#listen i fucking love fallout

[kreemakai]

Fallout 4 is one of my favorite games, so I'm pumped to see a bunch of people coming back to it after watching the Fallout show on Amazon.

So, in case you're new here (or just haven't experienced this masterpiece yet)

Here's a 2 hour long, wacky ass adventure involving some of the original voice actors from Fallout 4. Nick Valentine, Hancock, and Danse all make prominent appearances, with a quick cameo from MacCready! This shit gets wild, y'all.

[pigtailedgirl]

Once again I say fuck ASOIAF and Game of Thrones fandom for judging Catelyn Stark.

HER kids and Jon and poor Ned having to weigh keeping or telling the secret?!

Oh ffs. Didn't realize she had them solo there.

Yeah, never ever see the posts that judge him as a a father, placing HIS fucking kids and HIS fucking no choice but to be wife in this complex ruse of danger.

Placing his guilts and loves and choices above everyone. Father of the fucking year.

But then we don't expect perfect fathers like mothers do we?

Or in choosing to keep Jon close but distanced and lied to as well, in this weird his bastard limbo at Winterfell, the damage HE did on him. Never really consider that, do we?

[houses-snowglobes]

just finished Boone's quest I'm on the brink of tears as we speak holy fuck man

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

rewatching the fool's gold campaign for the first time in a while and god abby makes me mad. grrrrr she makes me so mad (love her)

[kamurawaffles5684]

HELLO PEOPLE OF THE COMMONWEALTH!!! I bless you with Kal’s lore, at long last. (Preferably read this with Now That’s Sacred by Jack Conte or Wired by The Neighborhood. Brings the atmosphere into this a little more.)

[JULY 20TH; 2287 — EASTSIDE OF GOODNEIGHBOR]

Name: Kal Dunham

Age: 40

Status: Relocation to Boston Encampment; Presumed Dead by Enclave Officials

Rank: Soldier; Patrol Officer

Additional Details: Daughter of Sgt Hodges and LT Oxheart. Trained to specialize in Power Armor maintenance and patrol operations

————————————————————————-

Kal, born in 2247, had been in the Enclave at birth, like many other Recruits. She was able to gain the title of a Patrol Officer through rigorous training and examinations, aided by her mother and father’s support.

At around 2264, however, her father, Lieutenant Gus Oxheart, tragically died at Raven Rock, causing her mother, Sargent Hodges and Kal herself to have to move to the Boston Enclave Chapter. The two of them stayed at the Southern Enclave Encampment, up until the Brotherhood of Steel discovered the Enclave’s existence in the East, ambushing the Southern and Western Encampments, where most of the Enclave members lived at the time, the year specifically being 2280. Sargent Hodges, seeing as her only daughter was put in danger again, made the executive decision to send Kal to the Eastern Encampment, to not only keep her safe, but to make sure that the Enclave would at least somewhat survive, even if it was only a few members now after the ambush.

On her way to the Eastern Encampment, however, the Brotherhood noticed the group’s Vertibird fleeing, shooting it down, the vertibird crashing just west of Police Precinct 8 . A minutemen patrol team was luckily stationed near the Precinct, and saw the crash, investigating it. They found Kal in the rubble, right hand and left leg completely destroyed by the impact of the crash, with burn scars and major gashes littering her body. They rushed her to Diamond City with the help of being very quick and careful on their feet, constantly jabbing Stimpacks and stray blood packs into her body to compensate for the blood loss and injuries. She is successful in getting to Diamond City on time, gaining two prosthetic limbs and a massive amount of skin-to-scar grafting along the major gashes and some of the more serious burn scars.

Within her months of needing to recover, Sargent Hodges bares witness to someone finding the coordinates to the X02 armor, hunts down the person who had the coordinates, and ultimately dies from her injuries, the person having to flee the bunker after being ambushed by Hodges and her team. As Kal gains a near-full recovery, she gets a signal from her mother requesting backup, but is still too injured to try and find her just yet. When Kal does fully recover, she heads straight to the Valentine Detective Agency in hopes that they would have even a chance at finding Hodges’ last location, dead or alive.

During the case to find Hodges, however, Kal sees how happy everyone is in Diamond City, starting to regret her actions within the Enclave. It’s also during this time that she finds herself developing feelings for Nick Valentine, as he showed genuine interest in her story when Kal was first interviewed by him. Although, she did leave out the fact that she was of the Enclave, fearing she would be taken away by Diamond City police, or worse, killed on site by them. Once they get to the bunker, however, Nick figures out she’s (now formerly) apart of the Enclave, feeling betrayed and angry at her. She tries to explain herself before Hodges’ backup team discovers them, not realizing it was Kal, considering that the Enclave presumed her as dead after the crash. She takes the chance to redeem herself by killing off the backup, but Nick still feels slightly betrayed by her, even if he forgave her in the end. Grabbing the X02 armor, Kal and Nick get out of the bunker, heading back to Diamond City, Nick staying in his office and Kal going for a drink after feeling the guilt of her actions weigh her down. She falls asleep at the Dugout Inn, but not before renting a room. She would’ve gone back to the Detective Agency, but she knew Nick probably wouldn’t want to talk to her for a while after all that happened. She starts getting dreams of him, regretting what she had done, deeply missing him, either craving his gentle embrace or trying to find how to explain everything to him. She keeps herself from Nick for a few days until Kal convinces herself to write to Nick to at least tell him why she lied to him, and Nick is surprised when Kal tells her full story, and how she realized just how bad the Enclave was and how she felt the need to hide it as to not only keep herself safe, but to try and keep her past self as far away from the present her as possible. In a moment of vulnerability, she admits her feelings as well, Nick being caught off guard by her feelings, but not necessarily scared or upset by them, just confused that a woman like her would fall for a synth like him.

Kal leaves Diamond City in her shame, knowing that her secret could be revealed by the public at any moment if someone got their hands on her letter to Nick, residing in Goodneighbor and working for K-L-E-0 in hopes to restart her life and become a bounty hunter. The dreams of Nick persist still, to the point where she constantly keeps a holotape of his voice on hand and a photo of him taped to the back of the tape, desperately trying not to forget the only person she had to in her life after mother’s death.

____________________________________________

Woo that’s it hope u like it :3 I’ll b making angst posts of the bunker scene hopefully here soon so look out for that :>

[i-am-thevoid]

I think i had more fun determining the engines used in an environmental piece used in Fallout New Vegas than i did playing the game (the engines are WILDLY inaccurate)

[aqours]

New Vegas mod opinion

if it goes out of its way to shit on Ulysses, it's villain will almost definitely be an infinitely shittier version of him

[victoryrifle]

me @ the new fallout trailer!!!!

[helvegen-s]

a calculated risk

an Oscar Piastri one-shot

Summary: Oscar Piastri's disciplined world spins off-axis when he meets Elena Sainz. The catch? She's Carlos Sainz's sister. Their intense connection sparks a forbidden romance, pushing them into a reckless game of secrecy and desire. When the truth explodes, will their love survive the fallout?

Word count: 12k (i tried, i really tried to make it shorter...)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, strong language, alcohol

A/N: what. the fuck. was. today's race. do not talk to me about it, do not mention it. this year's season starts the 23rd of march in china. australia never happened.

masterlist

Oscar Piastri had learned to tune out the noise.

The Formula 1 paddock was controlled chaos, a symphony of roaring engines, overlapping conversations, and orders shouted through radios. But none of it fazed him. He moved through the garages and meetings with the same methodical calm he carried into every corner on track. His world was simple: improve, win, move forward.

And then she arrived.

Elena Sainz stepped into the paddock at the start of the 2024 season as if she had always belonged there—walking with quiet confidence, wearing a look he knew all too well. Because it was the same one Carlos gave him just before a race. He had seen her before, of course. There were photos of her on Sainz’s social media, Instagram stories of them cycling, on a yacht, at the family estate. But until that moment, he had never really paid attention.

The problem was, now he couldn’t stop.

The first time he saw her in her new role was at the pre-season press conference in Bahrain. She stood beside Carlos, wearing a striking red Ferrari dress, arms crossed, expression neutral as she listened to reporters fire off their questions. She didn’t force a smile, didn’t try to seem approachable. She was just there—assessing, calculating. Watching them all. Watching him.

Oscar kept his composure, as always. But when their eyes met, a sharp jolt of electricity ran down his spine.

Later, he made the comment without thinking too much about it.

"Since when do you have a personal assistant?"

Carlos, scrolling through something on his phone, didn’t even look up.

"She’s not my assistant."

"Oh, right, my bad." Oscar rolled his eyes with exaggerated dramatics. "What’s the correct term now? Trusted advisor?"

"Manager."

The voice wasn’t Carlos’.

Oscar turned just in time to see her approaching at a measured pace. Elena Sainz stopped beside them, offering him a half-smile that was anything but friendly.

"Elena Sainz, by the way." She extended her hand effortlessly. "But if you need to call me something else, I can give you a few suggestions."

It took Oscar a second to react before he shook her hand. Her skin was cold from the water bottle she held in the other, but her grip was firm. Confident. Irritatingly confident.

"How generous."

"They say it’s one of my best qualities." Elena tilted her head slightly, her expression composed but with a glint of amusement in her eyes. "That, and my ability to stay one step ahead."

Carlos clicked his tongue, clearly entertained.

"Give it a month, Piastri. Once you see how she works, you’ll be terrified."

"Oh, I already know." Oscar let go of Elena’s hand with practiced ease, as if he had felt absolutely nothing. As if his brain wasn’t still processing the intensity of her gaze. "I’m just surprised she didn’t put ‘master strategist’ on her business card."

Elena leaned against the table and shrugged.

"I figured ‘Carlos Sainz’s manager’ was enough to make it clear what I’m made of."

Oscar held her gaze a second longer than he should have.

Carlos cleared his throat.

"Alright, children. I’d rather not have my own manager fired on her first day."

Elena let out a quiet laugh before straightening up.

"Don’t worry, Carlos. I can handle it."

She met Oscar’s eyes once more before turning away, walking off with the same confidence she had arrived with.

Oscar exhaled through his nose and looked back at Carlos.

"I don’t like her."

Carlos smirked over the rim of his water bottle.

"Sure you don’t."

Oscar took a slow sip of his own drink, watching Elena’s figure on the other side of the room.

The problem was, he also couldn’t stop looking at her.

Oscar thought it would pass.

That the irritation Elena Sainz stirred in him would fade with time, like the foam on a beer after a toast. That her presence in the paddock would blend into the background, just another familiar face in a sea of them.

He was wrong.

Elena wasn’t like the other newcomers to Formula 1—the ones who arrived tentatively, trying to fit into the finely tuned machinery of a team. No. She was already fitted in. She already belonged.

The worst part was, she knew it.

Oscar saw it in the way she moved through the Ferrari garage, in how effortlessly she spoke to engineers, mechanics, and executives. In how Carlos barely had to glance at her for her to know exactly what he needed.

But most of all, he saw it in the way she looked at him.

It was a game. And he wasn’t sure when, exactly, it had started.

Maybe it was in Jeddah, when they crossed paths in a narrow hallway and she slipped past him with a barely audible whisper:

"Do you always walk that stiffly, or is it just when I’m around?"

Or in Melbourne, when he passed by the hospitality area and saw her leaning against a railing, sipping coffee with infuriating ease. When their eyes met, she raised an eyebrow and mused, just loud enough over the ambient noise:

"You don’t seem like a coffee person. I’d say hot chocolate. With marshmallows, maybe?"

Oscar frowned, not understanding why that threw him off so much.

Or perhaps it was in Japan, at one of those post-race parties where the noise and lights made everything feel a little more unreal. She was on the other side of the room, laughing at something someone had said, and then—without warning—she looked right at him. Champagne glass in hand, wearing that enigmatic half-smile that made him want to cut through the crowd just to see if, up close, she would smile at him the same way.

It was subtle. Insidious.

And Oscar was losing.

Because for every comment she made, he had a response ready on the tip of his tongue. Because every time she looked at him with that glint of mischief, he found himself searching for her in a room, waiting to see how long it would take for her to provoke him again.

Because, no matter how much he denied it, he loved the damn game.

Then came China.

It was no secret that Ferrari and McLaren were locked in a tight battle in the championship. Carlos, Leclerc, and Lando were fighting for points race after race, and Oscar, of course, was right in the middle of it all.

The weekend had been tense. During the press conference, Oscar tossed a casual remark at Carlos as they settled into their seats.

"Careful tomorrow, Sainz. I’d hate to see you in a wall just for the sake of tradition."

Carlos rolled his eyes, but it was the quiet laugh to his right that really caught his attention.

Elena stood with her arms crossed, expression neutral but with that glint in her eyes. As Oscar walked past her after the interviews, she glanced sideways at him.

Elena tilted her head, somewhere between amused and analytical.

"Interesting. I wonder if your confidence is real, or if you’re just used to faking it."

Oscar didn’t blink.

"I wonder the same about you."

Elena smiled, making no effort to deny anything.

"I suppose we’ll both find out."

Oscar held her gaze a moment longer before letting out a quiet laugh.

"I hope you won’t be disappointed by mine."

"I hope the same." She shrugged before turning on her heel. "Though, if I am… I’ll be sure to let you know."

And with that, she walked away.

Oscar exhaled, realizing too late that he had been holding his breath.

He was definitely losing.

This year, Miami had a different kind of energy.

Maybe it was the atmosphere—the sticky heat creeping under clothes, the constant mix of music and engines in the air. Maybe it was the tension in the championship, the ever-tightening battle, the sense that every race mattered more than the last.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was her.

Elena had been at every Grand Prix since the season started. But this weekend, for some reason, her presence felt heavier.

And then came Saturday night.

And the elevator.

The entire hotel was asleep.

Miami was a city of excess, of bright lights and incessant noise, but at that moment, inside the luxury skyscraper, everything was calm.

The only signs of life were a couple of employees walking silently down the hallways, and the two of them, waiting for the elevator in the lobby.

Oscar couldn't sleep. He had spent the last hour wandering around the hotel, without any particular destination, hoping that fatigue would hit him suddenly and send him to bed. It didn't work.

Elena, on the other hand, had just closed her laptop after losing track of time at the bar, going over a couple of public relations matters for Carlos. The glass of wine she’d been sipping on was still evident in the slight flush on her cheeks and the languid way she held her purse.

Neither of them said anything when they saw each other.

The tension from the past few weeks still hung in the air, like a storm that never quite broke. Oscar gave her a brief nod, and she did the same, but the silence between them felt heavier than usual.

The elevator was taking too long.

Oscar couldn’t help but glance sideways at Elena, noticing the subtle movement of her fingers on the strap of her purse. Impatient.

“Working late?” he finally asked, his voice low, just to fill the void.

She turned her head slightly, sizing him up before responding.

“Not everyone has the luxury of walking around the hotel when they can’t sleep.”

Oscar gave a wry smile.

“Yeah, well. Not everyone has the need to manage their brother’s public image every weekend.”

Elena squinted at him.

“It’s an easier job than you think.”

“Of course. Carlos never says anything out of line, never stirs controversy, never gets into trouble.”

“Exactly.”

Oscar let out a brief laugh through his nose, but the sound quickly died when the elevator finally arrived, its doors opening with a soft “ding.”

They stepped inside together.

The doors closed. The elevator shut with a soft click and began to move as normal.

Oscar leaned his back against the padded wall and let his head fall back, exhaling slowly. Elena did the same in front of him, though with more grace. She held her purse with both hands in front of her, as if she needed something to hold onto.

The silence was so thick that the faint hum of the elevator’s motor seemed deafening.

Oscar felt the weight of the day accumulating on his shoulders, in his breathing. He wasn’t sure why insomnia was worse tonight, why his body refused to rest. Or rather, he knew why, but he wasn’t in the mood to admit it. Not when the reason was standing right in front of him.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped abruptly.

There was no jolt, no harsh shake, just a sharp stop, accompanied by a momentary blackout in the control buttons.

 Elena straightened immediately.

“What the hell...?”

Oscar looked at the panel, hoping the light for the floor they were heading to would turn back on. It didn’t.

He didn’t feel the elevator moving again either.

Elena pressed a button. Then another. Then several, more insistently.

Nothing.

She turned her head toward Oscar, and he could see the exact moment she realized the situation.

“No.” She shook her head, almost as if she could reverse it. “No way.”

Oscar blinked slowly.

“I think we’re stuck.”

Elena closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.

“No shit, Sherlock. How did you deduce that?”

He smiled because it came naturally, because there was something almost amusing about seeing her flustered.

“Calm down. It won’t be for long.”

Elena didn’t respond. She just pressed her lips together in a tense line and went back to pressing the buttons, as if the elevator would give in to her persistence.

The panel didn’t even beep.

She sighed and pressed the emergency button.

The speaker crackled with static before a sleepy voice responded:

“Yes?”

Elena leaned toward the microphone urgently.

“We’re stuck in the elevator.”

There was a pause. Then, a yawn.

“Oh. Okay.”

Elena frowned.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. It’s probably a temporary glitch. These things happen when the system resets in the early hours.”

Oscar and Elena exchanged a look.

“How long until it works again?” Oscar asked.

“Mmm… a few minutes. Half an hour at most.”

Elena threw her head back and closed her eyes, as if she needed all the patience in the world not to explode.

“Great.”

The intercom voice came through again.

“If it still doesn’t respond in a while, we’ll call maintenance. Don’t worry.”

There was a click, and then, just silence.

Oscar watched Elena cautiously, waiting for her reaction.

She looked back at him.

Then, she exhaled a long sigh before slowly sliding down the wall of the elevator until she was sitting on the floor, her legs crossed and her head resting against the padded panel.

Oscar raised an eyebrow.

“Giving up that easily?”

“No. I’m just adapting.”

Oscar watched her for a second longer, then shrugged and did the same.

It didn’t make sense to stay standing, after all.

The elevator was dim, lit only by the faint emergency light. It was late. Almost no one was awake in the hotel. There was no sound beyond the static hum of the machinery and their own breathing. The air was thick, charged with something neither of them knew how to handle.

Elena pulled out her phone, checking it out of habit, though she didn’t expect to find anything.

"No signal." Her voice was low, almost as if she didn’t want to break the silence between them.

"Perfect. Now you have no excuse to be watching nonsense on TikTok."

Elena narrowed her eyes, smiling faintly, but the mockery in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

"And what are you going to do? Philosophize about life in the dark?"

Oscar looked at her, clearly amused. The sarcasm in her voice had vanished, replaced by something... closer. Something more intense.

"Maybe." He replied, still holding onto his attitude. But that spark of playfulness was there, a touch of complicity that was growing stronger, more palpable.

Elena didn’t say anything else. She remained silent for a few seconds, fiddling with her phone in her hands while the elevator stayed still.

Oscar watched how the soft light reflected on her face. Every small movement she made was a reminder of how close she was to him, of how their bodies seemed to be drawing closer without either of them planning it. It was hard not to notice how the proximity between them was increasing, how the electricity between their skins seemed to grow more intense with every passing second.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"You’ve never been very subtle, have you, Piastri?"

He smiled, but the smile wasn’t mocking. It was different, like he was recognizing her in some way.

"I don’t like wasting time."

Elena looked at him with something more than amusement in her eyes, as though she was evaluating every word, every reaction. Her legs shifted slowly, and without thinking, she let her knee brush against his. A soft touch, almost imperceptible, but close enough for both of them to feel it.

Oscar swallowed, his chest tightening with that rapid heartbeat he couldn’t ignore. The tension between them was almost tangible, a weight neither of them could shake off.

She leaned slightly towards him, not breaking eye contact, and their voices softened further, becoming more intimate, more personal.

"You know," she said quietly. "I wonder how much longer you’re going to keep denying it."

Oscar didn’t answer.

Because he knew exactly what she was talking about.

Because he couldn’t pretend he didn’t feel the raw energy between them, that insistent attraction that grew with every held glance, every accidental touch, every provocation disguised as indifference.

Because he knew she knew it too.

Elena raised an eyebrow, waiting. Challenging.

Oscar closed his eyes for a second.

He took a deep breath.

But when he opened them again, Elena was even closer.

He could see every detail of her face. He could count the centimeters between them. Every freckle that adorned her tan skin. He could hear her breath, feel her warm breath grazing his skin, the hint of wine lingering from the glass she must’ve had earlier at the hotel bar.

It was a trap. And he knew it.

But he didn’t move.

Because, damn it, he didn’t want to move.

Elena’s fingers grazed his forearm, just a touch, an experiment.

Oscar felt his skin light up instantly.

"This is a fucking terrible idea," he muttered.

"Yeah?" Elena tilted her head slightly, letting the tension pull them together like an invisible thread. "Then tell me you don’t want it."

Oscar didn’t answer.

Because he did want it.

He wanted it with an absurd intensity, with an urgency that had been consuming him from the moment he saw her in the paddock at the start of the season.

But he shouldn’t.

The elevator beeped and came to life with a jolt.

Oscar reacted immediately, like a spring releasing. He stood up quickly, not thinking. The muscles in his legs tensed, and his torso straightened abruptly. A rushed, almost desperate movement, as if escaping the situation was the only way out.

Elena stayed on the floor of the elevator, watching him with that half-mocking, half-challenging smile, not moving. The position she was in, her knees bent, her eyes fixed on him, gave her a sense of power and control that bordered on indecent. Every inch of her body seemed to dare him to give in.

Oscar tried to look away, but his eyes inevitably returned to her. He knew he should leave, that he shouldn’t give in to what he wanted, to what his body was asking for, but... Elena was there, so close, so willing, and he was about to lose it all.

With a sharp movement, he tried to step towards the exit, distancing himself from her, avoiding any contact. He shouldn’t look at her anymore, shouldn’t think about it anymore.

But the damage was done. His mind was filled with images of her, from the most innocent to the most lewd thing he could have ever imagined.

Oscar quickly turned, as if the mere act of looking at her one more second would lead him to ruin. He walked towards the elevator’s exit, his pace quickening, and once he crossed the threshold, he breathed deeply, as if trying to expel all the accumulated tension from his body.

Elena didn’t say anything. She made no move. She stayed there, on the floor of the elevator, watching him walk away with a barely visible smile on her lips.

Oscar took a few steps, stopping at the end of the hallway before turning back, looking at her again, feeling the magnetism drawing him toward her. His body was begging to return, begging for more. But he stood firm.

In the end, he didn’t turn back.

But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time.

By the time Oscar reached his room, he felt like he was about to throw up everything he had eaten in the last twenty-four hours. What had just happened? Had he just dreamed all that?

He collapsed onto the bed, his mind spinning while the darkness of the room enveloped him. Tomorrow he had a race, but in that moment, all he could think about was Elena. That damn kiss. What had just happened, and what he still didn’t understand.

The clock read three in the morning. His eyes were heavy, but he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in the bed, uncomfortable. The heat was still there, weighing on his chest, and the memory of her lewd smile wouldn’t leave him alone.

Suddenly, the sound of a knock on the door made him jump. Oscar frowned. Who the hell was knocking at this hour?

He sprang up and approached the door still drowsy, scratching his head, and opened it almost without thinking.

And there she was.

Elena.

Her slender, defined figure stood in the doorway, the hallway light partially illuminating her face, which held a serious expression but with that playful spark in her eyes.

"Am I interrupting?" she said, her tone both cheeky and innocent at the same time.

Oscar stood frozen for a moment, speechless. He couldn’t believe it.

"What are you doing here? How the hell do you know what room I’m in?" he asked, the exhaustion in his voice mixed with a clear sense of bewilderment.

"I speak five languages and I have charisma," she replied, leaning against the door.

Oscar should make a sarcastic comment, something sharp to break the tension, but he can't. Not when he still feels the ghost of her breath trapped between them in that elevator, the images he has tried to push deep into his mind now resurfacing at the worst possible moment.

Elena doesn't say anything. She just looks at him.

Oscar feels the weight of her gaze on every nerve ending.

"Tell me this isn't a bad idea," she whispers, though her tone says she already knows the answer.

Oscar could say many things.

He could remind her who she is. He could tell her that they hate each other, that they don't get along, that they're incompatible. He could remind her who her brother is.

But she steps closer.

And Oscar feels like he's drowning.

It's slow. It's unbearably slow. The ground seems to tilt beneath him as Elena moves a little closer, with the same determination she uses to negotiate contracts and manipulate press conferences. And Oscar, for the first time, has nothing to say.

Because he wants this.

He wants it so much it hurts.

"Tell me to stop," she whispers, but they're already too close, and the air between them is suffocating, electric, sharp like a summer storm.

Oscar says nothing.

And then, finally, he kisses her.

It's soft at first, as if they're still testing the boundaries of something too big to contain. But Elena responds with the same repressed intensity, her nails sliding down his neck, a small gasp smothered against his lips, and then everything crashes, like a snowball tumbling down a cliff.

No more doubts.

No more lines.

Just them.

The room is too small for everything they're feeling.

Oscar pulls her against him with more force than he should. It's not sweet. It's not gentle. It's nothing like it should be. But Elena doesn't want that either. Her hands search for him with the same silent desperation, the same urgency of someone who's been holding back for too long.

Her jacket falls to the floor in one swift motion.

Oscar's hands trace her back, outline the curve of her waist, and when their lips part for just a second, just enough to take a breath, they look at each other like they've just jumped into the void.

No one says anything.

Because there's nothing to say.

Elena grabs his shirt tightly, as if holding onto something. As if she can pretend this isn't tearing everything apart.

And Oscar... Oscar feels like he can finally breathe.

Because this isn't a mistake.

It can't be. It can’t feel this good.

When he kisses her again, Elena moans against his mouth and he feels something inside him break.

And there's no going back.

Clothes disappear somewhere between their broken kisses and the clumsy steps toward the bed. There are no pauses, no space for thought. Only the sound of their ragged breaths and the weight of the inevitable.

Elena is fire in his hands, in his mouth, in the way she touches him like she's discovering something that's always been there, something she's denied for too long. And Oscar... Oscar surrenders.

There's no rivalry, no fear, no one else in the world but her.

When their bodies finally meet, it's a perfect mess. A mix of need and awkwardness, muffled moans and nails marking skin. There are no doubts, no barriers. Just them, consuming each other in the darkness of a hotel room in Miami, not thinking about tomorrow.

Because right now, nothing else matters.

Dawn finds them tangled in the sheets, breaths still ragged, skin warm from what they've just done. Neither of them speaks. There is no room for words in the aftermath they've just unleashed.

Oscar feels the weight of the silence between them, but it's not uncomfortable. Not yet. Elena lies next to him, her face turned toward the ceiling, her hair messy on the pillow. She seems lost in her thoughts, but when Oscar moves his hand, barely grazing her arm, she doesn't pull away.

They shouldn't be here.

They shouldn't have crossed that line.

But they have. And the worst part is that instead of regretting it, Oscar only thinks about doing it again.

"Let's not talk about this, okay?" Elena says, finally breaking the silence.

Her voice is soft, measured, as if she’s testing the waters.

Oscar glances at her out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t want to say anything that will shatter this moment, make it more real than it already is.

"I don’t see what there is to say," he replies, because it’s the truth.

Elena lets out a low, almost ironic laugh and turns toward him, resting her head on her hand. Her eyes scan him with that intensity that drives him crazy, the kind that turns him into a damn fool every time he runs into her in the paddock.

"This doesn’t change anything," she says, with a certainty Oscar doesn’t know whether to envy or fear.

And maybe he should agree. Maybe he should nod, pretend that this was just a bad idea, a momentary mistake they can laugh off later.

But when Elena leans in and gently bites his lower lip before pulling away with a smile that’s pure poison, Oscar knows he’s screwed.

Because this changes everything.

The next morning, Oscar wakes up with the feeling that it was all a dream.

But the lingering warmth on his skin and the slight pressure of the mattress beside him tell him otherwise.

He blinks, trying to clear the fog of sleep, and the first thing he sees is Elena’s profile, sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting the cuff of her blouse. Her hair is still tangled, her neck bearing traces of his mouth, and the sunlight of Miami filters its golden light through the curtains, making her look almost unreal.

She’s fucking beautiful.

And she’s also Carlos Sainz’ sister.

Oscar closes his eyes and curses under his breath.

He feels like he should say something, but his mind is still caught in the image of the night before. How Elena had surrendered to him with the same ferocity with which she looks at him in the paddock. How the tension that had been choking them both for months finally erupted into something neither of them could control.

And now, she’s there. Getting dressed. Preparing to leave.

As if nothing had happened.

As if they hadn’t spent the night devouring each other.

"So, not even a 'good morning' after everything we did last night?" he says, his voice still a little rough from sleep.

Elena doesn't even bother to turn around, though he notices the brief pause in her movements before she slips on her heels.

"Why drag out the inevitable?" she replies, shrugging.

Oscar lets out a low, incredulous laugh.

"The inevitable?"

"That we'll go on with our lives as if this never happened." She finally turns, resting a hand on her hip with that air of superiority that drives him crazy. "I know you can do it, Piastri. If you can keep a poker face after Lando closes you out on track, this shouldn't be a problem."

Oscar watches her closely, looking for any hint of doubt in her expression. He doesn't find any.

"Wow, what an elegant way to say it was a mistake."

Elena gives him a half-smile, as sharp as ever.

"I didn't say it was a mistake. I just said it’s not going to happen again."

Oscar narrows his eyes.

"So this is how we're going to play it?"

"This is how we're going to play it," she replies, with a certainty he knows is just a façade.

Oscar exhales and falls back onto the pillow, running a hand over his face.

"Well, I guess it was a pleasure doing business with you, Sainz."

Elena laughs softly, and that frustrates him more because it sounds genuinely amused, like this is just a simple game she has full control over.

"Take care, Piastri," she says finally, before turning and walking out of the room.

Oscar stares at the ceiling, feeling the echo of her perfume in the air.

Of course. Because this is perfectly normal.

Because he's definitely not about to lose his mind.

And because, evidently, this isn't over. Not by a long shot.

Oscar should have known that "it’s not going to happen again" was the biggest lie of the century.

Because it happens again.

And again.

And again.

In hidden rooms in the paddock, in hotels around the world, in deserted elevators and offices with the door slightly ajar. In any corner where there’s enough shadow for no one to see them, and just enough risk to make their hearts pound in their chests.

The first time he breaks his supposed resolution is at the next Grand Prix, in Ferrari’s hospitality entrance.

Elena is standing with her arms crossed, arguing with Carlos about something related to his race strategy. She’s wearing a fitted black dress with a blazer on top, and Oscar is trying to concentrate on his coffee when she gives him a fleeting glance, barely a second of eye contact that shouldn’t mean anything.

But his spine stiffens instantly.

And when she disappears down the back hall, he knows he’s going to follow her before he even thinks about it.

"I don’t even know why I bother pretending to be strong with you," he murmurs, closing the door behind him just a second before Elena pushes him against the wall and kisses him with a ferocity that leaves him breathless.

"Because you’re proud, Piastri." Her smile is lethal against his lips.

"And you’re a liar," he replies, sliding his hands under her blazer and pressing her against him.

"Yeah?"

"'It’s not going to happen again,'" he mocks, exaggerating her tone.

Elena laughs against his skin, right on the line of his jaw, before whispering in his ear:

"Well, sometimes I say things I don’t mean."

And Oscar, of course, is completely screwed.

After that, things escalate as fast as a Formula 1 car on a straight.

The hotel elevator in Monaco, where they barely manage to pull apart in time when the door opens into the lobby.

The engineers’ room in Canada, where he almost kisses her right next to the menu mural, and she laughs in his face when he stops at the last second.

The back corridor of the paddock in Spain, where he slides his hand across her backside when no one’s looking, and she spends the rest of the day with her skin burning.

"This is a really bad idea," Oscar says that same afternoon, just before he pushes her against the wall of his hotel room and kisses her like his life depends on it.

"A horrible idea," Elena agrees, between gasps.

"We can’t keep doing this."

"Never again."

"Last time."

"Last time," she repeats, her fingers tangled in his hair.

Obviously, they’re doomed.

The problem with saying "last time" is that they never follow through.

Oscar should be worried. Not just because this is getting out of control, but because it’s becoming more reckless with each time. At least in the beginning, they tried to keep it professional during the day and only let themselves go in the privacy of a hotel room at midnight. But now...

Now Elena holds his gaze a little too long in meetings. Now they cross paths in the paddock, and she brushes her fingers against his arm as she passes. Now he sees her sitting next to Carlos in Ferrari’s hospitality, and all he can think about is the way she moaned his name the night before.

It’s a miracle no one has discovered them.

"You’re playing with fire," Lando tells him in Silverstone, after catching Oscar looking toward Elena for the fifth time in half an hour.

Oscar feigns ignorance.

"Sorry?"

"I don’t know what’s going on there, but whatever it is, Carlos is going to kill you."

Oscar scoffs, but something inside him tightens.

Because that’s the other thing: the risk. Not just for his career, not just because if anyone at McLaren finds out, it could be a scandal, but because Carlos Sainz still sees him as a rival, and if he finds out that Oscar is tangled up with his sister, he’ll probably strangle him with his bare hands.

But it’s hard to care about that when she keeps sneaking into his hotel room at midnight.

When she keeps leaving marks on his skin that he has to hide before he puts on his racing suit.

When she smiles at him from across the paddock with that damn expression of "I know exactly what you’re thinking," and Oscar has to bite his tongue to keep from dragging her somewhere private.

It’s not just attraction. It’s something worse.

And the bomb finally explodes in Hungary.

The Hungarian GP should be the best day of his life.

He should be celebrating his first Formula 1 victory, savoring the champagne on the podium, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

But it’s all overshadowed by the controversy, by McLaren’s terrible strategy.

Oscar shouldn’t feel guilty for winning, but he does.

People are hugging him, patting him on the back, congratulating him like nothing happened. Lando is professional in front of the cameras, but in the garage, his expression is tense. He wanted that win. He deserved it. But the strategy benefited Oscar, and now it’s impossible to enjoy it.

He hasn’t seen Elena since he stepped off the podium.

Maybe he should be glad about that. After all, this is what they had agreed on: a game with no feelings, no strings attached, no complications.

When he arrives at the hotel, his room is completely dark.

Oscar closes the door behind him and stands in the middle of the room, not turning on the light, not moving.

He doesn't know what to do with himself.

He should be happy. Euphoric. Victorious. But all that’s in his chest is an indescribable weight, something that suffocates him, that tangles his thoughts until he doesn't know what to feel.

He clenches his fists. The adrenaline of the day still pulses in his veins, mixed with exhaustion and frustration. He shouldn't feel this way. Not after winning.

The door opens again.

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know it’s her.

Elena enters silently, not turning on the light, saying nothing. She just closes the door and walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge with the same ease with which she’s been invading his life from the start.

Oscar exhales a trembling sigh.

He doesn’t know what pushes him to move, but suddenly his legs give away and he falls to his knees in front of her, his head bowed, his arms powerless at his sides.

And then, he’s resting his forehead on her lap.

Elena doesn’t say anything.

She just runs a hand through his hair with a softness that disarms him.

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut. And he doesn’t know why, but he's crying.

Tears fall without permission, without control, without him being able to stop them.

He doesn’t sob, he doesn’t shake, he doesn’t make any noise. He just feels the heat on his cheeks, the pressure in his chest, his breath ragged.

Elena’s fingers continue in his hair, tracing slow lines, calming him without haste.

“You deserve this,” she whispers, so quietly it almost feels like a secret. “Don’t doubt for a second that this victory is yours. And no one else’s.”

Oscar closes his eyes.

He clings to those words.

To her.

Elena leans over him, her hand tangling in his hair with the same delicacy someone would use to pet a wounded animal.

Oscar feels her breath above his head, warm and steady.

“Look at me,” she says, but he can’t.

Not yet.

He stays there, with his forehead resting on her lap, his hands clenched on her pants, trying to contain something he doesn’t even understand.

“Oscar,” Elena repeats, softer this time, and runs her fingers down his neck. “You deserve this. No matter what anyone else says. No matter what anyone else thinks.”

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut tightly.

“They handed it to me,” he murmurs, his voice broken. “It’s not a real victory.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” she cuts him off without hesitation, but her tone remains sweet, still Elena. “Of course it’s real. You were faster than everyone out there. You didn’t stop fighting. You didn’t stop proving you deserve every second of that podium.”

Oscar swallows hard.

“But Lando…”

“But Lando nothing,” she interrupts him. “You don’t owe anyone an apology. You don’t have to feel guilty for winning.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Oscar,” she insists, and this time she takes his face in her hands, forcing him to lift his head.

Their eyes meet in the dim light of the room.

“Don’t let anyone make you doubt what you are,” she says, and her voice is an anchor, it’s fire, it’s a reminder that she’s here, with him, holding him when he feels like everything else is falling apart. “Today, you won. And you did it.”

Oscar looks at her.

Something inside him breaks, but not in the way he’s felt broken all day.

It’s something else.

Something deeper. Something that scares him.

Because until now, it had been easy to convince himself that what he had with Elena was just physical. A game. Something neither of them would take too seriously.

But here she is, holding him, seeing him, telling him what he needs to hear at the exact moment he needs to hear it.

And Oscar knows he’s fucked.

Elena keeps holding his face, her touch firm and sure, as if with just her contact she could return the stability he feels crumbling inside him.

Oscar wants to speak. He wants to say something that will lighten the weight in his chest. But all he does is inhale, deeply and brokenly, clinging to the feeling of her hands on his skin.

“Breathe,” Elena tells him, with a sweetness that’s almost his undoing.

So, he does.

He forces himself to fill his lungs with air and let it out slowly, as if with every exhale, he could release the knot in his throat, the doubt, the resentment towards himself.

Elena slides her thumbs over his cheeks, with a tenderness that’s almost unfamiliar to him.

“That’s it,” she murmurs. “That’s better.”

Oscar closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, she’s still there, watching him with that intensity that always disarms him.

And it’s in that moment when he realizes.

How fucking easy it would be to fall in love with her.

Because if Elena can see him like this, completely undone, and still look at him like he’s the same confident and determined driver everyone thinks he is… what else is she seeing in him that he himself can’t even recognize?

The thought terrifies him. Terrifies him a lot.

So he does the only thing he knows how to do: he straightens up, pulls away, rebuilds the distance he’s been ignoring between them since this started.

Elena lets him do it, but her eyes follow him with a look of understanding that unsettles him.

The silence between them is thick, heavy with something Oscar can no longer ignore. He has pulled away, tried to regain his composure, but it’s useless. He can still feel her touch on his skin, still hear her voice in his head, still see those eyes piercing through him as if they had always known the exact point to strike to bring him down.

"This isn’t just physical, is it?" His own voice sounds foreign, low, and almost trembling. As if, by saying it out loud, he’s admitting to something far greater.

Elena doesn’t seem surprised. She doesn’t lower her gaze, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t back away. There’s no fear or uncertainty in her expression, only the same certainty that has driven him insane from the very start.

"It never was."

Oscar swallows hard, his chest rising and falling with something he can’t tell if it’s relief or terror. Or both at the same time.

"From the moment I saw you in the paddock," she continues, her voice calm, steady, "I knew I was going to fall for you. It was inevitable. And when you looked at me for the first time, I knew you were going to fall, too."

Oscar blinks, surprised by how easily she says it. As if it’s a simple truth, an undeniable fact. And maybe it was. Maybe this was never in his control.

Somehow, that makes him laugh. He drops his head, a rough, resigned chuckle escaping his lips, because of course Elena knew before he did. Of course she had already figured it out while he was busy pretending it wasn’t happening.

When he looks at her again, it’s with different eyes. With the eyes of someone who knows he’s lost, that there’s no turning back.

"You’re unbearable," he mutters, but there’s a smile on his face.

Elena smiles too. And Oscar knows, with terrifying certainty, that he’s screwed. Completely, irreversibly screwed.

Oscar still stands before her, in the dim light of the room. His hands, still clenched into fists, gradually relax. Elena remains seated at the edge of the bed, her posture at ease but her gaze intense, fixed on him, as if she already knows what he’s going to do before he does.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, his voice low, as if speaking in a space that belongs only to the two of them.

Elena leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. The soft light of the room traces the curve of her face, her collarbone, the golden sheen of her skin still warm from the Hungarian summer. Oscar swallows.

"We could keep pretending nothing’s happening," she suggests, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Oscar scoffs, glancing down at his own hands before refocusing on her. "Great idea. That’s worked brilliantly so far."

Elena lets out a soft laugh, a low sound that skims over his skin. Then, with the same tranquility as always, she straightens up and rests her hands on the mattress, tilting her head in thought.

"We keep it a secret a little longer," she finally says. "We explore… this."

Oscar frowns, his pulse still erratic from everything they’ve just admitted.

"This?"

"Whatever is happening between us," she explains, her hand making a subtle gesture between them. "No pressure, no expectations. Just… letting it grow."

Oscar feels his breathing deepen slightly, as if his body is trying to absorb the calm in Elena’s voice. He doesn’t know what he expected her to say, but now that he hears it, he realizes this is the only thing that makes sense.

"Improvising?" he asks, his tone lighter, though something still lingers in his chest.

Elena nods slowly. "Improvising."

Oscar sinks back onto his knees, closer this time, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress, just inches from hers. The room seems to shrink, narrowing down to the proximity of their bodies, to the warm, settled tension between them.

He looks at her and, instead of doubt, all he sees in her is certainty. As if she has known from the start that this was the only possible outcome.

"We’re screwed, aren’t we?" he murmurs, almost smiling.

Elena tilts her head, her fingers barely brushing against Oscar’s on the bed. A small, fleeting contact, but one that electrifies the space between them.

"Up to our necks."

Oscar exhales slowly and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling as if he might find some kind of answer there. But there are no answers—only the undeniable reality that, for the first time, they are acknowledging what’s between them without pretending it doesn’t exist.

Elena shifts on the bed and pats the mattress beside her, a silent invitation. There’s no ulterior motive in the gesture, no expectation, and maybe that’s what makes Oscar surrender so easily. He lies down beside her, his head resting on the pillow, leaving a small space between them.

And for the first time since this began, there’s no urgency, no hands exploring skin, no breath-stealing kisses. They’re just there, sharing the same air, seeing each other without the barrier of immediate desire.

They talk.

At first, about absurd things. Silly habits, likes they’ve never admitted to each other. Elena sleeps with socks on, even in the summer, and Oscar looks at her in horror when she says it. He has a specific routine for putting on his gloves before getting in the car, and she laughs because her brother does the same.

Then come childhood stories, dreams they once had and those they still chase. Elena tells him she wanted to be an astronaut as a child but got too dizzy in space simulators. Oscar confesses he’s still not entirely used to fame, that sometimes he misses being anonymous.

As the night stretches on and the conversation slows, words tangling with sleepiness, Oscar turns on his side and watches her.

"Did you know this was going to happen?" he asks quietly.

Elena blinks slowly and smiles, with that air of confidence that undoes him.

"I knew the moment you saw me in the paddock."

Oscar scoffs, half amused, half resigned. "How convenient."

"Not my fault you’re so predictable."

Oscar laughs and covers his face with his hand for a moment before rolling onto his back again.

"I’m going to hate myself for saying this, but… I think I like that about you."

Elena glances at him out of the corner of her eye, her smile needing no words to be understood.

And just like that, without realizing it, they fall asleep.

The break doesn’t last long.

During the Belgian Grand Prix, everything appears to be the same: the same fleeting touches when no one is looking, the same encounters in empty hallways, the same tension whenever they’re too close. But now, there’s something more. Something in the way Oscar looks for her before getting into the car, in the way Elena lingers a second too long when fixing the collar of the shirt she so boldly ripped off his body just ten minutes ago. Something in the way their fingers brush when she hands him a bottle of water right after, in the way they look at each other when they think no one is watching.

And when Oscar crosses the finish line, knowing he’ll be on the podium again, his first instinct isn’t to celebrate—it’s to find her. Standing on the podium, adrenaline still rushing through his body and the trophy in his hand, his eyes scan the crowd until they lock onto Elena’s. And when she smiles at him, he feels like he could live in that moment forever.

That night at the hotel feels different again. Instead of immediately losing themselves in each other, they collapse onto the bed to watch the race replay. And when the camera shows Oscar on the podium, smiling with pure happiness, eyes bright and expression open, Elena can’t hold back. She lets out a laugh so loud it echoes through the room.

Oscar, confused, turns to her with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

Elena, trying to hold back her laughter, points at the screen. “Your lovesick puppy face.”

Oscar follows the direction of her finger, and then he sees it. Sees himself. And he can’t do anything but laugh, because it’s true. The camera caught the exact moment he found Elena in the crowd, and the expression on his face leaves no room for doubt.

“I do not have a lovesick puppy face,” he protests, but his own laughter betrays any attempt at indignation.

Elena turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oscar, darling. Let’s just pray no one else notices, because it would be hard to deny the accusations.”

And with that, they laugh until tears stream down their faces, until they’re breathless, until Oscar, with his head resting on Elena’s stomach, feels something dangerously close to the simplest, purest kind of happiness.

Because for the second time, they don’t need to hide in passion, in desire. For the second time, they enjoy each other’s company without sex getting in the way.

Just them.

Elena wakes up to the weight of an arm draped over her waist and the muffled sounds of the city filtering through the hotel window. She blinks, still caught between sleep and wakefulness, acutely aware of the warmth pressed against her back, of the slow, steady breath against her neck.

Oscar.

Recognition comes at the same time as reality—the grayish dawn light in Belgium, the distant hum of traffic, the calendar marking the end of a weekend that has changed everything.

And the certainty that in less than two hours, she’ll be on a plane back to Madrid.

She sighs, shifting slightly under Oscar’s arm. He grumbles in protest, tightening his hold on her, as if his subconscious understands what’s about to happen before he does.

“I have to go,” she whispers, though she doesn’t move.

Oscar doesn’t respond immediately. His breath is heavy against her shoulder, still half-asleep, and when he finally mumbles something, his voice is rough.

“Five more minutes.”

Elena smiles softly, but she knows she can’t give in.

“Carlos is waiting for me downstairs. If I take too long, he’s coming up to get me.”

Oscar sighs and, at last, loosens his arm. When she turns to face him, she finds his face buried in the pillow, brows furrowed, hair a complete mess. He looks like a grumpy little kid refusing to start the day.

“Don’t make that face,” she teases, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes.

Oscar lifts his head just enough to squint at her.

“What face?”

“That one. The ‘I’m going to be a martyr because the girl I like is leaving me in a hotel’ face.”

He clicks his tongue and flops back onto the pillow with dramatic flair.

“Slander.”

Elena lets out a quiet laugh as she ties her laces. Then, unhurriedly, she leans toward him, pressing a hand into the mattress as her lips brush his cheek.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Oscar doesn’t reply right away. He just looks at her. But there’s something in his expression—in the way he watches her, in how his hand grips the edge of the sheet like he’s about to say something else—that makes her hesitate.

Because for the first time since this started, they realize they’ve never gone this long without seeing each other.

And they don’t know what that will feel like.

Elena should stand up and leave. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lets her gaze trace over his face, memorizing every detail. Oscar looks back at her just as intently, and then, without thinking too much, she leans in and kisses him.

It’s brief, but not rushed. There’s no desperation, no urgency—just the certainty that she wants him. That even if they go in opposite directions, even if weeks pass without seeing each other, what they have won’t fade with distance.

When they pull apart, Oscar watches her with a mix of surprise and something else—something she doesn’t want to analyze too closely right now.

“That was unfair,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep.

Elena smiles.

“You’ll survive.”

And before he can argue, she gets to her feet, grabs her bag, and walks out the door.

It clicks shut.

And Oscar is alone.

For a few seconds, he just lies there, staring at the ceiling, the warmth of Elena’s kiss still lingering on his lips.

It’s not the first time he’s watched her leave. They’ve had plenty of quiet goodbyes—in hotel hallways, in elevators, in hidden corners of the paddock where no one was looking. But this one feels different. Heavier.

He sighs, running a hand over his face before forcing himself to get up.

The room still smells like her. It’s a ridiculous thing to notice, but he does—when he moves, when he picks up his clothes from the floor, when he starts stuffing them into the open suitcase beside the bed. There’s something mechanical about the act of folding t-shirts and layering them over piles of laundry, of zipping up the suitcase with a sharp click, of mentally checking if he’s forgotten anything.

For some reason, it annoys him.

He’s supposed to be looking forward to the summer break. Four weeks with no races, no flights every other day, no endless motorhome meetings. It’s what he’s been waiting for.

But now that it’s here—now that the door has closed and Elena is gone—it doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Oscar picks it up without thinking, expecting a message from his mother or the team. But no.

Elena: I hope you’ve at least gotten out of bed. Don’t blame me when you realize you’re running late for the airport.

He exhales a small laugh, leaning against the desk. Of course Elena is the first to text. She always seems one step ahead of him.

Oscar: Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me first thing in the morning?

It takes less than ten seconds for a reply.

Elena: I have an hour-long drive ahead of me. Consider this an act of charity.

Oscar shakes his head, barely noticing the way a smile tugs at his lips.

After a moment, his fingers slide over the screen again.

Oscar: Do you miss me already?

This time, the reply takes a little longer. As if Elena is actually thinking about it.

Finally, his screen lights up.

Elena: Keep dreaming.

Oscar sets the phone back down on the nightstand, still smiling faintly, but the feeling in his chest doesn’t fade.

Because, deep down, he already misses her.

He has barely stepped into the terminal when he spots his mother.

She’s standing there, arms crossed, a knowing little smirk on her face—like she knows something he doesn’t. Or worse: like she knows something he thinks he’s hidden well.

And then he sees it.

The phone in her hand. The screen lit up.

And a crystal-clear image of his own face on the Belgian Grand Prix podium, wearing the most obvious, irrefutable, damning expression he’s ever had in his life.

That damn photo.

Oscar stops dead in his tracks, the exhaustion from the flight hitting him all at once, mixed with pure, knee-jerk denial.

“No.”

His mother doesn’t even blink.

“Yes.”

“I don’t make that face.”

“Oh, darling…” she sighs, holding the screen closer to him, as if that was necessary. “You have exactly that face.”

Oscar grimaces, shifting his gaze to anything else—the people walking by, the luggage carts, the absurdly patterned airport carpet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His mother raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?” She swipes across the screen and shows him another image, this time a video capturing the exact moment his face changes when he spots Elena in the crowd. “And what’s this, then?”

Oscar clenches his jaw, cursing internally at the cameraman who managed to capture that moment so precisely.

“I was…” He trails off, desperately searching for an excuse. But there isn’t one. Because he knows exactly why he had that expression. He knows exactly who he was looking at. And he knows that his mother knows, too.

She waits, patient, with that look that has been disarming him since childhood.

Oscar exhales, defeated.

“Can I at least get a coffee before the interrogation?”

His mother smirks, turning toward the exit.

“Oh, of course. But don’t think you’re getting away with this, darling. We have a lot to talk about.”

For Elena, summers at home have always had their own rhythm, a routine shaped by the heat, sports, and family. And she enjoys it. She needs it, even. After months of airports, race tracks, and frantic schedules, there’s something comforting about returning to familiar sounds—the echo of footsteps on stone floors, the rustling leaves stirred by the wind, the laughter of her sisters in the garden.

But this summer is different.

Because, for the first time, there’s something—someone—outside of this world occupying her mind more than it should.

She tells herself it’s absurd, that it’s not like they’re going years without seeing each other. It’s just a month. Four weeks. Thirty days.

And yet, every night, as the rest of the house sleeps, she feels the buzz of her phone under her pillow, and her heart skips a beat.

Oscar.

Oscar: What is Carlos Sainz’s favorite sister doing on a random Tuesday?

Elena: Trying not to get caught texting you. And you?

Oscar: Counting the days until I can see you roll your eyes at me in person again.

Elena bites her lip, hiding a smile in the darkness.

Elena: I’d love to say I don’t miss you at all.

Oscar: But you can’t.

No. She can’t.

And it’s ridiculous because she keeps herself busy. She wakes up early to go hiking with her father and Carlos. She plays football with her cousins in the garden. She joins Carlos and his friends on their cycling routes, challenging each other to climb the mountain passes faster, both acting more like kids than fully grown adults.

And in the middle of it all, she always finds a moment.

A stolen minute under the shade of a secluded tree to call him. A quick text while changing shoes. A picture of Carlos falling off his bike, his foot still clipped to the pedal, captioned: I miss you, but this makes up for it a little.

Oscar’s reply comes instantly.

Oscar: You’re lucky I like you this much.

Elena chuckles softly, leaning her head back against the tree trunk.

She knows this is dangerous. The more they get used to this, the harder it will be to go back to their respective lives, each on opposite ends of the globe.

But right now, she doesn’t care.

It’s the middle of the night, and she’s been asleep for a couple of hours when the vibration of her phone pulls her from sleep.

Elena blinks into the darkness of her room, disoriented, her heart beating slow and heavy in her chest. She reaches blindly toward her nightstand, fumbling until her fingers find the device.

The screen lights up the dim room.

Oscar.

It’s four in the morning in Madrid. Two in the afternoon in Melbourne.

She presses her lips together before swiping to accept the call, bringing the phone to her ear as she sinks into her pillow.

“Do you know what time it is?” Her voice is a hoarse whisper from sleep.

On the other end, Oscar lets out a quiet laugh.

“I knew you were awake.”

Elena closes her eyes and exhales slowly.

“I wasn’t. Until you decided to call me.”

“Well, if you answered, that means you don’t hate me that much,” he teases.

Elena doesn’t respond right away. She turns onto her side, hugging her pillow as she focuses on the sound of his voice.

“How are you?” she finally asks, calmer now.

“Tired,” Oscar admits. “It’s weird being back here.”

She understands. They’ve both returned to the normalcy of their own lives, but nothing feels normal. Miami, Silverstone, Budapest, Spa… all those weekends together feel like a world apart. And now, here they are, separated by thousands of miles, pretending everything is the same.

“What about you?” he asks.

Elena burrows a little deeper under the blankets, a small smile on her lips.

“I did a brutal cycling route with Carlos today. Nearly died by the time we reached the mountain pass, and Carlos laughed at me.”

Oscar chuckles.

“I find that hard to believe.”

"That I almost died or that I made it to the summit?"

"That you almost died," he replies casually. "You're stronger than Carlos, and you know it."

Elena feels the warmth spreading in her chest but ignores it.

"Tell him that. He called me a 'rookie.'"

"That’s just his wounded pride talking."

She smiles, letting herself get carried away by the familiarity of the conversation. They talk about everything and nothing. He tells her about his mother’s cooking and how his dog has decided to ignore him for being away so long. She tells him how her father spent the afternoon teaching Rebecca to drive on dirt roads, with Carlos and her yelling from the back seat.

The conversation flows easily, without awkward pauses. Every time silence threatens to settle in, one of them finds something else to say. But at some point, the conversation shifts. It becomes quieter.

"I miss you," Oscar says suddenly, with a sincerity that disarms her.

Elena doesn’t answer right away. Not because she doesn’t feel the same, but because she feels too much.

"I miss you too," she murmurs at last, her voice barely a whisper in the darkness.

"It’s strange, isn’t it?" he continues. "Not seeing you every day."

Elena exhales.

"Yeah."

Another silence. This time, neither of them fills it.

Until Oscar breaks it with an idea that shouldn’t sound as crazy as it does.

"What if we meet up?"

Elena blinks, suddenly wide awake.

"What?"

"Let’s run away. Just for a few days. Just us."

She stays still, her heart pounding faster.

"That’s insane."

"A little insanity wouldn’t hurt us," he reasons. His voice is calm, but there’s something in his tone that makes her picture him with that lopsided grin, eyes squinting slightly under the Melbourne afternoon sun. "Tell me you don’t want to."

Elena bites her lip. She can’t.

She doesn’t want to.

"I can give you five days. That’s all the time Carlos will let me go without hiring a private investigator," she finally says.

Oscar smiles on the other end of the line.

"Five days."

And the next morning, Elena drops the bomb at the breakfast table. If she wants to get away with it, she has to act naturally—with the confidence of someone who has nothing to hide.

So, as she sets her plate in the sink after breakfast, she announces casually, "I’m leaving for a few days."

She knows she has everyone’s attention in less than a second.

Carlos, sitting across the table, frowns with his mouth full of toast. Their mother, standing by the coffee machine, turns with interest.

"Where to?" Carlos asks, still chewing.

Elena leans against the counter, phone in hand.

"A friend’s house on the coast."

Carlos gives her a skeptical look.

"What friend?"

"Clara."

She’s the first name that comes to mind. Their mother nods, as if that makes it all perfectly logical, but Carlos keeps staring at her with the same doubtful expression.

"Since when are you and Clara such good friends?"

Elena rolls her eyes.

"Carlos, we went to school together for ten years."

"And you haven’t seen her in four."

"Exactly. We caught up recently, and she invited me to stay for a few days."

Carlos doesn’t look convinced.

"And you’re just leaving, out of nowhere."

"Why not? It’s the summer break, I don’t have to stay here the whole time."

Carlos crosses his arms.

"Hmm."

Their mother, on the other hand, just smiles.

"Well, darling, if you want to go, go."

Carlos looks at her like he can’t believe she’s accepting the explanation so easily.

"Doesn’t that sound suspicious to you?"

"Carlos, please," their mother says, shaking her head in amusement. "It’s summer. Can’t your sister go to the beach for a few days without you interrogating her like she’s planning a heist?"

Elena smirks at Carlos before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Exactly. Thanks, Mom."

Carlos huffs but seems to give in.

"When are you leaving?"

"Early tomorrow morning."

"Uh-huh."

Carlos keeps watching her, narrowing his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines. Elena ignores him, picking up her cup and heading for the door.

Her phone vibrates in her hand.

A message from Oscar.

"Mission accomplished?"

Elena smiles before replying.

"Obviously. Who do you think I am?"

Elena doesn’t know exactly when she realizes that this—whatever it is they’re doing—is a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe it’s when she opens her eyes that first morning in Croatia and finds Oscar already awake, his head resting in his palm, just watching her.

Or when, after spending the afternoon exploring the town, they step into a small market to buy groceries for dinner and end up arguing—far too seriously—about which kind of pasta is better.

Or maybe it’s when, without thinking too much about it, she tosses a towel at his face after her shower, and instead of complaining, he pulls it away slowly and grins like an idiot. Like this is normal. Like this isn’t something they’ll regret sooner or later.

But they don’t think about that. Or rather, they pretend not to.

The town is perfect. A hidden corner on the Croatian coast, with whitewashed stone houses, cobbled streets, and the sea glistening under the August sun. No one knows them here. No one watches them. Here, they can walk without looking over their shoulders, without worrying about cameras or curious eyes.

And so they do.

They walk along the shore, sandals in hand, letting the foam of the waves soak their ankles. They eat at a small restaurant where the owner treats them like locals. They spend the afternoon at a secluded cove, where Oscar splashes her unexpectedly, and Elena lunges at him without a second thought, sending them both crashing into the water, laughing.

They don’t talk much about what this means.

They don’t say out loud that they’re playing with fire.

They just exist.

For the first time since this all began, they are together without the pressure of the paddock, without the weight of the forbidden. They wake up tangled in white sheets, have slow breakfasts on the terrace, Oscar cooks while Elena sits on the counter, stealing bites of whatever he’s making.

It’s ridiculously domestic.

Ridiculously easy.

And that’s why, somewhere in the back of her mind, Elena knows it can’t last.

It’s their last evening together, and the sun is starting to set over the sea, painting the sky in shades of gold and orange. The heat of the day still lingers on the wooden terrace of the small house they’ve rented, where the sound of waves crashing against the rocks blends with the distant murmur of locals enjoying the evening.

Oscar absentmindedly turns the beer bottle in his hands, his gaze lost in the foam sliding down the glass. Across from him, Elena leans back in her chair, tracing the rim of her wine glass with a fingertip.

The silence between them is comfortable.

But Oscar knows he can’t leave it like this.

“I don’t want this to end when summer does.”

Elena lifts her gaze slowly, as if her thoughts were somewhere else. She blinks a couple of times before speaking.

“What do you mean?”

Oscar lets out a humorless chuckle, dropping his eyes to the table.

“I mean, I don’t want to go back to pretending this isn’t happening.”

Elena doesn’t answer right away. She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, studying him with those eyes that always seem to know more than they say.

“I don’t know if we have a choice.”

Oscar looks up, holding her gaze.

“There’s always a choice.”

Elena sighs, running a hand through her hair before pushing her glass aside.

“Oscar…”

He shakes his head before she can continue.

“Don’t tell me it won’t work. That it’s complicated. That we have to think about Carlos, the paddock, everything else. Because I know. I’ve thought about it a million times. But what scares me more than what happens if we keep going… is what happens if we stop.”

Elena stays quiet.

For a moment, Oscar fears she won’t respond—that she’ll get up from the table, deflect with a sharp remark like she’s done so many times before.

But then, she speaks.

“If I’m being honest… I’m scared of that too.”

Oscar blinks. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so easily.

“Yeah?”

Elena nods slowly.

“Since the season started, everything has been so intense. At first, it was just this ridiculous tension, this game. I loved getting under your skin.” She smiles a little, but there’s more nostalgia than teasing in it. “But then it became something else. Something I couldn’t control anymore.”

Oscar leans in slightly, never taking his eyes off her.

“When did you realize?”

Elena holds his gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she hesitates.

“I think… since the beginning.”

Something tightens in Oscar’s chest.

“Then why have we been avoiding it for so long?”

Elena lets out a quiet laugh, like the answer is too obvious.

“Because it was easier that way. If we ignored it, we didn’t have to face what it meant.”

Oscar watches her for a long moment. Then, with a tired smile, he says, 

“Falling for you was too easy.”

Elena drops her gaze for a second before looking up again, her expression knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Falling for you was too easy, too.”

The world seems to stop.

Oscar feels a tingling in his skin, like his body is trying to process what he just heard.

“Elena…”

But she keeps going.

"I didn’t want to accept it," she says quietly. "Because I was scared. Because if this ends, I don’t know how we go back to being the same. I don’t know how I’ll look at you without it hurting."

Oscar takes her hand across the table. Their fingers fit together like they were made for it.

"I don’t want this to end."

Elena tightens her grip, not letting go.

"Me neither."

They stay like that for a moment, in silence, with the sun setting behind them and the sound of the ocean filling the empty spaces.

Until Elena breaks the calm.

"So… what do we do now?"

Oscar exhales slowly.

"We can’t keep hiding forever."

Elena nods.

"Carlos won’t accept it."

"Not right away, no."

"I don’t want him to find out from someone else."

Oscar lets out a dry laugh.

"Well, it’s not like we’ve been very subtle."

Elena rolls her eyes.

"That’s your fault."

Oscar raises an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You’re the one who looks at me like—" She stops herself, and Oscar grins.

"Like what?"

She meets his gaze, unyielding.

"Like you physically can’t not look at me."

Oscar leans in slightly, closing the space between them. His voice is a murmur.

"Like you matter too much."

Elena narrows her eyes.

"Too much?"

He shakes his head, a smile on his face.

"Meh, not enough."

And then, without thinking, without hesitating for a second longer, he kisses her.

The morning sun bathes the town in that golden warmth that only exists on vacation. The breeze smells of salt and freshly baked bread, and the cobblestones beneath their feet radiate the accumulated heat of previous days. Oscar and Elena walk aimlessly, slipping between market stalls, weaving through café terraces, blending into the crowd of people who live here without knowing that, for them, this is their last day of reprieve.

Tomorrow, everything goes back to normal. Tomorrow, they return to their lives. Tomorrow, the distance.

But today, today is still theirs.

Elena stops in front of a small flower stall, leaning over the tin buckets filled with sunflowers and lavender. The vendor, an elderly man with a white mustache, smiles when he sees her interest.

“For you, take one as a gift.” He plucks a sprig of lavender and offers it to her.

Elena smiles and accepts it with a small nod. Oscar watches her, saying nothing, caught in that quiet awe that sometimes overtakes him when he looks at her for too long.

He still doesn’t understand how he got here—how he ended up in a small Croatian coastal town, watching Elena pick flowers under the sun, holding her hand like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

She turns to him and tucks the lavender behind his ear with a teasing smile.

“There. Now you smell nice.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but doesn’t take it off.

They keep walking, unrushed, savoring the morning. They pass an ice cream shop, and Elena suddenly craves pistachio gelato. Oscar buys one for her, and as always, she offers him the first bite. It’s a simple, silly gesture, but it leaves a warmth in his chest.

They stroll to the town square, where a fountain with crystal-clear water sparkles, and children run around, laughing. They sit on the edge, sharing the ice cream, carrying the easy carelessness of people who believe the day will stretch on forever.

Oscar doesn’t know how long they’ve been there, only that, at some point, Elena rests her head on his shoulder, and he closes his eyes, letting himself drift.

And then, the peace shatters.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Oscar feels his entire body go rigid.

No.

No.

No way.

But yes.

Carlos Sainz stands at the other end of the square, frozen in place, his jaw slack, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Beside him, his girlfriend Rebecca has a hand over her mouth, but from the way her shoulders shake, it’s clear she’s holding back laughter.

Oscar doesn’t dare move.

He knows Carlos has already connected the dots.

The pistachio ice cream drips slowly between his fingers, melting.

Elena, still resting her head on his shoulder, exhales deeply before murmuring,

“Well… the odds of this happening were pretty low.”

Oscar swallows hard.

Carlos blinks several times, as if trying to reboot his brain. Then he looks at Oscar. Then at Elena. Then at their intertwined hands. Then back at Oscar.

Oscar sees the exact moment reality slams into him.

Carlos blinks. Takes a deep breath. And explodes.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

Elena, calm as ever, straightens her posture and stretches as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Carlos.”

“CARLOS?! JUST ‘CARLOS’?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!”

“Don’t shout.”

“I’M NOT SHOUTING!”

“Yes, you are.”

“I AM ABSOLUTELY SHOUTING!”

Oscar is too paralyzed to intervene. He feels like a deer caught in headlights.

Elena gets to her feet with an exasperated sigh, like she’s dealing with a tantrum-throwing child.

“What are you doing here, Carlos?”

“I SHOULD BE ASKING YOU THAT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AND WHY THE HELL ARE YOU WITH HIM?” Carlos gestures wildly toward Oscar, like he’s some inanimate object instead of a person with a name.

Oscar opens his mouth to say something—anything—but no words come out.

“I’m on vacation. Just like you,” Elena replies, completely unfazed.

Carlos looks about ready to combust.

“With him?”

“Yes.”

Oscar wants to disappear.

Carlos points an accusing finger at him.

“YOU!”

Oscar instinctively straightens.

“Me?”

“YES, YOU! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SISTER?!”

Oscar opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

“Uh…”

“‘UH’ WHAT?!”

Elena sighs.

“Carlos, seriously, can you drop the dramatics?”

“IT’S NOT DRAMATICS! IT’S A VERY SERIOUS QUESTION!”

Rebecca finally decides to step in, placing a gentle hand on Carlos’s arm.

“Babe, breathe.”

“I DON’T WANT TO BREATHE!”

“Well, you should.”

Carlos lets out an angry huff but at least shuts his mouth.

Elena crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you done?”

Carlos scowls.

“No.”

“Let me know when you are.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

@smoooothoperator @freyathehuntress @gold66loveblog @hadesnumber1daughter

if you want to get added to my permanent taglist, just let me know! likes, comments and reblogs are really appreciated. your support means the world to me and it keeps me motivated! thank you all <3

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: angel of satisfaction || part two: here

summary_the fallout of your love story with jeong-won and how he begged long enough to drastically change your life.

warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst but happy ending , reader smokes, is implied to be American and PLOT TWIST at the end, NO PROOFREADING

notes_ need to watch goblin and the silent sea :( using the salesman tag to avoid the flop allegations

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

The smell of cigars filled your home: you never thought you would deliberately find yourself smoking.

But there you were, looking at the cloudy skyline while you threw out the unhealthy smoke.

Your phone rang and you pulled it out of your pocket.

The ninth call of the day. Three times three is the charm.

“What the fuck do you want?” You neutrally ask, ignoring the beating of your heart.

“…y/n? Thank goodness you’re answering” You roll your eyes. “We need to talk, there’s a lot you-“

“Jeong-won, I don’t want to talk about anything with you” The exasperated tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him, which makes him feel even more stressed out. “In fact, I don’t want you to keep calling me. I don’t want you messaging me. I don’t want to have your follow on social media. I don’t want to hear your music in the clubs. I don’t want to ever fucking see your face again”

“Please, y/n. I don’t deserve to explain myself but-“

“I told you, you only had to pay for that dinner and forget about me. I suppose you didn’t mend things with your wife…” you abruptly cut him off, watching the smoke of the cigar fly out of your place.

“It’s complicated…” he sounds tired, sad and pathetic.

“Yeah… Everything’s that way with you. I just didn’t want to see it” you spit out, hanging up, leaving him to make a mess over the deadline.

You didn’t know how, but you would try everything just to forget him. But when you get out of the apartment the first thing you notice is the public trash can.

There lies the flower bouquet that appeared at your door three days ago. It had been Jeong-won’s first attempt to say sorry.

But so far it wasn’t working.

…

Three weeks into trying to move on. The first days felt like walking throwing a dark alleyway with no return. Tears always find a way to run out of your eyes, but you couldn’t deny, that you felt better.

Your friends helped a lot. Seoun-mi was the only one who said that if Jeong-won insisted, you could let him explain himself. Ruby and Jade immediately said no.

The spring was right around the corner. The rain was slowly coming to an end. The coats were being replaced with sweaters and cardigans. Even the sun cooperated, warming enough to make you go out to run.

Jeong-won crossed the street to walk towards his car. He had submitted a mini EP of music, expected to release mid-spring.

The city looked active, almost as if everyone had been trapped by the winter. He pulled out the keys to his car when he looked up.

His feet dragged him away, noticing a woman jogging down the street.

His face turned in awe after realizing it was you. Your matching grey tracksuit was hard to miss. He remembered you mentioned you were asthmatic, he wondered if you carried your inhalator.

“Y/N!” Jeong-won couldn’t care less if everyone stared at him as if he was insane. He started running hoping to get your attention.

His heart started beating so fast, the rush of seeing your face again, the hope of having you by his side again.

But that didn’t happen, you didn’t even listen. Music was playing so loud through your wireless headphones.

Jeong-won stopped running. He stared at your blurred vision and sighed in dismay.

His phone rang and he answered, still looking at you.

“Are you busy?” In-ji asked.

“No. I’m going home…” the man answered.

…

As the desperation started to burn you, the need to go out also grew stronger.

Ruby and Seoun-mi had seminars, and Jade had a meeting with her major advisor.

The outcome? You dancing all alone in a club.

You couldn’t go to the same one where you used to go. That’s where you met Jeong-won, it was too painful.

But as the alcohol sinks in, you start to feel tipsy, alerting you to stop drinking.

For a second you thought it was already too late but Han Jeong-won was actually there.

He gently pushed people to come to you.

There isn’t even time to feel angry, nervous, or panicked.

“What are you doing here?” You ask loudly.

“I came with a friend…” he admits, looking hopeful.

When you try to sneak away, Jeong-won grabs your wrist and pushes you against his chest. Only to then kiss you.

In his arms, you felt safe.

With his kisses, you felt cherished.

The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Couldn't miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.

"Please, believe me..." he pleaded, holding your hands.

"Fuck you, Jeong-won"

Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours again, but you slipped, leaving him.

Like you had already done before.

But it didn't make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.

And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.

You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.

…

Caffè Americano…

The smell fills your nostrils and the warmth of the cup soothes the cold of your hands. Too many thoughts have run through your head over the days. And it was very rushed to say you were over Jeong-won. Walking through the same streets you once walked while feeling in love was devastating, as dramatic as it sounded.

But it’s a good day. You can feel like you are reaching peacefulness and it’s enough.

It’s been a month and a half since you last saw him. The world is not fresh, but it’s still open.

You walk out of the coffee shop, your boots sound with every step you take and the cool air makes the very few cherry blossoms in the trees fall.

Your eyes scan the street; everyone is just there living.

When would you start feeling like yourself again?

Apparently not at that moment. After coming down the little steps of the coffee shop, you look up and meet two people talking, just inches away.

Why was life so cruel? Why do you have to meet your ex-boyfriend and his wife right then and there?

They feel someone staring, but they try to act so normal, like you hadn’t seen them. You start walking away. With firm steps and a well-hidden urge to run as well.

His hair looked the same, but his face looked less tired. She looked younger if that was even possible, with longer hair and more casual clothes.

Jeong-won and In-ji stare at each other awkwardly.

“Go after her” she softly tells him. Jeong-won stares back at her with unease before turning back his attention to you.

He knew you wanted to run away the moment you saw them.

“We already met once. What if we met again and she’s in the middle once again?” He can’t deny the anxiety growing as you stop waiting for the traffic lights to change.

“Jeong-won, perhaps we were really never meant to be together…” his face almost turns into a childish pout.

But maybe… In-ji was right.

She was kind, supportive and caring. She would’ve been a great wife. But their marriage started as a contract, Jeong-won never knew her completely.

He never felt the same way he did with you.

“We couldn’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other…” the woman admitted with a sad smile.

Then both turned to look at you.

“Go, explain her everything. And if we see each other again. It’s because we are meant to be friends. But that’s it…” Jeong-won almost felt his eyes turn glassy. But he nodded, gave Noh In-ju a brief kiss on the forehead, and literally started running towards you.

For a moment he thought about

You are still waiting for the green light when you hear him. You spot a cab and make him a sign to stop by you.

“Y/N !” When you look back, you see Jeong-won running, out of breath with his hand waving in an attempt to make you notice him.

You sigh, already feeling stressed out.

“This needs to stop. I can’t take it anymore!” You almost yell as soon as he ends up face-to-face with you. “I know it was just a coincidence and she’s your wife, but it’s not fair. I can’t do this anymore…”

You’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even notice your eyes tearing up until the cool air makes you aware of the tears.

“Please, don’t cry. If you just let me explain… you and I-“

Boom. You explode…

“YOU AND I, NOTHING!”

It spills out of your mouth. The words even hurt you since you know it’s not true. People around stare but you don’t care.

“This is why I can’t go out anymore. I’m so scared that I will have to see your face again… “ his heart breaks, he can’t stand your tired and hurt tone, your burning cheeks, and your red eyes.

He wants to make it better but doesn’t know how.

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he admits with his broken voice and you find the strength to chuckle. “I will remember that when I’m gone…”

“You’re leaving?” Jeong-won finds himself panicking, already desperate to make you stay.

“If the office approves my petition, yes. I’ll leave in three weeks” his face goes pale. “And even after everything… I can’t hate you, Jeong-won”

Your cab arrives just in time, and you disappear without saying anything else. You don’t even look at him again.

And as the cab drives away, you begin to think about anything else. In hopes of forgetting about everything, starting with his face.

…

2:00 am…

You can’t sleep. It was the following night after a hangover day. Your friends almost cried, pleading you stay at least the rest of the semester. You hadn’t thought about leaving the apartment and all of the good memories built there.

You look through the open curtains at the skyline. The same crystal diving you from the city that once was your lullaby as Jeong-won hugged you and combed his fingers through your hair.

You were so sober that you even questioned if he deserved to explain himself.

What if he was in a bad marriage and he couldn’t get divorced but started seeing you? No… Then why did they look very happy talking to each other the last time?

What if he actually never meant to cheat on his wife but tremendously fell in love with you? No… He still cheated and never told you about it.

But he said he loved you.

And he looked sincere while doing so…

*beep beep*

Your phone makes you touch the ground again.

After hours of being in the dark, the light of the screen blinds you for a second.

Five new messages…

Jeong-won ♡

You never removed the heart beside his name in the contract.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I can’t sleep again.

and not because I’ve taken

the pills again. I miss you like

you have no idea.

I know I hurt you despite not

wanting to. But as I said, it’s complicated.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

My first wife and I had issues.

She always wanted to

control me. We almost had a kid,

but we lost it and that shattered my

life once again. So she urged me

to sign a fake marriage, now I see

how twisted and stupid it is.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I was so uncomfortable when this

new woman appeared at my place.

It was already a bad place

and it added up to my neglect. It was

never my intention to cheat on In-ji.

I was only being friendly

that night we met in the club. But the

more I heard you, the more I realized

how lonely I was. It was luck or a fluke

that you were in that burger shop

days after.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I swear to you, y/n, that every

word, caress, and moment I shared

with you was real. Never in my life

I’ve been more sure about

feeling like this. I wanted to tell

you about the marriage, but I

didn’t know how. I thought that

no matter how much I tried to

explain, it would sound terrible.

I was so close to falling in love

with her. But thank goodness

I didn’t, because I would have

settled for so little compared

to you. The marriage contract is

over. That day you saw us together,

it was the first time I saw her

in months. She told me to go after you.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I don’t think it’s enough

explanation. But I hope it’s

enough for you to believe me

when I say I truly love you.

I’m so sure I want to waste as

many years as needed as long as

you forgive me. Please don’t leave,

I need you. Even when I don’t deserve

it.

✓ ✓

You don’t cry, you don’t panic, you don’t even blink. You just lock the phone and set it aside. Your eyes locked on the ceiling as you start drifting off, succumbing to sleep.

…

It could’ve been any other day. But it was raining when you decided to drop the final papers to withdraw from the study abroad program and return home. The apartment was a mess, half of it already packed up inside carton boxes and the other half resting as if nothing was happening.

The decision was not properly made, that was clear.

Your head was a disaster, a swimming mess.

Your life has been quite boring but comforting ever since you entered your teenage years. Never in your wildest dreams, you thought you would be stressing over a failed relationship where the man was married.

Three months after that embarrassing night at the restaurant, you are in a very different place and situation.

The rain has stopped, the sun peaks between grey clouds but the streets are still a wet mess.

You avoid the puddles of water that form across the sidewalk. Your cable earphones get tangled with the bunch of papers in your arms. It’s annoying until you slow down to take them off and hold the papers properly.

You bump into someone. The altercation being a little violent makes you almost fall to your knees, but the stranger holds your shoulders.

And the papers fall from your hands, drenching in the water.

“Fuck…” you whisper, hurrying to kneel, not caring that your knees get wet, you can only save the top papers. You see the hands of the stranger also trying to save them. That’s when you look up at the stranger.

Without a warning you end up smiling, Jeong-won smiles back at the instant. Both of you chuckle.

The half-drenched papers slip from your hands again, completely drowning in the puddle of water.

“Is it too late?” He asks.

“For what?”

“For begging you to stay with me…” your hands snake to grab his. He had a black turtleneck sweater and a jacket hanging over his shoulder. He looked painfully gorgeous.

You think about all those hours you spent re-reading his messages.

“I think you have begged enough” you reply.

Needless to say… you just know it was meant to happen.

Your arms lock around his neck and it’s you the one kissing him. Jeong-won mentally sighs, feeling relieved and renewed.

You can feel his arms embracing you tightly, as if scared you would slip away from him again.

Out of breath, he rests his forehead against yours, witnessing how the pain slowly washed away.

“It’s okay…” you almost whisper, he nods, briefly smiling. “Jeong-won, let's go home”

You knew he understood. Both of you knew home was wherever the two of you were together.

…

The heat was slowly building up. The windows started to remain open all day and night. Jeong-won was slightly stressed out, he had an upcoming trip and was in a mall, outside of a candle store.

His phone was almost burning when he realized the day was indeed hot.

“Jeong-won?” He turns only to encounter In-ji, smiling brightly at him.

“In-ji…”

His ex-wife appeared upon him, looking gorgeous. She looked happy, with her long hair now dyed chocolate brown.

“How are you?” He asked giving her a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in… a long time”

It had been a year, to be exact.

“What happened with y/n?” She asks straight to the point and Jeong-won chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

“It was bad… Remember?” In-ji nods, then he points at a woman squatting while looking at candles inside the store.

It was you, wearing a sundress that hunched over the floor. A purse hanging from your shoulder with many keychains. And when you stood up and turned to the side, In-ji noticed your left arm was also busy, holding a newborn baby.

“HAN JEONG-WON, YOU HAD A BABY?” the man starts laughing while nodding. “Oh my goddess! Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it myself” he admits after accepting the hug In-ji gave him.

It felt nice to see her. She was right, they functioned better as friends.

“It’s a girl, right? What’s her name?” His eyes brightened at the subject.

Jeong-won had a baby with you…

“She has two names. June Iseul” the name of the baby rolled over his tongue and he found himself smiling again.

June Iseul was born in the peak of the winter, weighing and measuring less than expected, with matted raven hair and grey irises that were slowly becoming like yours but shaped just like her father’s.

“That’s adorable!” In-hi admitted, feeling awe at the sight of the baby in your arms, wearing a rainbow onesie.

“And I guess you married her?” Jeong-won huffed.

You never denied how June Iseul had been an accident. She came to slow down your academic career, she also made you gain weight and lose some hair but her arrival amidst winter gave you half a year to recover. You felt amazing and June Iseul was growing healthy.

Jeong-won was happier than ever. He was just a little worried about the reason why they were in the mall. Your parents were slightly mad and very confused as to why you left home being single and a full-time student and you were going to visit them being a part-time student, with a boyfriend and a baby.

Jeong-won was nervous, excited, and eager to marry you.

“Well… happens that y/n doesn’t fully believe in traditional marriage. I’ve asked her on multiple occasions but she keeps saying that we shouldn’t push it yet” Jeong-won admits rolling his eyes, she chuckles, turning her head to see you invested in the newborn section. “She’s very smart”

“She is…” he agrees, joining the chuckles and smiling like an idiot at the sight of you with his daughter.

“Well I didn’t have a baby, but I got married” In-ji revealed, making Jeong-won almost gag.

“What? When?”

“Two weeks ago. I met him in Thailand and… I don’t know. I’m just… very happy” Both smiled, feeling in peace knowing everyone had moved on. “I’m happy for you, Jeong-won. I can tell you are living a dream”

“I’m also happy for you…” both smiled at each other.

…

An hour later, you are done shopping and the most important thing is in your hands; a stroller for June Iseul.

Jeong-won pushed the stroller as both of you walked towards a pasta restaurant.

“It sucks that you got me pregnant before my twenties ended. I should be in the club!” you object, exaggerating. You can hear Jeong-won huffing in disbelief.

“You literally go out to the club every week!”

He was right. Your life pretty much remained the same.

“And that’s one more reason I love you so much”

Even with the arrival of June Iseul, Jeong-won had no problems with staying with the baby while you attended classes or decided to hang out with your friends. He used to have a lot of free time, but now… he found the perfect routine.

“What are we ordering?” He asks, grabbing a menu as you both wait your turn to order and pay.

“You pick the pasta and I want a pizza with truffle oil. What do you say?” You negotiate with a smile.

He gets so lost in your beautiful face that he ends up smiling back like an idiot.

“What?” You ask again, chuckling at his silly face. “Nothing, I just love you so much”

You blush. And before you can say anything.

You hear some coos.

“I’ll order, you pick a table and feed Junjun” Jeong-won reassures you, knowing very well his daughter was demanding and using the silly nickname he had given her.

You take a seat at a secluded table and turn the stroller so you can uncover it.

June Iseul was awake.

“Hello, little blossom” she smiled and it melted your heart. “I know you’re hungry…”

She was very small and soft. She had that baby smell but as her mother, you thought your baby smelled perfectly compared to the others.

She locked her eyes with yours as you breastfed her, not caring about the attention because your back was facing the world, and the table was secluded enough to cover you.

June Iseul’s pale skin resembled her father’s, making her look a little like a porcelain doll. Like the one your friend Jade gifted her from Japan months ago.

The doll was very sophisticated and rested along with some baby books and toys.

“Your father isn’t very good at conversations with strangers, right?” You ask your baby as you pull her out of the stroller and into your chest. Your boyfriend seemed to awkwardly be exchanging words with the woman taking the order. It made you chuckle.

After a long night talking and him telling you every single detail of his life, everything changed.

Just when he got a little house in a modest neighborhood and asked you to move in, you accidentally got pregnant.

What seemed like a challenge turned out to be easier than expected. Jeong-won had been the perfect partner all along.

Ignoring the judgment from your peers in classes after you waddled around campus with a baby bump, everything was perfect.

Also ignoring all the insults you threw to Jeong-won while he held your hand in the delivery room, everything was perfect.

So seeing him come with the receipt of the order and taking June Iseul from your arms to burp her made you realize how lucky you were.

How fucked up things were until they weren’t.

You have a boyfriend begging you to marry him and a perfect baby that looks like him. Both are in wait to visit your homeland and parents for the first time.

The flash of your phone pulls Jeong-won out of his trance with June Iseul.

“Are you taking us a picture?” he asks.

“Yes, you both look so adorable” you admit looking at the screen. June Iseul perfectly locked eyes with his father and you captured it in a picture.

You would print it, use it as your lock screen, and send it to your friends.

Ruby immediately replies in the group chat, then Jade, and lastly Seoun-mi.

Rubz <3 ׂ╰┈➤

DILF + adorable baby spotted!!!!

Jadore ׂ╰┈➤

Is that the onesie I bought her?

June Iseul my baby 🩷🩷🩷

misu :) ׂ╰┈➤

Tell Jeong-won he’s not

holding her neck properly:)

misu:) ׂ╰┈➤

I love her <3

you ׂ╰┈➤

Everyone gets In-N-Out and

animal fries after we come

back to Korea (cold ofc)

you ׂ╰┈➤

For being such a good

trio of aunts 💋

You lock your phone with a smile on your face as you stand up.

“Where are you going?” Jeong-won asks.

“To wash my hands, silly” You lean forward to kiss him briefly and you can feel him smiling amidst the kiss.

It’s inappropriate but since the table is secluded, you feel playful enough to add tongue and have a little touch with his.

And then you remember your daughter is in the middle of you two and had just burped.

“She spilled some milk…” Jeong-won hurriedly says, breaking the kiss.

You chuckle and kiss your daughter’s matted hair.

“Then clean her, Jeong-won,” you say before leaving to finally wash your hands. As your steps grow further, you can hear your boyfriend talking in Korean with June Iseul.

“Your mother is a little spitfire. That’s why I want to marry her…”

There’s an embarrassing smile on your face when you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

___________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1 @muchwita @preppyfella @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[mrsfudd]

Behind your back-final part

warnings: fighting, cursing

not proofread lmao

It had been 3 weeks since your big fallout with Paige and KK. Paige had been icing you out which was expected. You guys have had fights before obviously, just not to this extent. You’re still her baby sister and you’ve been hoping she can swallow her pride and forgive you. With KK though it was different. She didn’t owe you anything and you knew it was going to take something big to win her over…hopefully.

“Girl, you skipped your morning class again?” Chloe asked.

Your roommate Chloe has been helping you process the whole thing. Your friends back home could only help so much, they could barely understand the full story. For that reason Chloe has really been your backbone.

“KK has a class in the hall right next to time, the last time I saw her I wanted to die I felt so bad.” You said laying on the couch.

“Y/N, you cant hide forever. You’re too grown to be acting like this. Grow up and do the right thing.” Chloe said with a tone that only comes out ever so often.

“I don’t know chlo, I know she doesn’t wanna hear from me and Im not gonna make the situation worse” You say.

“So, talk to someone who might.” Chloe said while tossing your phone on your stomach.

You haven’t talked to Paige in a few days, when you did talk it was only about your mom or siblings. Maybe a mention of how the basketball season was going but never anything after that. She was treating you like you were kids again and you stole something out of her room. It was childish but what else could you do.

You: Paige

sissy 💕: what

You: can we talk, ik ur mad but i said i’m sorry

sissy 💕: i said its fine

You: dont be like that, js ttm p pls

sissy 💕: alr bru ill come by in a few

This is the longest Paige had been mad at you and it was really causing a rift in your relationship. You love your other siblings but you and Paige have always been close. You were happy she was coming to talk but nervous on how it was going to go.

“Y/N, open the door” Paige said monotone.

“Hey P” You said opening it and walking back to the couch.

You sat down and she just walked around and stood against the wall.

“Paige im sorry” you said with a voice crack.

“I know” Paige said while texting.

“What the fuck is your deal Paige? Im sorry I know you feel betrayed but you have to realize I was doing it for you okay? To protect your feelings so if what makes me a bad person then whatever but im not gonna sit here and let you give me these dirty ass looks like im one of your opps or something” You scream.

“Y/N, you need to stop acting like the world revolves around you. You’re so fucking spoiled I cant stand it. You’ve been treated like a princess your whole life and you expect everyone to forgive you and be at your beck and call. Grow the fuck up and own up to your shit. I don’t care about your dumbass sorry Y/N. You hurt one of my best friends so im not in the mood to listen to one of your sob stories” Paige yelled right back.

“Finally some emotion Paige! You’ve had your back turned to me for weeks. You keep saying I need to grow up and im trying. You and your fucking ego Paige I cant. Im trying to do the right thing but nothing is fucking good enough for you. The fact that you can sit here and say I’m spoiled is crazy, your fucking spoiled Paige. I know I hurt KK and im trying to make it right but I cant with you two walking around campus catching a attitude every time you see me” You yell trying to hold back tears but one falls.

“Now you’re fucking crying? This is exactly what im talking about bro. Grow up Y/N.” Paige said throwing her hands up.

“Yes! Yes I am. I have nobody Paige. I don’t have friends anymore, I don’t have KK and the one person who I expected to always be by my side hates me. I tried Paige I really did, i’ve apologized more times than I can count. I don’t know what to do Paige, im sorry.” You say full on crying now.

“Y/N hey wait” Paige said finally lowering her tone.

“Just leave Paige, I don’t care anymore” You said wiping your face.

“Y/N stop, i’m sorry” Paige said walking closer to you.

Paige finally caved. She still had a soft spot for her little sister and knew this wasn’t worth fighting about for so long.

Paige came to give you a hug and you completely broke down. Paige rubbed your back letting you vent about all you’ve been feeling and how if you wish you could go back and change it all you would in a heartbeat.

After you had calmed down, you and your sister spent hours together laughing and giggling talking about your favorite childhood memories. It felt so good to finally make up with someone so important to you. You guys had ordered food and hung out till it was dark outside. Everything was calm until Paige asked a question that made your heart drop.

“So sis, what are you gonna do about KK?” Paige asked with a eyebrow raise.

“I have no clue” You said looking down picking at your nails.

“Well I think you should text her you know, break the ice maybe?” Paige said passing you your phone.

“I guess so P” You said hesitant.

You: hey kk u busy?

KK baby 😘: nah why

Before you could respond Paige showed you her groupchat with KK sending a screenshot of your text saying “i wonder what she has to say”. At first you felt a wave of nervousness run through your body but with closer examination you seen that she still as your contact saved as “my princess 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾” and you had a slight feeling that there was hope in rekindling your relationship.

You: ik u prob dont wanna talk but i cant stop thinking about you

Before you could say anything else Paige showed you KKs text asking what she should say to you.

“Dont worry, I got you” Paige chuckled.

KK baby 😘: u wanna meet up n talk?

You: yea can i come to ur place

KK baby 😘: doors open

“Oh my goshh” Paige said while shaking you by your shoulders.

“Stop you don’t even know whats gonna happen” You say getting up and putting your shoes on.

“Have funn, don’t make it worse Y/N” Paige said walking into the kitchen.

The walk over to KKs dorm was sickening. The thought of being in a room alone with her was enough to make you puke but you stayed strong.

You loved KK and was determined to make sure she knew that.

You gave a slight knock before walking into her dorm.

"KK?" You say softly, extremely nervous.

"Hey Y/N" KK said in basically a whisper.

Before you could say anything else KK cut you off.

"So what did you want?" KK said with a real attitude.

"I just wanted you to know that I was sorry and that I didnt mean to hurt you. I-" You said.

"Y/N, Y/N stop I know this already. You've sent me numerous paragraphs about how sorry you are" KK cut you off, walking closer to you.

"I know, im sorry um again but I jus-" You said before KK cut you off again.

"What do you have to say Y/N, im tired of the sorrys" KK said.

You took a big breath and swallowed before saying " KK, I cant function with knowing you and me aren't on good terms. You are everything to me and I should of made that known before. I know that doesn't make what I did any better but I was scared and I was being dumb and I-"

"Thats right you were dumb, but continue " KK said while cracking a little smile.

"All I wanted you to know is that I love you KK, like none of that fake bullshit like l genuinely love you and I miss you and I know this isn't fixing anything but I cant leave here without you knowing this. I completely understand if you hate me because what I did was really shitty but im sorry. I want you in my life and I never meant to make you feel anything different" You blurted out terrified for her reaction.

"Y/N, I could never hate you" KK said with a soft tone.

Before you could get anything else out KK said "I miss you too Y/N, if im being completely honest I get why you did what you did. Not saying I agree with it but I understand. Our relationship had started off on the wrong foot anyway"

"Soo, does this mean I get a redo?" You said smirking.

"Y/N don't push your luck" KK said.

Your heart dropped and you were about to start apologizing again until you seen KKs smile. She was the light in your life and you were hers.

KK walked closer to you and pulled you in by your waist. She pulled you in tight wrapping her strong arms around you.

KK had you stuck in her embrace for what it felt like hours. Her muscles relaxed as she felt you.

For weeks she'd been feeling like a part of her was missing, you were missing.

"I love you baby" KK whispered in your ear.

"I love you more" You whispered back.

8 days later

You, KK, Paige, and a few other girls from the team were all hanging out in Janas dorm. Some of the girls admitted they missed you and were pissed at Paige for leaving you out.

KK had took a picture of the you and her kissing and was planning on posting it.

"Mama what song should I use" KK asked while laying on you.

"Any baby im not sure" You said playing with her hair.

Paige had walked past you and playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh.

You went through so many ups and downs trying to navigate the 2 most important relationships in your life. The tears shed and arguments on arguments seem like nothing now. You were finally at peace. No more secrets or hiding. You had everything you needed, ready to enjoy life with the people you love the most.

@private-but-not-a-secret @teddygrahamslam @syraxsbigfanfr @destinybueckers44

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Confession

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: you can't get away from your fallout with Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You continue past the cars and down the vacant road. The edges are trimmed with gravel and faded grass. You refuse to look back as you hug your pie, the tine of butter safely nestled in your purse. You can’t believe this. Not just him, but yourself. 

You are so mad. You don’t yell. You don’t do this. Yet here you are marching off impulsively to who knows where. 

You hear tires and a whirring engine. You might be able to hitchhike, though you think that went out of style in the 70s. Also, is it preferable to Bucky? 

“Dreamy,” Bucky slows, an arm hooked through the open driver’s window, “stop. Please, get it. I’ll take you home.” 

“No,” you snap. 

“Come on. You know you won’t make it that far. We can talk--” 

“I told you, I’m done talking,” you try futilely to outpace the tires. “Go away.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighs. “It’s cold and it’s only going to get colder. And that dress isn’t going to do much for you--” 

“Stop telling me what to do!” You sneer. “Alright? Just leave me alone.” 

“This is stupid,” he says. 

“Then I’m stupid. I’m good with that,” you roll your eyes. 

“You know that’s not what I mean. It’s dangerous. You’re going to get lost--” 

“I wish you would,” you huff. 

“Alright,” he veers towards you and blocks you with the front of his car, stopping at an angle so you have no other choice but to hop into a ditch to get away. You just stand there, glaring as he gets out. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so upset about the date. I just... I should’ve tried, you’re right. And I was a butt.” 

He shakes his head and looks away, hands on his hips, “but I didn’t. And I couldn’t make myself do that.” 

“Oh, so you were deliberately horrible?” You accuse. 

“No, but yes,” he looks at you with a furrow in his forehead. He takes a deep breath and gulps. He pushes his shoulders up and tilts his head. “Dreamy, can we talk in the car? Please?” 

“Say whatever you need to say,” you growl. 

His cheeks dimple as he frowns, “why are you being so damn stubborn?” 

“Stupid, stubborn, why am I even your friend?” 

“I didn’t say--” 

“You did--” 

“But I didn’t mean--” 

“Well, it’s true.” You retort. 

“Dreamy, goddamnit, just listen,” he grits out, “alright? I’m tryna say something to you.” You flinch as he steps closer and puts his hands on your shoulders. You tense but don’t pull away. “I... I don’t know how to tell you. I wanted to before—Jesus, even now I can’t get it fucking out.” 

You’re taken aback by his frustration and his profanity. His eyes gleam intensely as he squeezes your shoulders tighter. He searches your face as his dark lashes flutter. 

“Dreamy...” he murmurs. 

You have no time to react. He’s leaning in and then you’re smothered by him. His beard tickles and scratches against you as his tongue flicks between your lips. You squeak and drop the pie. You push against his chest in shock and rip your mouth away. 

“Bucky!?” You exclaim. “Why--” 

“Dreamy,” he rasps, his face pale with shock and disappointment. “I’m in love with you--” 

“No! No, you’re not,” you shove on his chest as he tries to lean in again. “Because we’re friends. You love me like a friend--” 

“No, dreamy,” he grabs your wrists. “Not like that.” 

“No, Bucky, please, I just wanted a friend,” you pout. 

He winces, “but you got more. Isn’t that good?” 

Your heart races. You stare up at him. You never thought of him like that. Never even considered it. You’re poor, you’re insecure, you’re lost, you can’t do a relationship. You’re not looking for that. Not yet. 

“Bucky,” you give a pained grimace, “I’m flattered but I think we’re in very different places in our lives--” 

“No, don’t give me that cliche bullshit,” he hisses, keeping hold of your wrists. “Dreamy, tell me you ever felt this way with anyone else.” 

“You’re my friend,” you repeat. 

“No, no,” he snarls, “no. I see it. The way you smile at me, the way your eyes shine, when you grab onto my arm or my hand--” 

“Bucky...” you breathe. 

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t run away,” he jerks you by your wrists as you try to untangle them. “I waited over a century to find the perfect girl, Dreamy. It’s you--” 

“You’re hurting me,” you step into the pie as you struggle with him. “Please, let me go--” 

“No, I can’t,” he growls, “I won’t let you go, Dreamy.” 

He yanks you towards the car and you squeal, “stop! Please! What are you doing?” 

“What’s good for you,” he drags you around to the trunk, his hand still on one of your wrists as he releases the other to open the lid. “I can’t let you walk home and I’m not going to let you get away from me. I’m running outta time, doll.” 

“No, no,” you gnash your teeth as you kick with your legs. He swings you around easily and flips you over the edge of the trunk. He rolls you inside as you flail and he snaps the lid shut. 

The car dips at the back as he leans on the outside, “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Dreamy. You just don’t know what’s good for you. It’s why you need me around.”  

He taps on the outside then his steps crunch through the gravel. You whine and wail, hitting the trunk with your feet and hands. The front door opens and shuts and the engine hums back to life. You roll against the back as he reverses and twists the car around. 

“Buckyyyyy!” You screech. 

You don’t know if can hear you or not. You don’t think it matters. You can hardly think as disbelief muddles with your fear. How can he do this? You could never expect this. He’s Bucky, he’s a hero, he’s your friend. So why are you in the trunk of his car? 

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Finally got a chance to check on tumblr again after a few months at uni and immediately began to reread all the ghoul fics (I have not slept in 24 hours and do not plan to any time soon). You have AMAZING WRITING!! are we perchance going to see any more hc’s for Our Lord and Saviour Mayor Hancock? Hope you enjoy Fallout 3!

I'm always ready to give y'all more thoughts about John. I think it might be impossible to run out of ideas about him.

I hope your time at uni's been going well! I know how stressful it can be, so I'm more than happy to provide you with some escapism. Loving Fallout 3 so far, planning to get some more play time in tomorrow. Enjoy getting all caught up on the blog, lol!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

John Hancock (Fallout 4) NSFW Headcanons 4

John is really into the idea of exhibitionism; he's braggadocious, and he loves showing you off, but the older he gets, the more he realizes it's not exactly becoming of someone who's supposed to be a leader of the community. As much as he would like to drag you out onto that balcony he speaks from and make everyone listen to the way you whine and moan on his cock, it'd be sort of a bad look. The closest he'll get is dragging you into the bathroom or a utility closet, maybe fucking you somewhere pretty open when you're on the road (though that's often a pretty risky move in a different way).

Incredibly affectionate in the afterglow, no matter how aggressive or animalistic he was during the sex itself. Huge cuddler, especially if the two of you end up passing out in a big, sweaty heap (which he strongly prefers). If you can't cuddle for whatever reason, he's still pretty clingy.

Long hair on a partner isn't an absolute must, as John doesn't necessarily have a physical "type", but he does like it, especially the utility of it. Being able to wrap it around his hand and control your posture, drag you around by it when he feels like it. Bury his fingers in it as he fucks you from behind.

I've talked before about his history of taking advantage of the Massachusetts State House being one of the only places in the Boston area that has running hot water, and that move doesn't stop once you two are a couple. Likes to watch you bathe as much as he likes to bathe together, but one tends to use a lot more water...

John has an incredibly filthy mouth, but he's equally capable of being very sweet and sentimental during sex. Sometimes it's both at the same time, sincere compliments and heartfelt declarations of love mixed in with nasty praises and commands. He has a tough time filtering himself when he's feeling really good, whether that be because he's high or because you're riding him like a wild brahmin, so he talks pretty endlessly. Isn't usually all that into degradation or humiliation, but he can tiptoe into that territory at the right moment.

[cowboyellies]

- You’re Not Good Enough | e.w.

you keep on coming back,

i keep letting you in

pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader

warnings/themes: angst, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight smut, heavy making out (in public), fingering r! receiving, mentions of oral sex r! receiving

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: ellie ends things with you and quickly finds that the hold you have on her is much stronger than she thought. when she sees you a month later at a house party she tries to change things.

a/n: hello!!! i'm pretty proud of this so I hope you guys enjoy :) also this is based off of one of my favorite songs so I recommend listening to it while you read

PART TWO

“I think we should call it” she said as your eyes were glued to your phone, aimlessly scrolling while laying on her beat up couch. you switched off your phone directing your attention to her, confused by her question. you noticed then she was sitting with her head in her hands, gripping the roots of her short auburn hair.

“what?” you asked meekly, sitting up now. you already knew what she meant but you needed to make sure anyway.

“I just think we should probably stop whatever this is, it’s too much for right now,” she mumbled to the floor, still not making eye contact with you. you felt your heart drop suddenly and the familiar prickle hitting your eyes. you had felt so secure just moments ago, so comfortable, now you just felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. you were embarrassed over the fact that this was all a shock to you.

earlier in the night as you laid naked in her bed you realized you were probably falling in love with her. you thought in that moment as you breathed heavily next to each other that she was feeling the same way. now come to find out that she was probably already planning on ending it then. the sex that you thought was the start of something deeper was just her final goodbye to you, that’s why it felt so fucking good.

looking at her now with her body slumped over in tiredness you thought back to the way she phrased it. “we should call it” as if it was a group effort. as if she wasn’t the one dumping you. you had been dumped once before and they had used the same phrasing that she did. that first time you begged and pleaded with them to reconsider. you cried at their feet begging for one more chance, willing them to change their mind and stay. as you stared at ellie’s slouched over frame you remembered the painful embarrassment you felt begging for someone who didn’t want you back.

that bitter memory is what stopped the tears from falling out of your eyes. you let out a hardened sigh and stood up from the couch. “okay, if that’s what you want,”

ellie looked up suddenly, shocked by the casualty of your tone. she was bracing herself for the screaming, the last thing she ever expected from you was compliance. she had completed this cycle with girls before and the fallout was always a mix of yelling and lots of tears, a few had even thrown things. she could have sworn she heard your voice wavering just moments ago but now you seemed fine.

“what?” she questioned. genuinely not prepared for this level of calm.

“I said okay? if that’s what you want I can’t change that,” she was looking at you closely now. your face was hard but not necessarily mad. you looked like an entirely different person than the girl that was laughing on her bed just an hour before. the you standing in front of her now looked miles away.

once you realized she wasn’t saying anything else you began collecting your things you had left around her apartment. in your last breakup amongst the crying and dramatics you had left your favorite hoodie there and you didn’t want that to happen again. ellie followed you to the doorway of her bedroom where you were now grabbing your belongings, her eyes following you still in shock. you felt satisfaction from the way you were rattling her but most of you was just moving on autopilot, shutting your feelings off until you were away from her apartment and could finally burst.

once you had shoved everything of yours into a bag you made your way to the door. as your hand was on the knob you felt ellie’s on your shoulder, the feeling of her touch grounding you back into what was happening, causing your body to stiffen.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. you were feeling it all now, the weight of it was starting to crush you and you feared if you turned to face her you would start crying for real that time. so instead of replying you opened the door and left, letting out heavy sobs as you walked to your car.

ellie stood at the doorway for a while after you left, mulling over everything that had just happened. she knew this was her ideal scenario. she could never have dreamed of a smoother break. especially when she knew you were both starting to develop intense feelings for each other, which was the reason she ended things in the first place. she knew she should feel relief now but the look on your face was haunting her. she realized then that she had taken away your softness. instead of feeling the freedom she desired she now felt an insurmountable wave of guilt.

—

over a month after you and ellie’s breakup, if you could even call it that, you now find yourself sitting on a couch at a crowded house party flirting with a random girl. you had wallowed in the pain of ellie ending things for a solid two weeks and had recently decided you finally needed to get back to being a functioning member of society. after your last break up you didn’t go out for six months afterwards and you were determined to break that cycle.

so now here you were in your little black dress and denim jacket listening to this girl talk about a concert she had just gone too while you made prolonged and flirty eye contact with her. this was new territory since in all of your past relationships you tended to be the girl blabbering away about something instead of being the one pretending to listen. this time around you were going to make sure you wouldn’t be the one getting naively attached.

ellie stood sourly outside of the party dreading whatever would meet her behind those doors. dina had practically forced her to come out tonight and she had absolutely no desire to be there. she expected herself to resume her usual role in casual hookup culture but something had been stopping her.

she had decided to end things with you when one day she realized you were the first thing she thought of when she woke up in the morning. it was a random tuesday and when she checked the clock she remembered you said you had class at that time. that immediate correlation to you was such a foreign feeling that it terrified her. she wasn’t used to caring for anyone but herself and hadn’t been in a long time. she found herself missing the comfortableness of fucking someone and never calling them again. she assumed that's what she’d be doing after you left her apartment that night but found she couldn’t.

in the month that you’d been apart she had done the unthinkable for her. she found herself drafting texts to you and not sending them. she hovered over your number multiple times toying with the thought of calling you but never doing it. she even made it a habit of stalking your instagram. she saw one night you went to a club with your friends and she felt strangely nauseous. she hated it. she hated being the stalker when she was so used to being the one being stalked. it made her loathe you and miss you all the same.

she finally made her way into the house immediately heading towards the liquor table. she knew she needed to alter her brain chemistry quickly if she was ever gonna make it through the night. after downing a drink she turned her head to look for dina and suddenly heard a sound she was all too familiar with.

you were still sitting on the couch but now you were just centimeters away from the random girl. you let out a loud giggle over something she said but you weren’t sure if you actually thought it was funny or if you just wanted to get in her pants. the answer to that question didn’t really matter because you suddenly felt her hand resting on your leg and knew you had succeeded. she slowly leans towards the side of your face adjusting your hair to whisper in your ear “I’m gonna get us some more drinks”

you smile softly at her and nod your head as she rises towards the kitchen. your eyes trail her hungrily when suddenly she brushes past a figure that quickly catches your attention. ellie's standing there tightly gripping her red solo cup staring at you. her jaw is lightly clenched in the way it does when she's mad but trying not to show it. you feel your posture stiffen from it’s previously relaxed position and all the carefree charisma you had been trying to channel all night is instantly sucked out of you.

after a minute of intense eye contact she begins making her way to the couch. your fight or flight kicks in and suddenly you began pulling yourself off of it. you instantly don't care at all about the cute girl in the kitchen pouring you a drink, you want to get out of there now. ellie picks up on your movement and begins following you outside. after making your way through the house you realize you won't be able to get away from her without causing a scene so you eventually decide to just stop in a more reserved part of the backyard, landing the two of you under an oak tree.

“what do you want?” you immediately ask her as soon as she reaches you. the tone of your voice isn't mad, just tired, and it kills her. she would rather you be angry, she wants you to be angry. she just stands for a while trying to think of what to say

“I just… I just wanted to talk,” she finally settles on. she knows it sounds lame but it's the truth. you sigh in resignation, leaning your back against the trunk of the tree while she figures out what to say to you. she isn't used to chasing people and doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a desperate loser. before she ended things you seemed to always be at her beck and call, now you want nothing to do with her. she leans her hand on the wood next to your shoulder, staring down at you before she speaks again, your eyes shifting downward in response, trying to avoid any level of intimacy with her you can. “I guess I just miss you and I want to see how you’re doing,”

you let out a dry laugh which catches her off guard. you finally look up at her and see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion which starts to bring some of your anger to the surface. “I’m doing great ellie. actually I was doing amazing till you decided to interrupt my night with this stupid conversation,” your tone now annoyed as opposed to your indifference from earlier.

“yeah it sure looked like you were having fun in there,” she replies harshly as her jaw tightens like it did earlier when she was watching you.

“what the fuck are you you talking about?” you snap, now staring directly in her eyes. you see in your peripheral vision a couple from a few feet away begin to stare but you're getting too heated to care.

“I heard your fake little laugh from the kitchen. were you gonna fuck her and then fake an orgasm too?” she's inching closer to you now, her grip tightening on the tree.

“are you seriously jealous right now? you realize you’re the one who dumped me, right?” you feel like your head is gonna explode in frustration. you had spent weeks trying to get over her and now she has the audacity to be angry about it.

“which clearly didn’t matter to you at all. does that girl in there know how emotionally closed off you are?” she pushes, remembering how distant you looked standing in front of her in her living room that day.

“are you fucking kidding me? do you realize how insane it is to be upset at someone for not crying when you dump them? have you lost your fucking mind?” you're fully yelling now, not caring about the people around the yard sneaking glances at the two of you. “and if anyone is emotionally unavailable it’s you. I should never have started something with you in the first place,”

ellie knows she's in the wrong. she knows everything you're saying is valid and she has no right to be talking to you right now. she should be leaving you alone to get over her but instead she wants to get under your skin some more and eventually beneath your clothes. she’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to calm down. she’s still staring down at you now watching the way your chest rises and falls as with your breaths you try to calm yourself down.

“look I know I'm a piece of shit, alright?” you roll your eyes at her, adjusting yourself into a cross armed position.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement ellie. are we done here?” you begin to straighten yourself to walk away when she pushes her other hand on the tree, closing you in. you'd normally freak out and push past her but something about her movements are weirdly gentle and the tequila shots you had taken earlier are starting to lower your guard.

“I treated you like shit and I regret it. just let me make it up to you okay?” you're staring up at her through your eyelashes now in a slight pout. your face looks so gentle that she moves to brush a lock of hair out of your face. you hate yourself for it but you lean into her touch. you know her words mean nothing and could never mend everything that happened between you two. but it's late, you're lonely, and you highly doubt that girl would still be inside if you push ellie away.

before you can stop yourself you're grabbing ellie by the back of her neck and kissing her. it takes her no time to kiss back, quickly grabbing your waist and pushing the two of you up against the oak. as her hands explored your sides you feel all the self respect and awareness leave your body. you're no longer acknowledging how gravely stupid you're acting and instead are focusing on how good it feels when she kisses your neck.

as she inches her hands past your dress and up your thighs suddenly the reality sets it, you're very much still in public. you look over her shoulder and quickly realize the people who had seen you screaming at each other moments ago can most definitely still see you now. you quickly push her off of you, readjusting your clothes as she stares at you in confusion. when you're done fixing yourself you point to the rest of the back yard in explanation.

she groans a little and you almost want to laugh at how frustrated she looks, her expression the same as a petulant child when you take away their favorite toy. you gently pull at her shirt and whisper “let’s just go back to your place,”

–

ellie has never been more happy to be sober as she drives you two back to her apartment in your car, a possessive hand resting on your upper thigh as she steers. the reality of what you're doing was starting to set in during the 15 minute drive. you think about telling her just to drive you home multiple times but when you go to stare at her the sight of her makes the words hang vacant in your mouth. why does she have to be so attractive?

she finds herself also sneaking glances at you during the ride. she didn't realized till then how much she missed the simplicity of your presence in the passenger seat. when you two were together previously you didn’t exactly go out on dates or anything. a typical night for you two was driving to a fast food place, fighting over the aux, making out in her car, going back to her place, smoking a little, and then ending off the night fucking. as much as she hated to admit it in the month you were apart she found herself longing for that routine again.

when you reach her apartment building as she moves to exit the car you feel yourself lingering in your seat for longer, contemplating stopping this for the last time. you stare up at the gray brick of her complex and remember how alone you felt exiting her building that day, your tears dampening the clothes you had taken back from her. although this memory should be be a reminder of how she hurt you, instead it makes you get up from your seat. you don't want that to be the last memory you had of here.

you make your way through the empty common place and soon reach her elevator. as soon as the metal doors shut her lips are on yours. you feel the cool metal of the elevator’s handrails pressing into your back as she pushes her body towards you. her hands are in your hair lightly tugging at the back of your head as you grasp onto her neck, wrapping your legs around hers. you hear the ding of the doors and she quickly grabs your hand to lead you to her place.

as soon as you're in her apartment doors she's pushing you towards the couch, articles of clothing coming off of the both of you as you make your way to the plush cushions. you're staring up at her the top half of you naked as she’s removing her shirt when the irony sets in. she's about to fuck you on the couch she had just dumped you on

you move to inch the rest of your dress which is gathered at your hips down when you feel her tug it off of you in one fast movement. she watches as your chest rises and falls once again but this time in anticipation. she quickly grips the back of the couch above you as she begins spreading your legs apart with one hand. you gasp as she reaches your panties, rubbing slow circles into them as she plants heavy kisses onto your neck.

after a few seconds your gasps intensify and she begins pulling the fabric down your legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her. your eyes grip shut in pleasure and shyness as she brings her hand back up against you. you feel her stop suddenly as she uses the hand previously resting on the couch to bring your face towards her.

“look up at me,” she firmly whispers as she resumes rubbing into you, her calloused fingers brushing up against your clit as you writhe in pleasure, now staring into her green heavy eyes. you feel her fingers slide into you slowly, quickening pace as you moan beneath her. your eyes follow her as she lowers herself towards you, using her other hand to grip your hips which were now moving with her fingers. you feel your orgasm beginning to build as she starts using her thumb to rub circles against your clit.

as you reach your peak you finally allow yourself to close your eyes, riding the high against her long fingers you had been fantasizing about since you saw her gripping her cup earlier in the night. once you finish she slowly pulls out of you, admiring you as you pant against her couch cushions. once your euphoria wears off theres an awkward pause. I should probably go.

“I-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by one of her hands raking through your hair, which was now slightly damp with sweat.

“let’s go to my bed i wanna taste you,” she whispers and then pushes herself off the couch towards her bedroom. fuck it

you follow

–

you awake the next morning and the only word that comes to your mind is fuck. you're laying completely bare and under ellie’s sheets, her back turned against you in a peaceful slumber.

why the fuck did i do that? what is wrong with me?

as you contemplate just how little self respect you seem to have you feel her shift beside you, facing you with a light smile. you hate how good she always looks in the mornings.

“morning,” she mumbles against your shoulder sleepily. you need to get out of there now. after a few moments you begin to sit up, gripping the sheets around your chest as you try to recall where you had flung all your clothes the night before. she's more awake now and staring at you.

“what’s up? do you wanna get bagels from that place across the street?” she asks, still examining your facial expressions trying to read what they mean. you used to go the bagel place all the time when you would stay at her place.

“ellie no,” you reply, rising from her bed and making your way towards the living room in search of your clothes. she quickly follows, throwing on a large shirt she had laying on the floor of her bedroom as she watches you in amusement while you're picking up your garments one by one across her apartment.

“why not?” she muses, the casualty of her voice driving you insane.

“because. this isn’t a thing,” you say, quickly throwing on your clothes and gesturing between the two of you. “this won’t happen again,”

“why not? you seemed to enjoy it last night?”

“that’s besides the point okay,” you snap back in exasperation, now frustrated and trying to find one of your shoes. “you’re not good for me. no actually you’re not good enough for me,” “and why is that?” she asks, not offended in the slightest bit which makes you even more angry.

“you fucking know why. you never have been. this has never been more than sex to you and i'm tired of it,” you spit out as you finally grab the missing shoe. that last part makes ellie pause. deep down she knows it's not just sex for her, and in fucked up way she's glad that you haven't picked up on that yet.

“oh don’t act like you’re above that, were you ever gonna talk to that girl you were all over on the couch last night or does the line only draw at casual sex when it comes to me?” she snaps back at you, no longer amused by the back and forth between you.

she's right, you weren’t planning on ever seeing that girl again. but what she didn’t realize was the fact that you were acting that way because of her. how could you be expected to commit to something when your last fling disposed of you like you were nothing?

“I’m leaving now. please don’t text me,”

she rolls her eyes at you as you make your way towards her door. “yeah sure. I’ll see you soon,”

you slam the door in her face, knowing it's probably true.

PART TWO

[rosepinks-world]

FUCK IT I LOVE YOU, I REALLY DO (cherry waves pt2)

summary: wade helps you patch things up with Logan via a party.

taglist: @justaleksss @fallout-girl219 @fandomsunited @midnights-afternoons

It had been at least a week since you’d last seen Logan.

You hated to say it but you’d been a wreck. The whole point of casual sex was that you wouldn’t get your heart broken and yet here you were with your heart broken. The fact you felt this way made you realise that you felt the same way about Logan. I mean if you were that bothered about not seeing him that had to mean something.

One weekend you were in a blanket cocoon on the sofa binge watching some shit reality tv when you heard a knock on your door.

Logan.

He was all that came to mind as you fixed your hair and outfit slightly. You excitedly whipped the door open to reveal:

“Oh. Hi Wade.” You said your smile leaving your face.

“Well fuck you!” He said inviting himself in dropping some flowers onto your counter. “I was chased by an old lady for picking those from her front garden so you better put them in the best vase you own.”

You laughed but returned to being a bit miserable.

“What are you doing here Wade?”

“I’m throwing a little get together and you’re invited! How fun is that?”

Really he came all this way to invite you to a party?

“Wade you have my number why didn’t you just text me.”

“Okay you’re really missing the point.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Logan is doing my fucking head in.” He complained emphasising the ‘ing’. “He keeps moping around the apartment like he’s been told he can’t jerk off for the rest of his life and it’s got to stop.”

You rolled your eyes, “Wade he’s a prick I don’t want anything to do with him.”

He tilted his head pulling out a stool and sat at the counter.

“Okay you had argument apparently but I need more, tell daddy the drama.”

You cringed at the nickname. “Never say that again.”

“Noted. Now carry on!”

You huffed slightly annoyed and embarrassed about explaining what Logan had said to you.

“We were gonna have sex like usual. He ate me out…”

“Yum.” Wade said interrupting.

You gave him a look and he quickly apologised holding his hands to his mouth.

“When I … finished I hit my head on the bed it was funny so I started laughing and then straight after he… finished in his pants from just that. He got up to the balcony smoked a cigar told me we shouldn’t fuck anymore, went to leave with no explanation, then told me that we shouldn’t because he’s falling in love with me and it’s the last thing any of us needs.”

Wade for the first time in forever was speechless.

“So yeah forgive me for not really caring about his moping.”

Wade shook his head laughing, “Never would’ve guessed that Wolvie was the Boston cream his pants type of guy.”

You threw the flowers at him. “That’s not the point Wade!”

“Woah! What’s the point then?”

“He made me feel like I’m unloveable!”

You sighed and continued explaining your point.

“I would’ve accepted him worrying about catching feelings but he said it’s the last thing any of us needed. Am I that bad?”

Wade gave you a sympathetic look as he placed a hand on your shoulder. He thought for a moment thinking of the right thing to say when he gasped.

“Ohhh! I know what his problem is.”

You perked up, “What is it?”

He shook his head no. “I think it’s better if you work it out yourself.”

You threw your arms out aggressively. “What the fuck Wade?”

“Y/n. You’re an incredible, funny, kind hearted person with an amazing ass! Of course Logan fell for you. How could he not? He’s a really sexy but really complicated guy which is why, like I said you should be getting your answers from him.”

You didn’t say anything and Wade sighed.

“Look come to our apartment tonight. Wear something slutty and go get your man. Just warn me if you’re gonna fuck because I really, really, really want to listen.”

You smiled at Wades weird way of comforting you. “I’ll think about it.”

Wade nodded looking at his watch, “Well I’ve got to go and pick up Als coke. See ya y/n”

You decided to take Wades advice.

It was ten pm. Loud music thumped through the door as you stood outside Wade and Logan’s shared apartment. You had a ‘slutty’ dress on and you’d done your makeup to the way you liked it. You went to knock on the door when you stopped just infront of it. What the fuck were you doing?

You went to walk away when the door swung open as if Wade could sense you.

“Y/ns here!” He screamed to the large collection of people as they cheered. He pulled you through the room whispering about how he was proud of you and something about how your ass looked great.

As Wade got distracted your eyes landed on a familiar brown leather jacket. You smiled slightly, you couldn’t help it but it quickly faded when he moved to the side slightly to reveal a woman. She had opposite features to you and she stood in front of him giggling and touching his arms and face. She then leaned up to kiss him and you quickly turned away.

You were angry.

Furious to be exact. You weren’t official but he obviously didn’t fall for you that hard if he was kissing another girl. You snatched a drink from Colossus’ hand downing it as you went to find more.

You were pretty far gone. Not on the verge of blackout (yet at least) but the type of drunk that would explain what you were doing right now. You were on top of a table with a crowd around you as you threw your hips around to the song playing. The cheers from the crowd encouraging you to carry on dancing and to go even further.

You felt yourself reaching to the strap of your dress pulling it sultrily down your arm the top of your bra showing. The cheers only got louder distracting you from the random guy who leaned very close to the table. He placed his hands on the top of your legs grabbing your thighs. He reached his hands around and harshly smacked your ass. The flashing lights around you combined with the thumping bass and cheers were disorientating. You barely saw as the guy who’d grabbed you was harshly shoved away a voice bellowing out,

“Get the fuck out of here! What sort of people did you invite here Wade?”

You squinted to try and make out what was going on when your legs were swept off the table. You were hoisted over the man’s shoulder the front of your body draped over his back your ass extremely close to his face. You got worried for a second wondering who the hell was picking you up and whether the intentions were right until he spoke.

“What the fuck are you doing y/n?”

Logan.

The happiness of seeing him quickly wore off. God who does he think he is getting mad at you? You returned to being angry.

“Why do you care? I’m not yours to worry about anyway.”

He let out a sigh and kicked the door to what you now realised was his bedroom. You’d been there so many times that the fact you could barely walk in a straight line didn’t stop you from recognising it. He put you down on the bed gently as he went to remove your shoes.

If you had been sober you would’ve shrugged him off to show that you didn’t need him but all independence went out of your mind the minute he’d picked you up. If you had been sober you also wouldn’t make yourself seem so jealous but words left your lips quicker than you could think.

“Who was the girl you were with?” You asked as you kicked off your now undone shoe.

He looked genuinely confused. “What girl?”

You threw your head back on the bed annoyed.

“The girl that was rubbing up against you and kissed you.”

He smirked slightly, he couldn’t help but like the fact you were jealous.“Never seen her in my life. She came onto me, tried to kiss me I declined. She was pretty fucked up I think she got into Als coke so I called her a cab.”

Always a gentleman.

You rolled your eyes as he went to take off your other shoe. “Why are you so nice?” You huffed.

He smiled at the compliment. “Nice? I don’t think that’s me bub.”

You shook your head rather erratic due to the state you were in. “Nope! You are nice you just don’t let other people see it.” He smiled at your compliment.“Well you were nice until you made me feel like shit.”

He frowned guiltily as he helped you up to the pillows on the bed and placed the duvet over you. Logan stood back up and turned towards the door.

“You gonna leave me again?” You asked disappointed. God sober you would be so angry.

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be here with you when you’re like this. It’s not right.”

You laughed hiccuping as you did “You’ve literally been inside me multiple times and this is where you draw the line? We’re not fucking! Just lay with me.”

He looked skeptical until you tilted your head your eyes shining brightly as you grabbed his arm. “Please?”

How could he say no to you when you looked like that? He cleared his throat and sat next to you on the bed. “You want anything?”

“Yeah. I want you.” You replied not looking at him, eyes fluttering open and closed. You were exhausted.

He shook his head. “Bub, no you don’t.”

You tiredly laughed in disbelief. “What do you mean? I really want this to happen you’re the one that said falling in love with me is the last thing any of us need? Am I that unlovable?”

You wanted him? You were drunk but they do say drunk words are sober thoughts. He wanted to tell you how he felt but there was no damn way you’d remember any of it the next morning. “I’m not answering you when you’re drunk I want you to remember what I say.”

His answer lingered in the air with no reply. He thought you had given him the silent treatment but then he heard soft snores coming from you. He laughed a little.

“And that’s why.” He whispered pushing your hair out of your face.

He sat on the bed next to you the whole night. He didn’t even bother sleeping, too worried about what he was going to say to you when you woke up. The only time he left was to prepare you aspirin, water and some food he knew you liked.

You turned over eyes opening as you moaned clutching your head. Logan gestured to the items he gathered earlier and you fixed yourself up. As you downed the glass of water he spoke up.

“You remember what we were talking about last night?”

He didn’t even bother beating around the bush. You paused gathering your memories it didn’t take you long and you felt like your brain had caught you up to speed. You started to remember all the things you had said and did and groaned head in hands.

“…Yeah.”

He pulled his lips into a straight line.

“Right well, I’m really not good with things like this but I’m sorry for making you feel like shit.”

You kept a straight face wanting to see where this was going but you were grateful for the apology.

“Y/n… you were the one that wanted a casual relationship. For me it was great because I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone or getting hurt but I fell for you. How could I not?”

Your eyes widened. Logan was renowned for being unemotional so you couldn’t believe he was saying these things. You were also flattered you thought you had flaw after flaw but to Logan you were perfect.

“You didn’t want anyone to love you because you didn’t want to get hurt. I’m a terrible person. The worst version of Logan. And I got scared because I don’t want to hurt you. I also really don’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head ‘no’ at his self depreciation. He felt at ease knowing that you disagreed but he continued, “And I’m an asshole for making you feel unloveable because god y/n how could anyone not fall in love with you?”

Wow. For the first time ever Wade got something right. You smiled at him swinging your legs over his body so you were straddling him against the headboard. You leaned forward studying his face whilst the pads of your thumbs gently rubbed his rough skin.

“Logan you’re worried about hurting me but you’re the first person I’ve met that’s made me feel the safest. And I’m not going anywhere- unless you kill me or something.”

He laughed at your joke. Another reason he adored you. He leaned into the touch of your hands.“So, fuck it Lo, I love you too.”

He grabbed your face with urgency as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. God you two were so stupid. Why didn’t you just tell each-other this ages ago? You went to tell Logan what you were thinking when a bang on the wall pulled the two of you away from each other.

“Guys! That was so much better than listening to you fuck!” Wade yelled through the very thin walls of your apartment.

“Have you been listening this whole time prick?” Logan shouted back.

The two of you were met with a silence that strongly suggested that the answer was yes. You laughed leaning your head onto Logan’s shoulder.

“I’ll kill him.” He announced pointing to the wall. Logan was half joking but you could tell he was a little embarrassed. To open up to you clearly made him feel very vulnerable, it was understandable he didn’t want Wade to see that side of him. You tried to make him feel better by playing with the tufts of his hair. “Kill him later. Just stay here for a little longer.”

He nodded obeying you as he drew random patterns on your back. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world. You who looked beyond beautiful at six am in the morning, you who brought light to his life and you who loved him no matter his flaws.

He really did love you and you loved him. Feeling slightly giddy he reached for his cigars and lighter with you still buried into his shoulder.

“Baby..” you started pulling away from his shoulder.

He paused a cigar hanging from his lips. “Yeah?”

“Do I look like a clown?” You asked referring to your messy makeup that hadn’t been removed from last night.

“Yeah. Sexiest clown at the circus.” You cackled hitting his chest jokingly. He went back to his cigar when you started speaking again.

“Also.”

He quirked a brow up pausing in lighting his cigar bringing it away from his mouth. You leaned forward seductively inches away from his lips and paused.

“Don’t even think about smoking one of those fucking things in here.” You ordered smirking as you plucked the cigar from his lips placing it back on the table.

He rolled his eyes chucking the lighter next to the cigar saving it for later. He acted like he wasn’t but really he was happy. Now, he could put your hatred to cigars to a happier memory. He cupped your face. “That’s my girl.”

[dontsupressthejess]

Lions and Music (pt.2)

MV/LN x Reader

Just something floating in my head tonight. Yn is a singer/actress who's laptop with unreleased songs is stolen. The songs are about people in her life. Past. Present and foreseeable future?

See what happens when they begin to get leaked and her fans and haters get an even closer look at her life through her music.

Also of course it’s Formula1 related! :)

Warnings!!

This is for Mature readers! 18 over preferably!!

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WE are jumping right in here - i haven't written smut before so take it easy on me. You've been warned!!

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You could only let out a silent scream. Your body is tight with frustration.

Though the fallout from your song being leaked wasn't as bad as you thought it could be, the stress it caused had really taken a toll.

You have always been the life of the party type, people gravitated to you for your happy energy. Men would feel the pull, not just for your looks but for you.

You thought you had lost a part of yourself after your last situationship but you were starting to feel like you again.

You sighed.

You had taken Neal's advice/nudge and taken a vacation. Hopped on a flight and had been enjoying the time away. Luckily you got to speak with your boyfriend before the leak. You didn't know at the time what song they would out you for so you had to come clean about the theme of the music he inspired.

Not a person to enjoy media you imagined he would be upset and end things.

He was upset. Just not at you. He was pissed someone could violate your privacy, your home in such a way and be getting away with it.

The man was just to perfect.

Her breath caught in her throat.

You didn't know where you stood completely yet when it came to an official title. Long distance had been all you've know until recently. Living on two sides of the world.

You weren't seeing other people. You were his and he was yours. You just hadn't made it official.

You could see yourself with him, He treated you well, way better that your ex. His reaction to this was just one more thing she could find herself falling for.

People who knew of him - knew him to be some type of villain in their story. A short tempered, foul mouthed, cocky egomaniac. Always the one people liked to hate.

The people who knew him personally, his friends, and family to them.. well he could still be all of those things but he was also gentle when he wanted to be, caring, funny, quiet.

He was also an absolute animal when it came to preying upon your body. You loved his gentle side but the way he could throw you on a bed and fuck your brains out. Well you really liked that.

He had done just that when you admitted to the spicy songs written about him and yes their were several.

You had shown him few- but not all of them. The man fucked you over his couch before he finished listening. To show his appreciation for your music and to inspire more he had said.

Everyday since arriving to his home he had you, just like now…

You moaned.

Head between your thighs, hes eating you out like hes starving. His big, strong hands are on your thighs, his fingertips digging in to the point of it being painful, you can feel the bruising already but that line of pain and pleasure was just so sweet. You would beg him to hurt you just a little bit more if you could form a sentence.

"Baby your pussy is fucking delicious" he groans, His hot breath against your throbbing clit.

"I'm keeping you here with me forever" he says as he dives back in. Pulling you back to his face, his tongue piercing, his big nose rubbing against your clit.

"Mmmma-a-a --ughhhh" You manged to get out. Your hands in his hair yanking him closer.

"Please" You beg him in a hoarse whisper.

He chuckles.

"What do you need baby" His hand leaves your thigh, trailing it down to shove two thick fingers in your aching pussy. "Tell me what you need, and daddy will give it to you."

Your moans become louder.

"Please i need you, i need you so bad. " He's let your leg free, so you quickly try to wrap it around his back to yank him up to your face.

His fingers leave your soaked hole in a flash and you could just kick him, you were so close! Tears leak from the corners of your closed eyes as his hand moves back to push your legs open.

"I'm not done yet" he grunts.

He's slowed down. Now pressing feather light kisses to where you needs him most.

"But if you ask nicely, I'll give you want you need sweet girl" You could hear the smirk on his face.

This game you play with each other to make the other break is something you both love, but you just cant hold out anymore. He's been playing this game with you for a fucking hour.

An hour of his gorgeously lethal face in between your legs, never letting you get to that white hot release. You have to give in.

"Please daddy, i need your cock in my pussy. I need it" You moan, voice hoarse from the hour of screaming in pleasure.

Like a lion he pounces. Bringing your legs up, he bends them back till your knees are at the side of your head. His hands forcing them to stay there. His cock thrusts in and he's balls deep in seconds. Not sparing you a second to adjust.

You scream, relief and a burning pain hitting you, more tears fall from your half shut eyes as he pounds into your tight pussy. His full balls slapping you on the ass.

"Look at me while i fuck you" he growls. Going deeper and hitting your cervix. Your eyes snap open, meeting his.

He looks smug.

Sweat sticking to his flushed skin. Your juices covering his mouth and chin.

He looks fucking sinful.

The light from the sunset is pouring in from the windows behind him, covering the room in a red hue. how can someone look this good, and how is he hers?

You could take a picture of him in this moment. Burn it into your memory. The man fucks beautifully. You could watch him fuck you into a mess for hours.

You're a fucked out mess, but you cant help but smile at him as he continues his harsh thrusts. His eyes darken at you smiling for him.

"You take me so well. You fucking love it when i wreck this pussy. You've never had it this good" he grunts. His hand releases one of your legs and begins trailing it up to your breast.

"Don't move that fucking leg. Keep it there" he commands.

Pinching you nipple before his hand goes up to grip your throat. His fingers applying pressure to just the right spots to restrict your already labored breaths.

Mouth open, drool falling down your cheek you can only moan louder. He knows you love when he chokes you. His hand covers your throat entirely. Your hands come up to cover his. Tightening over his hand to grip you that much tighter.

"Fuckk…" he groans. " You're fucking perfect y/n. Cum on daddy's cock. Cum for me sweet girl."

You were already there but hearing him tell you just makes your release come that much quicker. Your pussy tightens on his cock, and that sweet white hot sensation shoots through you, you cum with a scream, drenching his thighs and bed. He fucks you threw it. The wet, squelching sounds are so dirty its turning you on even more.

His hand slides up to your face to hook his thumb in your cheek, pulling down on your jaw he leans forward, pressing his cock into you more. Still fucking in and in and in. Your wetness making it easier for him to shove every inch of himself inside you.

Pressing his face to yours, you breathe each other in, Your mouth still open he spits in it and watches as you swallow it with no complaint. He can feel you get even wetter.

"That's a good fucking girl, swallow what daddy gives you, you ready for my cum baby?" His thrusts begin to lose the rhythm he had set.

"I'm cumming in this sweet dirty mouth of yours" With a few more hard, deep thrusts he pulls out of you and moves up your body.

His beautiful cock releasing into your mouth. Hot and thick, you love his taste, greedily trying to get every drop.

"Fuck" he groans watching you drink him up like its all you've been wanting all day. (it was)

He moves from between your legs to lay beside you. Your now numb and tingly legs slide back down to the bed.

You're panting and trembling. Your body on fire with pleasure. Your pussy clenching form the loss of his cock, squeezing around nothing.

You manage to turn to him and watch as he grips his cock, cleaning your combined juices off. He turns to you, lifting that same hand and wiping along your chin where drops of his cum have landed. Gathering it he pushed his fingers in your mouth.

"Suck" he says.

You do. Moaning at the taste of your sex. You release his fingers after you've cleaned them off. He then pulls you to him, his arm going under your head as you nestle into him. His fingers run threw your sweat matted hair. Moving it from you face.

"I didn't go to hard did i Schatje?" he asks.

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Celebrity Gossip Mag

Leak Number 2 is here!! We'll be having a listen and coming back to discuss in detail."

Follow the link below! Happy listening.

LEAKED SONG INCOMING

PORNSTAR - Yn/Ln

I wanna watch you like a movie I wanna put you on the stage I wanna know what you did to me I wanna put you on the tape

Flashing red light (Baby, baby, baby) Baby, you're a star Fuck me all night (Show me, show me, show me) Show me who you are

Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar

I wanna hear you talking dirty I wanna see it on your face I wanna feel you put the work in I wanna watch you entertain

Flashing red light (Baby, baby, baby) Baby, you're a star Fuck me all night (Show me, show me, show me) Show me who you are

Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Pornstar) Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Star) Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are (Are) Pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (Star)

Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Show me who you ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-are (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Pornstar (Ah, ah, ah, ah) (Ah, ah, ah, ah) Baby, baby, baby

698,897 likes 695,976 comments

@landosWIFEY: Yeah i knew lando had rizz. @Y/nsNumber1: My queen! i know shes getting fkn railed. loving it for her. @user5974: Are we sure this is about Lando? neither song fits his vibes? lol @formul4babie: @user5974 im think the same thing!!! @user444: Wow. Bitch is horny AF. @papayapiastri: shes one lucky girl. Shes obviously getting it good. i'm jelly. but is it lando? @anon584: the amount of likes is crazy @Ferraifwend1655: moooom shes at it again! @user6970: so the mystery man fucks like a pornstar. @Fewnorrisell: Landddooooooo Norris you dawg! @user696969: So i isolated the vocals and i'm pretty sure this genius recorded her and this man fucking! Those moans in the background are legit!! Isolated vocals on my page!!

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Welp thats part 2. hope you enjoy :)

Also disclaimer: I don’t own the song! Nessa Barrett does!!