yourself. You could barely get the words out at his proximity. Every point of his touch on your body was tingling, the skin to skin contact setting you on fire. His cologne was dizzying and the little smirk he had while boring his deep green eyes into yours was maddening. Your faces were so close your noses almost brushed and you got a little too caught up in the feeling of your breath mingling in your shared space.

"Um I just said that he like didn't mean to." You said gesturing with your hands lamely. He nodded leaning up but making no effort to remove his hand or move away. You were painfully aware of how close he was, belly clenching at his proximity. As much as you were distracted by him the aching in your feet didn't seem to fade. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, Suna picking up on the action. You didn't notice him leaning down until you felt his breath on the side of your head again. You jumped slightly looking up at him,

"You wanna sit down?" He asked gesturing towards an empty seat beside you. You turned your head to look automatically, missing the way Suna's eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath of your sweet smelling shampoo and hair oil. You turned back to him and nodded. He pushed you towards the chair and held your hand as you stepped onto the bar stool. The position was awkward so, much as he hated to, Suna pulled away, remaining close. He flagged down the bartender and ordered two Amaretto sours.

"You don't have to!" You said quickly looking up at him while he told the bartender his last name for the tab.

"It's fine, I want to." Suna smiled down at you. "Plus that asshole kinda spilled the rest of your drink anyway." He said knocking his shoulder against yours. You gave him a sweet smile and shyly ducked your gaze whispering a 'thank you'.

The drinks came back and he handed yours to you, holding your hand again to help you off the stool. This time before he could let go, you were already guiding him through the crowd towards the dance floor. The two of you sipped your drinks and danced along to the music, Eita's band apparently no longer playing. Suna didn't give a shit where he was right now, his focus was entirely consumed by you.

"How's training?" You ask barely audible over the music. Suna slides his hand around your waist to pull you towards his ear, "what?" He laughs.

"I asked 'How's training?'" You repeated bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder for balance. Heels on and you still had to get on your tippy toes.

"Good." He nodded. "How's school?” He countered. "Good." You said smiling. He smiled back at you letting you back away a bit but keeping you within arms distance a hand still on your waist. You clinked your glass with his and downed the rest of your drink, him following suit. He grabbed your empty glass and placed it on the nearest table coming back to keep you company as you danced. A few minutes later and Suna was dying to get you alone. He was gonna do it. He was gonna make a move.

He grabbed your wrist pulling you close to his lips, "you wanna smoke?" he asked pulling up a pack of cigarettes. You eagerly nodded, "should I get Osamu and Atsumu?" you said looking around for your brothers.

"Fuck 'em, I don't feel like looking for them right now." He said desperately hoping you'd agree. You nodded and he turned around lacing his fingers with yours to pull you towards the outdoor area at the club. Successfully getting outside he watched as you shiver in the cold air. He pulls a cigarette from the packet and place it between his lips lighting it quickly and taking a puff. He hands off the cigarette to you and pulls off his leather jacket. He holds it open,

"Come on." He says to you gesturing to the jacket.

"Oh my gosh no Sunarin it's freezing put that back on." You said shaking your head smoke curling between you two from the lit cigarette between your fingers.

"Exactly Y/N its fucking freezing and some of us are wearing more than 2 inches of clothing." He said looking you up and down.

"Hey quit calling me a whore." You pouted puffing out smoke and crossing your arms.

"I'm so sorry, in exchange for your forgiveness please accept my jacket." He watched as you smiled and turned around letting him place the jacket on your shoulders. He tried to hide his laugh as he saw his jacket engulf your frame, falling farther than your miniskirt and well over your hands.

"Rin, I look like a fucking idiot.” You deadpanned. His heart jumped at the tender nickname and he let out a smile.

"Noooo, you look amazing!" He placated taking the cigarette from you with a teasing smile. Before he could take a drag, you looked up at him smiling brightly. He looked down at you getting lost in the way the streetlights reflected in your eyes. He moves the hand not holding the cigarette up towards your face not yet touching. He brings his face closer to yours watching your smile fall into something more shy and fragile. He looks between your eyes and lips quickly, palm barely brushing the side of your face.

"Is it okay if I.." He trailed off once again glancing down. Your breath hitched as you nodded slightly eyes fluttering closed. A few seconds passed and Suna hadn't kissed you yet making you crack one eye to see him biting his lip gazing at your face.

"Quit staring at me, just do it if you're gonna." You said fully opening your eyes and rolling them, heat coming to your cheeks and going to pull away. He laughed lightly and stopped you hand pressing to the side of your face.

"You're just pretty." He said moving closer lips barely brushing. "Wanna look at you a bit." You rolled your eyes and went to retort until you felt his lips on yours, all thoughts zapped from your mind. You kissed back hesitantly pushing closer to Suna. The hand on the side of your face moved to cradle the back of your head titling it giving Suna access to kiss you harder. You placed your shaky hands on his chest pressing when crushed your face to his, almost trying to consume you whole. You went to swipe your tongue to his mouth when Suna suddenly pulled away with a hiss. He dropped the butt of the now burnt cigarette shaking his fingers to get rid of the pain. He turned back to you noses brushing. He watched the dopey look fade from your eyes and clarity hitting you. He smiled as you blushed so pretty, skin hot against his hands. He laughed and kissed your cheek down to your neck as you placed your hands on his shoulders pushing him.

"Oh my god get off we're in public," You giggled hands weakly batting at his chest. He pulled away and held your wrists gazing down at you with a soft smile. Your eyes were reluctantly torn away from his when your phone started buzzing.

"It's Atsumu." You said when he leaned down to look over your shoulder cheek brushing yours. "He's asking where we are."

Suna pulled his phone out when it also started going off picking up without looking at the caller id assuming it was Osamu,

"SUNARIN!!!!" He heard a voice boom on the other end,

"Bokuto-san?" Suna asked confused pulling his phone away to check, and sure enough it was an unsaved number. "How did you even get my phone number?"

"COME BACKKK" "please don't fuck my sister in a shitty club." Suna heard Bokuto's yells fade away and Osamu's voice come through clear.

He looked down at you watching as you titled your head in confusion like a puppy.

Suna rolled his eyes ending the call, not deigning Osamu with a response.

"We gotta go back in huh." You said taking off his jacket. He quickly grabbed the edges and pulled you up kissing you hard. You were standing on your tippy toes when Suna's arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand once again cradling your head. You felt his tongue slip into your mouth lightly before pulling away entirely.

"Keep it on." He said smirking down at you and grabbing your hand. You were still disoriented until he pulled you back inside the club lacing your fingers with his. He looked back over his shoulder at you and pulled you closer, walking you both back towards the table.

You saw Eita leaned over the bench by Ushijima. He smiled at you knowingly when he took in Suna's hand in yours and his jacket around your shoulders. He snorted when you blushed and silently screamed to show your excitement.

"Y/N-CHAN!" Bokuto's big voice boomed heading towards you. Bokuto was your favorite of your brothers' friends (don't tell Sunarin). He bounded over to you wrapping you up in a big hug breaking apart you and Suna. You eagerly returned it jumping around in a circle with him.

"Isn't that jacket a bit big for you? Still love your outfit though!" Bokuto said looking you up and down.

"Yeah Y/N, isn't that jacket a bit big?" Atsumu asked teasingly. "Doesn't it look more like a men's?" Osamu asked joining him. "Looks just like something Sunarin would wear now that I think about it huh 'Samu." "You've got a point there 'Tsumu." You hoped they both got run over by a train.

"Again for the second time tonight, jump off a building like actually both you." You said shoving Osamu into the booth to sit beside him.

You slipped out of the jacket and handed it off to Sunarin thanking him. He took it back with a pout and you rolled your eyes. The rest of the night passed by with you joking and dancing along to the music with the rest of your friends. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about the kiss. Did Suna like you? Did he just want to fuck you? Shit either way you’d be down. The rest of the night Suna didn’t make a move considering you were around all your friends but every time you looked in his direction he was already staring at you, giving you butterflies at every stolen glance. At the end of the night Suna gave you his jacket once again and pushed you into the inner seat on the train sitting down beside you to press his thigh to yours. You sat with your thighs clenched and body curled in on itself to retain warmth while Suna manspread in the seat beside you laughing at your shivering. He ran his hands down the front of his thighs pinky extended to brush against your skin. He smirked when goosebumps followed the path of his finger.

“Still cold?” He asked whispering to you. You pouted and nodded at him burying yourself further into his jacket. He moved his hand onto your plush thigh rubbing the skin to warm you up squeezing when he couldn’t hold back the urge. “Get a fucking room.” Atsumu said glaring at you two. “That’s the plan when the train stops.” You said sticking your tongue out at him.

“Oh gross while I’m in the house seriously?” Osamu asked pulling a disgusted face.

The three of you laughed while Osamu shook his head and shivered. Your train stop came and all four of you walked back to your small apartment Osamu and Atsumu in front of you as you and Suna trailed behind them hands brushing but neither one of you daring to grab. What happened to all the confidence you had earlier? What happened to Sunarin who had kissed you so sweetly first? You were lost in your thoughts when you came to your doorstep Suna grabbing your wrist as Osamu and Atsumu proceeded inside. You looked at him with a confused glance.

"Everything ok?" You asked.

"Why do you think I kissed you?" Suna asked dropping your wrist and putting his hands in his pockets.

Feeling very put on the spot you shrunk into yourself a bit only to remember his heavy jacket drenched in cologne on your shoulders. Your gaze briefly cut up to his before looking down and biting the corner of your lip. You never thought he'd like you. You had the most massive crush on Sunarin all throughout high school, fucking Eita and every guy after him in college to get over those memories. And you thought you were! Truly you had convinced yourself you didn't like him anymore. Sure you had a huge smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach as you watched him play the national court in Paris. Yeah maybe every time you visited Hyogo you prayed and hoped Osamu or Atsumu would bring him back with them. But you had convinced yourself, firmly. At least until he moved in with you.

Suna was different than he was in high school. Back then it was puppy love. You liked almost all of your brothers' friends, you were notorious for having a crush on nearly every member of the volleyball team. With Sunarin it was different. You never explicitly told him you liked him. Not like with Aran or Ginjimia. You convinced yourself over and over you wouldn't be that bitch. You wouldn't fall for your brothers' best friend just because he was around. He was only friends with you because of them anyway.

"Y/N?" He questioned when you hadn't responded for almost a minute.

Anyway, Suna was different now. He was bigger, he was stronger. He was more mature, less biting and mean. He mellowed out. Now, you couldn't convince yourself you didn't like him. You had become that bitch.

"Sorry." You said releasing your lip before you chewed a hole through the skin. "I don't know Sunarin, you tell me?" You redirected his question nervously. "Heat of the moment? Liquor? Fuck, maybe you're just pent up. Neither of us have gotten laid in a very long time."

"Y/N, I like you." He said so easily. As if he didn't just destroy your entire world view. As if the past 9 years of you wishing on a star every night to get rid of the crush you had him meant nothing. You gaped at him mouth wide open.

"Go on a date with me." He asked pushing your chin up, clicking your teeth together.

"I-yeah. Sure. Of course." You said excitement creeping up onto your face barely containing yourself from jumping around in glee.

"I'll text you then." Suna said smiling with just as much joy.

"You have fun doing that without my number." You said crossing your arms watching as Suna's mouth opened and closed thinking of a retort.

"Whatever just get inside it's cold and the neighbors are gonna complain." He rolled his eyes and pushed you around towards the door.

"Oh I'll give the neighbors something to complain about." You said smirking at him, opening the door. ‘What had he created’, Suna thought as he gaped at you red coming to his cheeks.

"Not in this house you won't." Osamu said arms crossed as you opened the door.

"Were you fucking eavesdropping?" Suna asked smile immediately dropping, frowning at Osamu and Atsumu standing in foyer.

"I needed to know if you would hurt my baby sister!" Atsumu admonished.

"I'm adopted and less than a year younger than you." You said rolling your eyes.

"I'm serious Suna! Do NOT FUCK IN THIS HOUSE!" Osamu yelled as the two of you climbed the stairs. Of course you had no plans of fucking Suna in the bedroom across from your brother's, but seeing Osamu get mad was too good.

[bigmacari]

Hi!!

Can I request a romantic oneshot/ request (choose whatever you like) for Donnie 2012 where the reader who never showed their abilities suddenly showed themself to be incredibly smart one day. Like, how will Donnie react to the fact that his s/o turns out to be much smarter than him? the reader does the things that take Donnie hours to do (like writing code or drawing a blueprint) in a couple of minutes… will he be suspicious of them, or maybe fall in love even more… or maybe even get jealous

No pressure at all, of course! If this doesn’t inspire you, that’s totally okay! But if that’s the case, could you please let me know?

Hope you’re doing well, and thank you so much for your work 🫶🫶♥️

╭──────────────────.★..─╮

2012! Donnie x Reader

☆Donnie finds out that his S/O is secretly smart.

☆Warning(s) None

☆AuthorNote(s) Ahhh you are so sweet! I'm hoping your doing good as well. Please excuse my writing of smart people as I'm pretty average brained lmao. Sorry if its a bit short. I hope you enjoy! ❤❤

╰─..★.──────────────────╯

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It's late, later than it should be and Donnie doesn't even realize it. His brothers are fast asleep and the only light in the lair is coming from the lab. Where you are sitting on a stool, half asleep, with your hand supporting your head.

Donnie was currently working some blueprints for the Shellraiser. After various injuries to the vehicle, he finally decided some defense upgrades were needed. Donnie needs to find out a way to still keep the speed of the Shellraiser while increasing the overall armor of it. This would be easy, if most of the material he uses wasn't from the dumpster.

They don't usually have high grade titanium you know?

Which leads to now, with Donnie glaring at a piece of paper, twirling a mechanical pencil in his hand. He let's out a deep exhale and crumbles up the paper, throwing it behind his shoulder. This action was loud enough to snap you put of your sleep dazed state, and make you look up at him.

He watches you sit up and stretch your arms behind your back. Your back pops a few times, making you let out a small noise of contentment.

"Your still working on the blueprints?" You say, clearing your throat of the thickness built up from dozing off.

Donnies face cringes a little hearing the tiredness in your voice, "Yea... BUT I think I'm getting somewhere! I just need a few more hours."

Your shoulders fall a bit, face crestfallen. Honesty, you really just want to go to bed with your turtle boyfriend. Between school and the missions, you haven't been able to spend the night or hangout much.

And the particular mission today wore everyone out, including you. There was quite a lot of Krang in the area and the boys were trying to figure out why. This eventually led to you getting roped into it, as the turtles got overwhelmed and needed help. You all got out of it unharmed, destroying the Krangs plain once again. In the end, all there was left was scraps.

...

"Hey Don? Hand me a piece of paper would you?"

Donnie raises an eyebrow but complies, sliding the paper to where you are sitting. He watches as you pick up a pencil that was laying next to you, and start scribbling something down. Wanting to see, he strains his neck to look at what your doing.

Within minutes, a sketch comes to life, it looks like the Shellraiser but with a couple added parts to it and little diagrams with arrows surrounding it.

"What-" Donnie begins, but you cut him off with a hushed 'hold on!'

Another minute passes and you drop the pencil, pick up the paper and look at with your arms stretch in front of you. With a nod, you slide the paper back to him with a grin. He picks it up and scans it. Then his face drops in surprise, showing the gab in his teeth.

"The krang have a bunch of otherworldly technology right?" You begin, " We've had to blow up some of the machines they've built to destroy them. So why don't we add some of that material to the Shellraiser?"

Donnie looks up at you, then down at the paper, then back to you again. "Thats...Why didn't I think of that earlier! This is perfect. Of course we'll have to be careful not to alert the Krang when taking the parts but we could use it for so many things!"

Well, he might not go to bed for another couple hours now that you introduced to so many possibilities, but at least he's back to his inspired self.

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☆ At first he's way to fascinated with the ideas you've presented to really think about the fact that your smart as hell.

☆ When he calms down a bit though, he just like, 'wait how'd you do that' and starts asking questions. I mean, he didn't think you were dumb or anything, just not THIS smart.

☆Donnies definitely gets jealous sometimes. But only because he's insecure that he's not useful outside of his scientific work. If he's not good at that, what does he have?

☆ 'I could've figured that out!' Goes to 'Why didn't I figure that out...' pretty fast.

☆If you ask to work in the lab with him, he'll definitely try to mansplain stuff you already know. Which just ends up making him look a little stupid. Cause like, you already drew up the blueprint or built the invention by the time he's done.

☆After he gets over himself, he starts to enjoy you working in the lab with him. You slowly start opening up new ideas for him and lessening the work load. Which makes it so you guys can spend more time together.

☆Whenever he gets discouraged, Donnie asks for your help. Soon, he finds that having two perspectives helps when thinking about problems. Which should be common sense, but he's not use to working with someone and has a ' I can do it by myself' mentality.

☆This grows your relationship quite a lot. Donnie admires your smartness and creativity, which makes him fall for you even more.

☆Sometimes you'll catch Donnie staring at you with a starstruck look on his face when you get excited about science and inventing. When its late, you two will take turns making coffee to be sure your both awake to finish a big project. Most nights, you both will end up on the couch in his lab, asleep and cuddling eachother close.

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[banana-can-do-art]

It is my life’s purpose to convert everyone in my immediate vicinity to whatever piece of media is currently rotting out my brain lol. This also often includes people who have absolutely no interest but you cannot stop me from rambling dang it!!! I have too many thoughts!!!

I actually need the RSA kids to overblot while Vil is in the background just saying “slay,” with the hand motion and everything lol. Actually I think I’d be really funny if Neige overblotted in Vil’s presence and Vil was just like see he’s a mess too yeeeeeeesss. Although I think that while Niege does have a stage persona, he is a genuinely nice person. I’ve seen people be like well actually Neige is secretly evil!!! But that would completely go against Vil’s entire character arc! Vil hates Neige because he represents how he is never good enough, and because since they are both child actors in that extremely messed up industry, they have both had competitiveness drilled into them and so Vil despised Neige, bug Neige had never actually done anything to him. There is no logical reason to hate him because Niege has never been anything but kind to Vil. That said, it doesn’t mean we couldn’t get a cool overblot out of him if we do RSA overblots because he has a whole tragic backstory and is likely doing the Kalim move of everything is fine actually and is stuck in the same extremely toxic industry that Vil is. Actually when I played through Vil’s overblot in book five I was a little disappointed that they didn’t directly talk about how bad the child acting industry is and how it affected Vil, and instead they focused more on the type casting. Which there’s definitely still subtext in there about it and I think that plays a really big role in Vil’s character even if they refuse to explicitly say it, but still I was hoping they would acknowledge it a bit more beyond subtext. Although, this is Disney, they’re very guilty in that department, so that might be why.

Yeah maybe they did think the Lion Ming nostalgia would carry it over, but the other dorms were based off of great movies with iconic villains too but they didn’t have one to one copies of the villain’s backstory from the movie. So idk.

Yes I love how the people in the dorms will get so upset with their housewardens but if someone from another dorm says something they get so mad lol. Like how Ortho is constantly telling Idia to go outside and touch grass, but in book five when the other kids are talking about Idia being weird he’s like STOP TALKING ABOUT MY BROTHER!!!!!!

Omg now I’m just imagining the characters trauma dumping to an actual camera, and Yuu just has an archive of videos of all of the students having mental breakdowns.

Guys, I love the heartslabyul dream arc and I understand they probably did the order for plot reasons so they could have certain characters in some dreams and not in others but like… THE CHARACTERS NAMES ARE 1234 AND YOU DID THE DREAM ORDER AS 2413!!! WHAT?!?! On that note actually, why is Trey named Trey and Cater named Cater? Because rank in the dorm wise we have 1 and 2 as the freshmen and then you would think that the normal junior would be 3 and then the vice housewarden would be 4 but noooo the normal junior is 4 and the vice housewarden is 3. How does this make any sense? This puts the power order at 1243! I’m not saying Cater should have been vice, I’m saying Trey and Cater should have swapped names. Like I’m sorry, your characters names are 1234 and you couldn’t even do us the basic courtesy of ordering them properly?!?! Am I the only one bamboozled by this? (I saw opportunity to use the word bamboozled, I took opportunity to use the word bamboozled. Now I have used the word bamboozled even more times you see.) idk maybe it’s supposed to be weird because it’s Alice in Wonderland or something but come on!!!

[samsayswhatever]

On Saxloch and Consent

A continued response to this anon inbox message.

The Threesome has made a lot of viewers question Saxon's consent.

But there isn't ANY explicit verbal consent from ANY of them, and they are ALL drunk and high. So due to the inebriation, I think none of them could technically consent, but that doesn't mean there is a perpetrator.

However, I think Chloe is slightly more responsible since she bought the drugs and discussed wanting a foursome many scenes earlier. She was the one who wouldn't take no for an answer when Saxon denied the drugs, and she is the one who started the "do it!" chant until he took the drugs. But Saxon wasn't very drunk at that point, and Chloe doesn't have much power over him. He could have said no to the drugs.

Despite not knowing if there was initial consent, I actually think there are a lot of signs of continued consent between them throughout the night: The high five, the third kiss, locking eyes with Loch as he cums etc. I agree that Saxon's initial enthusiastic consent isn't shown, so there is no way to know for sure what happened off screen, as you said anon.

However, Saxon also previously discussed wanting Loch to fuck Chloe, and his position of power as an older brother is still in play. I agree with you anon that Lochlan has the least power in the situation as a new adult and an underage drinker. But again, as I mentioned in the post linked above, the "happy = villian" theme pops up again because he's so smiley as he jacks him off, and that messes with peoples initial interpretations of Loch's innocence.

Anon, the way I see it is the show isn't completely disinterested in the concept of consent. The conversation about consent between Belinda and Pornchai was wonderfully refreshing. She was talking openly about consent at stages far removed from the act of sex, like it should be in real life!

However, for this threesome, I think the writers purposely left out the explicit consent. If there was a moment in their memories where they both said, "I really want to fuck you," I think it would have been unrealistic because they aren't at the point where they can verbalize their desires. This isn't to say that they DIDN'T say exactly that, but to say that it wasn't a part their memories focused on. All of the scenes shown were the ones that ran through their heads when they were remembering the night for the first time. And since both of them are freaking out about whether they actually sexually desire their brother, I think they are still in denial about their consent, and therefore actively blocking out and ignoring memories that would reveal the true level of their desire.

The "You guys forced me" is an interesting line that relates to this. I don't think Saxon blames Loch at all, but I can see why he blames Chloe and Chelsea in that convo. He starts to blame the threesome on Chelsea for not sleeping with him, which is stupid, but he's lashing out at everyone to avoid the blame himself. He's freaking out because he knows what he did was wrong, and want's it to be someone else's fault so he doesn't have to confront his true desires. But, as Chloe said, she didn't make Loch do anything. Yeah, she may have pushed the drugs on Saxon, but as Chelsea said, "there's no drug in the world that would make me get with my brother."

The "you guys forced me" is another example of how Saxon avoids "i" statements when he's lying. Like when he says, "We both blacked out" instead of "I blacked out." He wants it to be true so bad, but even he doesn't believe it enough to identify with the lie. So after Chloe and Chelsea gave such strong statements, he has no one else but to blame but himself.

--

I think the show is interested in exploring this more, but I'm also afraid that it won't be enough to change the "Lochlan is evil" mindset some people have adopted. I think the next episode will focus on both of them confronting that they did did something wrong.

Lochlan will likely blame himself because Saxon ignored him, and he'll spiral in the monastery about messing up his relationship with his brother, but I don't think he's going to admit it to piper. He might think telling her means he will lose her too.

Saxon will likely progress in the stages of grief, and dance between anger, bargaining, and depression. He'll possibly do something stupid or reckless to distract himself from his thoughts because he has been taught that even saying the word "genitals" is bad. So the weight of what he's done is going to be so much worse.

[puddingcatbeans]

every time tim goes "you were my robin" about jason in a fic, i am face down on the floor in a puddle of my own tears

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 12: Beware the Grapes of Wrath.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[flaming-thing]

Truly tragic

I remember seeing the crow lord and h actually had to pause the show to call my friend (who has never watched tdp, mind you) just to be like 'HES HERE WE FINALLY KNOW WHO HE IS'. Safe to say he was very confused. But lyrennus is there?? Did not see that one coming. I'm gonna have to rewatch those bits to see all these skywing people now as well lol. But are there seriously just NO female earthblood elves?? Do they just not exist?? TDP WHAT'S GOING ON?!?

Well I'm 5'6 or 5'7 (can never for the life of me remember which one) with maybe another inch or so to grow (it's unlikely though), so I'd say I'm taller/the same hight as maybe a quater of the people in the show? But 5'10 is not an unusual measurement for me at all, my family are very tall in general. I have a cousin who is 18 and he's 6'5. He's the tallest in our family though, by quite a lot

I feel like it probably had something to do with the self eating? Maybe he realised what he was doing was having effects he didn't think of or something? That's the only thing I can think of that we've been told about that changed for him at that time

I was gonna make a comment here about 'surely their dad saying was enough if a bad thing that she wouldn't want to do it' but then I remembered how they veiw death and how they have (or had, anyway) ways to communicate with the dead, and ye that dies make sense why she would go on to do that. So would her brother have become an assassin if she didn't, do you think?

Poor guys honestly, they've got the short end of the stick in pretty much everything

They took away his mysterious and menacing :(

Pft i need that to happen. Andromeda has a younger brother, she knows *exactly* how to successfully get someone to shut up. It's part of the job description of being an older sibling

Right? And there's the theory that the day avizandum was killed was meant to be zyms hatch day, but that was only a few months before the show started?? So if they did know that would be the day, they had? 7 years? To tell someone that they would take a while? And even if they didn't, surely after a year or so they would be like 'hey so um actually were gonna be a little longer. Sorry guys'. And if they did know when the egg was gonna hatch, why leave so early?? There's a lot of things here that just don't make any sense. Having them come back early could be interesting though, how would you do it? Have corvus or gren find the coins the same time they find the mirror maybe? And you'd have to get the quasar diamonds as well, unless viren reverses the spell for whatever reason

They might do it so that claudia 'sees the light' so to speak, maybe viren comes back through the nexus or something and talks to her? That's the only way I can think of that going, they've ready shown that soren can't do anything and I don't think they'd bring lissa back again. The only other was I can see how they'd deal with claudia would be to kill her, but I doubt that would happen all things considered

The boys too trusting for his own good, except this time it actually helped him

Damn purple text? I would not be able to read that but it sounds like that'd look really cool lol. But ye tumblrs the only website/app that I've seen thag has so many customisations available

Different Path Taken Ch19 P1: Runaan and Skor's Discussion

I'm not as happy with this section as I have been with some of the other tough ones, and I haven't quite isolated what the problem is. It might end up going through some bigger edits? I don't know, I kinda wanna just be done with it, since while it feels clumsy, it did go over what I wanted it to do.

Skor wasn’t far away when Runaan found him.  He didn’t even need to track prints through the snow, as the other swordsman was sitting on an outcropping of rock within sight of the cave entrance, eyes fixed on the human village below.  Runaan made sure to crunch a bit of snow on his approach, and saw Skor glance at him, so he wasn’t startled when Runaan sat down on the rock beside him. 

“How stable are you?” Runaan asked softly, without looking directly at him, just looking out of the corner of his eye.

Skor sighed through his nose. “He’s coming with us, isn’t he.”

“I asked first.”

“That’s a yes.” Skor rubbed his forehead tiredly, and when Runaan looked a little closer, he winced internally at the exhausted lines around his eyes and the tight pupils.  He wasn’t panicked anymore, but this was taking a toll on him. 

Runaan sighed, not bothering to contradict him, and cast his own eyes down to the village.  He spared a moment to hope Rayla - and those he had sent with her - were doing well, and the humans had found some help for the egg. “It seems the most viable option going forward.”

“We can’t trust him.” Skor growled. “You know better than anyone, Runaan.  Humans can’t be trusted and that one works for her.”

Runaan tilted his head at him. “And what makes the princes so different?”

Skor pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “Nothin’.  Small children don’t have higher morals, they have needs and people who fill them, and human children grow up slower than ours in that way.  Right now, that’s us, so of course Ezran wants to help.  It might even work for a few years.  But once he goes home, is surrounded by adults that hate us the way they do for enough years?  I doubt it will last.  Callum is old enough t’ have his own values, but he won’t be the one on the throne that could actually harm us.”

Runaan frowned a bit and looked back down to the village, where he had sent them, entrusting the future of the world to the boys Skor now spoke of with such skepticism. “I don’t think either of them are young enough to be in that state of mind,” He said carefully. “While it’s true that human children mature . . . slower, Ezran should be around the same mindset as Rayla was when I took her in.  She was more than capable of this kind of planning and reason - as you well know.”

Skor shook his head. “Does it matter?  We’ll do this, and it’ll be a reprieve for a few years, if it works.  It’ll save our home from Zubeia, at least.  I don’t doubt their intentions now.  I just . . . don’t trust them to keep them.  Especially back in Katolis once it’s over, with her counsel.”

“Perhaps,” Runaan conceded, reluctantly, after a moment. “But while she is vicious to us, she is a general in a war.  We have never been given a reason to believe she would turn on her own people, and these are her own nephews.  I do not believe she would give Corvus orders that would lead to their harm.”

“Like your friends would never have abandoned their posts or their daughter?” Skor asked, and the words struck Runaan so close to the heart that he couldn’t even process the tone that they came with.  He flinched involuntarily.

He didn’t grit his teeth, but it was a near thing, and he groaned softly into his hands as he rubbed the stress lines from his own face. “That was different.”

“Yes, it was,” Skor growled. “We knew them better than we know her.  What makes ye think we can trust her more than we trusted them?”

Runaan growled right back at him. “I am not saying we should trust him, and certainly not her.  Even if she would turn on her nephews, the tracker may not be willing to harm them.  He knows he can’t fight us.  We keep him with us, keep him close, to keep an eye on him.  If he stays true to his word, he may be an asset.”

“And when he doesn’t?”

“We put him to sleep, and drop him as far off our trail as we can, and leave.” Runaan said, meeting his burning golden eyes again. “If he continues to chase after that, you and Ram may deal with him as viciously as you choose.”

Skor held his gaze for a long minute, searching, before finally giving a huff and looking back down at the village, his shoulders dropping in concession.

Runaan kept looking at his profile, and sighed again, softly.  He placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Skor leaned away from it for a moment before settling, pushing back against the weight of it instead. “I know how difficult this is.” He said. “Believe me, I understand what I am asking of you.”

Skor shook his head. “It’s what’s best for the mission.” He replied, voice brittle. “What it does to us is secondary.” He looked over at Runaan through his hair and acknowledged, softer, “I lost my voice, but you lost four lives to her.  That’s far worse.”

Closing his eyes at the memory of the elves he had been forced to abandon inside the caves, Runaan took a deep, even breath, and shook his head. “I will not quantify suffering.” He said after a moment. “You lost a life, too, in a way.  The life you should have had.”

The thought hung in the air between them for a moment, both well aware that if things had turned out differently - if Skor had not lost his voice, and his pride had not been killed under Runaan’s command - he would likely have retired several years ago.  He would not be in Katolis at all.

“I’ve made my peace with that.” Skor said softly. “Have you?”

Runaan blinked at him. “Have I made my peace with what?”

Skor glanced at him through his hair. “Losin’ the life you should have had.”

“What are you . . .” the question died in Runaan’s throat as Skor tilted his head towards the village below, the implication from before pressing in like blades around his ears.  He laid them back a little defensively.

“You set all your plans aside for two elves who’ve gone on t’ betray you.” Skor pointed out softly. 

Runaan rubbed the marks across his nose, closing his eyes against the darkness pressing in from his sides. “You know as well as I do the Dragonguard had no choice in leaving,” He said slowly. “What was I supposed to do?  I had been a part of Rayla’s life since she was born.  Was I to leave her with someone else?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Skor said, tilting his head to look at Runaan around the hair that fell over his face. “That was seven years ago, an’ she’s only fifteen.  They didn’t have a choice about leavin’?  They left t’ protect her?  They threw her life away along with the rest of us when they ran.  Saved their own skins instead.”

“Skor-”

“We’ve all a right t’ be angry with them for that,” Skor pressed. “But even before that, Rayla’s only fifteen.  She’ll remember more of her life with you than with them.  She’s practically grown, and they did what, sent letters?  That’s not parenting, and you know it.  They dropped that on you, an’ never let ye take the title ye deserve for the responsibility ye took, too selfish to let her have a family they weren’t a part of.”

Runaan flinched, hand dropping from Skor’s shoulder and covering his own face as he grimaced. “That doesn’t - Skor, I can’t deal with this right now,” He said desperately. “She is their daughter, she is the one who suffers the most from what they’ve done.  Her feelings on the matter come first.”

“That’s my point.” Skor shifted his weight onto his opposite hip to turn a little more towards Runaan, arching his brows pointedly. “You’re the only adult in her life that always puts her first, except Ethari, and honestly, my friend, I’m not as sure as you are that he’d choose her over you.”

He would.  Runaan was more than confident of that.  He grimaced at the very thought of making him choose, though, and shook his head.

“I’m not sayin’ ye should talk to Rayla about it.” Skor said. “It’s not her job tae take care of you.  But I knew them, too.  Ye do have other friends, not all of us willin’ to fuck you over for seven years and end it with a stab in the back.”

Runaan flinched again and snapped. “Alright, yes, I am angry!  I am confused, and frustrated.  I do not understand what changed, I trusted - I loved them as my brother and sister, and I can’t - I don’t understand why they would betray us like this.  But I cannot deal with this right now.  I must do what I can to minimize the damage from what they’ve done, to Rayla and to our people’s reputation in the eyes of the dragons.”

“You’ve been cleanin’ up after those two your whole life.” Skor observed softly.

Runaan grimaced. “That will no longer be an issue after this, will it?” He said bitterly, and then narrowed his eyes at Skor. “And you are deflecting.”

Skor wrinkled his nose at him and lifted his lip to show one chipped fang in halfhearted spite. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Runaan showed his own fangs right back, heart aching at the memory of when that fang had been chipped, but appeased when Skor’s mouth closed again under his show of dominance. “I will not force you,” He said anyway, a little wry after Skor had done exactly that to him. “But know that I am here if you need it.  I know, better than anyone, why this is difficult for you, and I share your concerns.”

“It’s what’s best for the mission.” Skor repeated reluctantly, and groaned softly as he leaned back on his hands, raising his face to the sun’s heat and closing his eyes against its light. “Runaan, if he says anythin’ else about that woman’s honor -”

“I will not restrict his right to speak,” Runaan said, but shrugged when Skor scowled. “But I will not restrict yours, either.  If he offends you, respond as you wish, just - verbally.  We don’t resort to violence until he does.”

Skor’s eyes remained shut but he nodded slowly. “Fine.”

He would not have returned to the field, and Runaan would not have allowed him to stay there, if he weren’t capable of stabilizing even under circumstances that brought up plagues from his past.  Runaan accepted this answer and looked back down to the village below.  He took note of a small group of people - four - one smaller than the other three - leaving the well-trodden path towards where he and Skor sat up on the slope. “The children are returning.”

“Then we should do the same.” Skor said, sounding far calmer than he had when Runaan first approached him, at least, and nodded with eyes open when Runaan looked at him again.  They both stood up and dusted the bits of snow off of themselves, and took a few breaths to clear their minds after the discussion they’d had.  Skor returned to the cave, ducking inside with only a glance at Runaan.  Runaan remained by the entrance, waiting for the children to return.

For all they weren’t all his children, he couldn’t help his growing concern for the human boys, and he had known Ram since he was quite young as well.  They were all his responsibility.

He shoved Skor’s words from earlier out of his mind.  Rayla’s needs came first.  He knew what he had to do about his friends’ betrayal, and processing his reaction to it could come later, when he had less on his plate and could justify devoting precious energy to doing so.

[flowered-mp3]

y'all ever just watch someone self-sabotage themselves to the point where it's hard to watch

[harrysfolklore]

misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1

summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before

word count: 8.2k + social media posts

folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen was bored.

It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.

He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.

After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.

A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."

Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.

The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"

Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.

"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."

Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.

"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."

Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.

"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"

Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.

"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.

"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."

Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.

"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."

Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.

With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.

When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."

Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.

"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."

Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.

"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."

Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.

As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.

After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.

As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others

f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”

Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭

view all comments

username1 HES SOOOOO

username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭

username3 he looks so pretty tho

username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU

username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers

username6 HES SO RANDOM

username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples

liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others

ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?

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username1 YES QUEEN

username2 that max comment was so random but so real

username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card

username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you

username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES

username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun

username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion

maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks

liked by username1, username2 and 15,836 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !

view all comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 max ??? bookshop ????

username3 WHAT SHIFTED

username4 he thought it was jimmyz

username5 HEELPP what is he doing there

username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books

↳ username1 FOR REAL???

↳ username2 max said book girl summer

↳ username3 this is so random

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.

As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.

Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.

As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.

Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.

He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.

Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.

"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"

Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."

"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.

Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.

"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"

"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"

"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"

Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."

"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."

Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.

"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."

They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.

As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.

"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"

"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"

Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."

"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"

He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.

Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.

"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."

"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"

Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."

"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.

"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.

"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"

"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."

"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."

"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.

Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.

"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."

"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."

"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."

"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."

Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"

Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?

"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.

Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.

"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.

After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.

As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.

Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?

He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.

Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.

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username1 GIRL

username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING

username3 f1 x books this is literally me

username4 hot girls support max verstappen

username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan

username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭

redbullracing We can’t wait 💙

↳ username1 REDBULL???

↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER

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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.

The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.

But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.

The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.

As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.

Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.

Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.

As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.

"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"

Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.

"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"

"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"

"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."

"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."

"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.

"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"

Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.

Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.

After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.

As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.

She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.

He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.

Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"

She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"

They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.

"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."

He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.

They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.

As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.

"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."

Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.

"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."

"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."

"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."

"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"

Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"

As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.

"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."

YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."

They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.

"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."

"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."

They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.

"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."

"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."

They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.

"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."

Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.

"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."

"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."

"Everything happens for a reason, right?"

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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙

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username1 OMFGGGG

username2 no one deserved this more than her for real

username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED

redbullracing Come back soon! 😉

username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport

username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG

username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill

↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion

↳ username1 WTF

↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video

danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀

↳ username3 how do i sign up for this

username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED

maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️

↳ username1 OMG MAX

↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her

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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡

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username1 KIIING

username2 how can a man be so babygirl

username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2

danielricciardo 🦁🦁

landonorris Simply lovely

↳ username1 menace

username4 bro who got you smiling like that

ynreadsbooks ❤️

↳ username2 biggest max girlie

↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG

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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.

Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.

As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.

Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.

Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.

"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"

"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."

YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"

"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."

"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"

"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."

"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."

They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.

"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."

"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.

Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"

"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"

Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.

"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"

The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?

YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."

Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."

YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."

Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."

He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.

"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."

As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.

YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."

Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.

"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."

"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.

"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."

"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."

"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."

As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.

He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?

The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.

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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.

In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.

The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.

As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.

Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.

"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."

Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."

"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."

"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."

Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"

Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.

"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."

"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.

"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"

"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."

"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."

Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.

As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.

Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.

YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.

"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"

Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.

"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."

As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."

"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.

As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."

YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."

Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."

As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.

Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."

She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."

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username1 AWEEE

username2 those are cute kittens

username3 those look like max verstappen's cats

username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??

↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be

danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble

↳ username2 HOLD ON??

↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅

↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??

↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST

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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.

True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.

The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.

They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.

Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.

What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.

When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.

The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.

Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.

YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"

Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"

YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.

Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.

Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."

YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"

"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."

A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.

As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.

In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.

He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.

"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."

She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."

As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.

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ynreadsbooks monaco you're the dream 🤍

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username1 GIRL

username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this

username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭

username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO

username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?

username7 she just had a book and a dream fr

landonorris Has he bored you yet?

↳ username1 IM DYING

↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle

↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉

↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️

↳ landonorris I'm disgusted

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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.

For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.

Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.

As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.

Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.

"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."

Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."

"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"

Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."

YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"

"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."

"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"

"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.

"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."

Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."

As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.

YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.

The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.

When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."

Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."

"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."

With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.

When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.

"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."

YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."

"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."

"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."

YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."

Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.

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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.

Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."

When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.

In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.

Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.

Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.

"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.

"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."

They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."

"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."

Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.

"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"

"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."

"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."

Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"

Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.

"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."

Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.

As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.

He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.

Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.

"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"

Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."

He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.

Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.

"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.

Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"

YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."

Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."

The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.

"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."

YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.

"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"

YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."

[httpsleclerc]

the story of us - chapter 2

pairings: Max Verstappen x Sister!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Single Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Platonic Kelly Piquet x Verstappen!Reader

summary: Charles and Verstappen!Reader meet for the first time as adults with a little plus one. 

warnings: pregnancy, controlling behaviour from a partner, baby trapping

w/c: 3.4k words

a/n: thank you so much for all of the love on the first part of this series it really means a lot to me! As always, I'm always open to feedback and reblogs! Thank you all for the support again!

my masterlist // series masterlist

The air felt thick and suffocating around you, your shaking hands reaching out to take a hold of the small pink stick which sat on the bathroom counter. You swallowed the lump of fear in your throat, turning the plastic stick around, your breath caught in your throat.

The two pink lines stared back at you glaringly, unwavering and strong.

You were pregnant.

Tears sprung to your eyes, you didn't know whether to be excited or scared - Sure, you were going to have a baby and become a mom, but you were still young, you were only 22 and you knew that your relationship with Lukas was far from healthy and stable.

"What are you doing in there?" You heard him ask through the door, making you jump, yet holding on tightly to the proof of the little life growing inside of you. "Y/N." You pulled yourself together, hoping that he couldn't see the conflict within you.

"Lukas, I'm pregnant," You had gotten your bluntness from your brother, in one sense. You studied his face for any semblance of a reaction, one thing, you had claimed you gained from your abusive childhood, was your emotional intelligence. You watched as his face lit up, slowly racing to gently place his hand on the still flat surface of your stomach.

"Really? That's...that's great, love," He told you, a grin on his face.

He wasn't grinning about the prospect of becoming a father, he was grinning over the fact that he had you in the palm of his hand.  He had been working you up to this, switching out your birth control pills for placebos, timing your cycle perfectly, making sure that he had you trapped. He knew that you had a traumatic childhood and that you would be eager to raise your own family completely differently from how you had been.

"Really? You don't think that it's too soon?" You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. He smiled down at you, swiping the tears away from your face as they slowly fell.

"Not at all, my love, you're ready for this, you're going to be such a good mum," He soothed you, pulling you in tight and holding you to his chest as he rubbed your back. "Our baby's going to be so lucky." You nodded, smiling up at him as you realised that maybe this was Lukas changing, maybe you having his baby was all that he needed to stop being so cruel to you.

Now, you just had to tell your brother. If Lukas let you.

"...Lukas?" You sat across from him on the couch, nervously trying to read his expression as he hummed in response. "Um...when can we tell Max I'm pregnant?" His eyes flicked up to yours, but softened as he saw you rubbing circles on your growing stomach.

"...Whenever you want, when is he back in Monaco, we could make a day of it," He suggested, giving you a soothing smile. He knew this would show your older brother that you were his now, bonded together by the life inside of you. You smiled, getting up from your spot on the sofa to curl up as best as you could beside Lukas, smiling as he placed his hand on your small bump. "She's kicking now?" You giggled as you nodded, feeling the baby, who you had recently had revealed to be a girl, kicked against her father's touch.

"Yeah, I think she knows our voices now," You smiled, placing your hands over his. "I can't believe she's this big already." Lukas smiled, knowing that now he had you exactly where he wanted you - He'd given you a baby, after this you'd have his last name and maybe another baby to keep you trapped.

"Well, she's gonna get bigger," He gently nudged you, making you giggle. "I'll call Max and arrange something, okay?" You nodded and smiled contentedly, Lukas knew that you wouldn't be questioning anything right now, your hormones and baby brain had made you almost dependent on him for everything.

Lukas had arranged to meet with Max at a little restaurant in Monte Carlo, he had taken you to it a couple times for a date, since it appeared that their pizza was the only one made with something that didn't make you throw up.

Max, couldn't wait to see you. It had been months, and he was certain that you were leaving Lukas, saying that you couldn't take how controlling he was anymore - So to hear Lukas calling him and saying that you wanted to see him, Max let his excitement blind him. 

However

As he saw you walk into the restaurant, Lukas following behind you, he couldn't be blind to the small bump on your midsection. He froze, swallowing the lump in his throat while trying to act casual. So this was why you were still with him, he had gotten you pregnant.

"Hi Max," Your grin was wide as you saw your older brother stand on his feet, embracing you tightly, but not too tight as to hurt the baby. "So...surprise, you're gonna be an uncle!" You cheered excitedly, watching as Max grinned and kiss your cheek. You were too excited  for him to tell you how he was really feeling about it, so he played along with you.

"That's great, kleine zusje, I'm so happy for you," Max said, giving Lukas a knowing look as he came up behind you, placing his hand on the small of your back. Lukas pulled a chair out for you to sit across from your brother, but beside him. You always had to be beside him. "So, do you know what you're having?" You smiled and nodded, protectively placing a hand on your stomach.

"A girl, we're gonna name her Romy."

Max made sure that Lukas would be home when he went to collect yours and Romy's belongings. He needed to make sure that he knew that neither you or your daughter needed anything from him anymore, that even if it meant that the two of you had to live with him until you got on your feet, then that would be it - You and Romy didn't need him anymore. Knocking on the door of your old apartment, Max stood, his jaw and fists clenched.

"What do you want?" Lukas answered the door, freezing upon seeing your older brother standing at the door. "Didn't Y/N tell you what I told her? I don't want her or the baby back, she can get her child payment but that's it. I'm done with her." He harshly told Max. Max scoffed ash he shook his head - The audacity of him to think that Max would ever let you go back to him.

"I know that, I just came to tell you that if I ever, ever  see you around Y/N or Romy again, then I'll personally make sure that you never see again. You never deserved either of them." Max responded, fully meaning his threat - He wasn't known as Mad Max for nothing. Lukas just shook his head in response, laughing at Max.

"You can play the protective big brother role all you want, Max, but I know how dependent Y/N was on me for the past 3 years. I gave her everything she wanted, I gave her that stupid baby, and she threw it all back in my face." Max stormed in, grabbing Lukas by the collar and holding him up against the wall.

"You shut the fuck up. You trapped her because you knew that she was going to leave you, you needed her more than she needed you and you know that. How little of a man are you that you would call your daughter stupid? Like I said, you never deserved either of them." Max shoved him once more before leaving, ready to get all of yours and Romy's stuff and taking it back to his apartment. He meant what he said - And if it meant that if you and your daughter had to stay with him for a while as you got on your feet again, then that would be fine. Max loved Romy, and if it meant that he could spend time with her on the breaks and off season while you worked, then that would be fine.

Romy giggled as you groaned, kicking her feet up at you as you tried to place the pink socks over her little feet. You were already late to meet Max's friend, and your daughter's insistence on not putting her socks on was making you later.

"Romy, my love, if you don't let mama put your socks on then you have to wear your crocs," You spoke mainly to yourself, you didn't think your 7 month old baby would be able to comprehend such a sentence, but she heard the words socks and crocs and immediately felt excitement, already kicking her little legs at the prospect of her favourite shoes. "Oh, so you want to wear your crocs. I wish you could talk already, Romy bear, it would make mama's life so much easier," You spoke, digging around the small bag you had packed to look for her small crocs. Finally, you found them, quickly slipping them over her small feet, grabbing a diaper bag quickly to slip over your shoulder, and picking Romy up, holding her at your hip as you hurriedly left Max's apartment.

You quickly buckled her into her car seat, making sure she was secure before hurriedly making your way to the cafe where Max had told you to meet Charles.  You weren't sure what your older brother was thinking about, was he setting you up with the Monegasque, or was he just trying to get you out to socialise? You weren't sure if you were ready to be in another relationship yet, 3 years with Lukas had taken their toll on you and now you just wanted to spend some time with your baby. The cafe was quiet, tucked away from the busyness of Monte Carlo as not to overwhelm you on what could have been your first time out being social with Romy. You pulled into a parking space, quickly jumping out of your car and lifting your daughter out of her car seat, holding her tight at your hip as you hurriedly made your way inside.

You spotted Charles quickly, smiling at him as he spotted you. He hadn't changed much from what you remembered, but then again, you had blocked out most of your childhood - Those weren't things that you wanted to remember. Then again, you had seen him only 8 months ago, just before you gave birth to Romy; However, it pained you when you realised that the first 6 months of your daughter's life had been a blur, you were simply focused on keeping the two of you alive and away from the harm that her father could cause to either of you.

"Hi," You greeted him, smiling as he stood up to gently embrace you, kissing both of your cheeks. "Sorry that I'm late, someone didn't want to wear socks so we had to go with crocs with her pretty pink dress." You smiled once more, tickling Romy's stomach. Charles smiled at her and then at you - From what he had heard from Max recently, he didn't understand how you could still smile, life had dealt you the cruelest of cards, yet here you were, smiling away with your baby in your arms.

"It's alright, I brought a high chair over for her," He gestured to the seat which sat at the side of the two for you and him, making you smile at his thoughtfulness. "I know it is probably a silly question, but how are you doing?" He asked, watching as you placed Romy in the high chair, strapping her in so she couldn't wiggle out and hurt herself.

"Um...I don't really know, I've just sort of been on autopilot for a bit, I'm just relieved to be gone from him, for both of us," You told him, feeling weight coming off of your shoulders - You had spent the past hours telling Max that you were fine, you didn't want to worry your older brother anymore than you already had for most of your life. "How are you after the breakup?" Charles shrugged but smiled sadly.

"Fine, it had to happen - We weren't good for each other anymore," Charles felt like he was almost rubbing salt in your wound, bragging about how easy it was for him to leave an unhealthy relationship while you were stuck in one for years. "But anyway, would you like a drink? Tea or coffee?" He offered you, standing to head to the counter.

"Just tea please," You smiled, watching as Charles made his way to the counter to order for you and himself. He came back soon enough, with two pastries on the side. "What's this?" You asked him, tilting your head as you poured the milk into your tea. 

"Oh, Max told me that it was your favourite like...forever ago, I didn't know what else to get you, I thought that Romy might like it too," He smiled at you and the Romy, who grinned at Charles and reached for him. "What do you want little one? Tell Cha," He spoke to her so naturally, it made you smile.

"I think that she wants a cuddle, Charles," You smiled at him, watching as he blushed. "You've held a baby before, yes? But you don't have to if you don't want to, no pressure," You said, unstrapping Romy from the high chair and holding you in her arms. She continued to fuss and reach for the Monegasque, whimpering in your arms as she reached out for him. "Shhh, just calm down my little love." You soothed her, looking to Charles to silently ask him whether he wanted to hold your daughter or not.

"Yes, of course, I'll hold her," Charles reached out to hold her in his arms, and you watched in amazement as Romy immediately settled into Charles' arms - She had only ever settled for you, on occasion Max; not even for Lukas, not that he had ever taken anything to do with his daughter. "She's so cute, Y/N. Looks so much like her mama," He whispered the last part, thinking you hadn't heard - The blush on your cheeks proved otherwise.

"I'm just shocked that she settled down for you, she's a little bit fussy with who she likes to hold her," You smiled, Charles was a natural with Romy, holding her on his lap. He smiled back at you, gently bouncing her on his knee, the two of you laughing at she giggled. "She must really like you, Charles." You told him, seeing a gentle blush creep across his face.

"Well, I really like Romy too," He said, both to you and to the baby on his lap.

The two of you chatted together, recounting the more happier memories you had of him from your childhood, and how you had missed seeing him around the paddock but looked forward to seeing him more now you were living with Max.

He told you how he was looking forward to seeing you and Romy around the paddock. "I'd love to spend more time with the two of you" Charles told you, making you stutter over your words. "I'm sorry, that might have been a bit too upfront," He said, looking away from you as he rubbed small circles on Romy's back.

"No, no, it's not that, I um...I'd like to do this again, it's been really nice, Charles." You told him, a grateful smile on your face as you appreciated the company of the Monegasque. "I should probably get going, Max is going to wonder where we are." He nodded, frowning as Romy whimpered at the loss of his contact, but smiling as he saw her contentedly cuddle into you.

"Of course, mon cher. Please let me know when you get home," You nodded and smiled, the two of you leaving the small cafe. Charles came to your car with you, watching as you strapped Romy into her carseat.

"Of course, thank you so much for this Charles, I really enjoyed it," You quietly closed the rear door, hoping not to disturb your daughter.

"Me too, I hope to see the two of you again soon."

Carrying your sleeping daughter in your arms, you made your way into Max and Kelly's apartment, the two of them waiting on the couch to hear about how your day with Charles had gone.

"I'll tell you two how it went after I feed her, I promise, she screamed the entire way home," You told them hurriedly, carrying a sniffling Romy into the room which was slowly resembling something that could look like yours. Max and Kelly had spent the afternoon trying their best to make it as personal for you as possible as a way to try and make you feel like this was a safe place for you and Romy. You got comfy on the bed, taking your shirt off and slipping down your bra, sighing in relief as she latched onto you - You had bottle fed her while out with Charles, you had been too nervous to feed her out in public, especially with Charles there.

It was strange, it felt like a way to decompress - A way to focus on something else other than the thoughts of Charles running through your head. The thoughts of how naturally he held Romy and how he spoke to her, thoughts of how when you were buckling her into the car seat, his hand rested gently on the small of your back. Thoughts of how he looked at you so intently. You switched Romy around, letting her feed until she fell asleep, comfortable against your chest. Gently, you lifted her off of you, clasping your bra and putting your shirt back on, laying her down in her next to me bed. You sighed, running your fingers gently down her face and smiling, watching your daughter sleep peacefully.

You closed the door quietly as you made your way out to the living room, sitting yourself between Kelly and Max, the older woman putting her arm around you - You knew that Kelly had a soft spot for you, and especially for Romy; she was forever telling you how much of a great mother you were, especially now since you were on your own - she knew that feeling all too well.

"So, how did it go?" Max asked you, a grin on his face as he watched you lean against Kelly - He was glad that the two of you had gotten along. You smiled as you recounted your afternoon with Charles.

"It went really well, we just talked for a bit and he held Romy for a bit too because she was getting fussy - He's so good with her," You cited, a smile on your face. Kelly gave Max a knowing look, your experience sounded a lot like how she felt taking Penelope to meet Max for the first time. "I think we're gonna do it again." Max smiled, after everything you'd gone through, socialising would be good for you - Even if it was with known womaniser Charles Leclerc. But Max knew you'd been through worse than Charles, but Max also knew that Charles knew Max would kill him if he broke your heart.

"That's good, kleine zusje, it sounds like it went well for both of you." You nodded and yawned, it felt like you hadn't stopped since last night and it was all catching up with you now. Max pouted as you curled into Kelly, you'd come in with your baby and stolen his girlfriend! Kelly grinned at Max, gently running her fingers through your hair as you fell asleep.

Now, normally, Max would have told you to run as far from Charles Leclerc as possible - But following Charles' breakup with Alex, he was almost certain that Charles would benefit from a more social relationship rather than jumping from disaster relationship from disaster relationship. He knew that you, generally, just needed a social relationship - Outside of him, Kelly, and your sister Victoria, you didn't really have many friends; thanks to the social isolation put upon you by Lukas.

So maybe, just maybe, you and Charles could be good for each other.

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[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

---

Now featuring a Part 2