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chaostudee · 8 months ago

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afterglow, oscar piastri

summary : y/n and oscar are childhood bestfriends and y/n tries to be supportive as she can by coming to his races and cheering him on. oscar enjoys y/n's company but sometimes he wishes that he could have you all to himself. in truth you are both just to stubborn to admit that you like each other, a little more than just friends. faceclaim : julia hatch a/n : i'm so obsessed with this acc <3

y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, and 456,618 others.

user627 oml

username_11 the prettiest redhead

user9_782 oh girl we need the workout routine asap

sabrinacarpenter literally the most perfect ever 💋

y/nusername all you babes

username1415 to look like y/n 😫

f1fan the prettiest non-wag

user771 in my eyes she's a wag idc

y/nusername love supporting you bestie <3

》 girl u literally travel the whole world supporting him.....it's giving girlfriend

》 there is nooooo way they are just friends

》 my fav bestiessss

》 she's so supportive eeek i love her !!

》 our mclaren queen

oscarpiastri great weekend with a good haul of points !!

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,618,929 others.

y/nusername so so proud of you !!

oscarpiastri ❤️

user728 my fav driver forever

f1fan how can u hate on this cutie

username661 great drive oscar !!

user992 i will always be a mclaren girl idc

user290 oscar pastry

oscarpiastri y/n forced me to post these pictures.

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,729,562 others.

y/nusername okay but FORCED is such a strong word....i encouraged you

user728 omgg y/n is so gorge

f1fan okay but appreciation for oscar's photography skills because wowww

user910 love them sm acc

username_56 oh how i love summer break content

user72 oscar pls lemme steal your bsf

f1lover proof the boys and girls can just be friends

landonorris

》 IS THAT Y/N?!?!

》 LANDO WTHHH OMGGG

》 oscar is defo going to be mad

》 um what in the world

》 posting this on your public story is crazyyy

》 i don't want to hear anyone start saying that they are dating istggg

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

were you with lando today?? oscar

yeah y/n

oh i didn't know you guys were close oscar

we're just hanging out y/n

yeah right, i know lando oscar

omg stop oscar i can do what i want y/n

ik ik that y/n i'm just warning you oscar

okay well i rly don't care about what you think y/n

fine oscar

fine y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername now my life is sweet like cinnamon

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 1,772,929 others.

user728 oh !

username_89 she's really just that girl

f1fan not seeing oscar in the likes hurts

user627 imagine your teammate and bsf dating bleh

f1lover living for this drama idc

alexandrasaintmleux obssessed with the dress you look so gorge <3

y/nusername omgg tysmm it's from meskhi

user56 lando and oscar i fear i get it

username72 body is teaaa

f1_672 appreciation for the car 🫠

landonorris amazing weekend great to be back on the podium :)

liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen and 3,618,701 others.

maxverstappen great drive mate and a well deserved win

user that's my goat 🐐

username617 ugh his smile i cant

f1lover omgg best race of the season

user55 so ready for a drive to survive episode on this madness

user728 that podium is literally my dream blunt rotation

f1fan YES U GET IT user756 like carlos, lando and oscar omll i was dying username_55 it was all good until we got no landoscar interaction user617 stopp don't remind me 😭😭

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

hey.... y/n

oh wow you're talking to me again oscar

well i figured u needed space y/n

i never wanted space y/n i was just angry oscar

oh okay y/n

so did u want something or...?? oscar

well yk halloween is coming up y/n

oh you still want to do the costume oscar

well i mean we do it every year osc y/n

yeah true, well i guess we shouldn't break tradition oscar

oh yayyy great i'll send you the details :) y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

*written*

you stood adjusting your dress as excited chatter filled the room. the party was now in full swing and oscar had still not shown up. sure you had your doubts that he wouldn't but you had known oscar all your life, he wouldn't do that to you.

as if on cue the front door swings open and none other than the man himself steps inside before scanning the room. it's not long before his eyes latch onto yours and it feels as though your heart stops. you can't remember the last time you had seen him and the last time you weren't having an argument over something. oscar smiles and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you see him making his way over to you.

"hey" a familair voice beckons your attention.

you look up at him and smile when you notice that he wore the costume." nice costume" you say giggling as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

"oh yeah my best friend got it for me"

you nod smiling back at him. "so how have you been?"

you roll your eyes before drawing your attention back to him. "is this your subtle way of asking if me and lando are still together"

"i don't care about that" he blatantly lies, scrunching his nose.

"well if you must know we are taking a break right now he said he was too busy for a serious relationship".

oscar scoffs. "what an asshole".

"he's your bestfriend" you say confusingly as you believed that lando and oscar were close.

"yeah but so are you".

your heart warms when you hear that and you feel as though in that moment your friendship has been mended through unspoken words. yet you still wished that he would notice, notice how obviously and madly in love with him you are. you watched as he looked into the distance and there you sat admiring something from afar and out of reach.

y/nusername halloween ;)

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen and 11,772,929 others.

user HUH

user728 i'm so confused

f1fan u and me both girl

user61 if i was lando i would be so pissed BECAUSE WDYM THEY DID A COUPLES COSTUME TOGETHER

f1lover the real ogs know that they do a couples costume every year

user919 ya'll are hating but I LOVE

justaninchident oh how i missed them

user671 lando be tweaking rn

username717 the fits are on point

f1_55 blink twice oscar if u need help

mclaren lando and oscar youtube video up now !

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, user782 and 554,818 others.

user728 OMG THEY MADE UP

username LANDOSCAR YES YES

anon defo just pr

f1fan not lando calling oscar out for getting flustered over y/n 💀

justaninchident okay but the way oscar and lando are looking at eachother omg i acc can't

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between lando and y/n

you like him don't you lando

what makes u think that ?? y/n

are u fr y/n lando

the fact that you never stop talking about him and that everytime we are in the garage you can't keep your eyes off him lando

what do you even want me to say?! y/n

i want you to admit it lando

okay fine i like oscar y/n

for how long lando

lando pls y/n

y/n just tell me lando

i mean i've always loved him i just i don't know if he feels the same y/n

oh god you are both so so stupid lando

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

how come u and lando don't hang out as much oscar

wow straight to the point y/n

well why oscar

because y/n

because why oscar

because he's not you y/n

wdym oscar

omg you are so clueless , i never liked lando silly he was just a distraction a way to trick my mind into liking someone else y/n

oh well who do u like oscar

do i actually have to say y/n

yes i want to hear you say it oscar

you y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername my boy 💞

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 14,717,896 others.

user828 EEEEEEEEEKKKKK

username728 YES FINALLY

user734 STOP THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

alexandrasaintmleux so so happy for you, you deserve this sm <3

landonorris happy for you's

user561 awww username717 and this is why i love lando

user727 the hard launch is launching

f1fan omgggg im cryinggg

username_62 they are so perfect for each other

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@sweetestgirlintown111

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@heavy-vettel

@janeh22

@love2readd

@depressedriches

@seonghwaexile

@nichmeddar

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #masterlist #f1 fluff #f1 2024 #fic rec #formula 1 #f1 blurb #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #mclaren

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covid-safer-hotties · 11 months ago

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To My Unmasked Friend in the Fifth Year of COVID - By: Anna Holmes - Published Aug 17, 2024

I’m going to be honest with you, because I love you, and you deserve nothing but honesty. I’m going to try really hard not to be angry while I do it, but it’s probably going to slip out every now and again. But I need you to hear me out, all right?

By now, we’ve talked about my reality. My personal struggle with long COVID, the isolation I live in, why I am so angry all the time.

But let’s talk about you. You just went to a big convention overseas. You got on a plane, got a little gussied up, talked shop with some insiders, geeked out over awards and merch, ate, drank, were merry, left with your social cup and your heart full.

You’re a good person. We wouldn’t be friends otherwise! You’d never dream of tripping a person with a red and white cane, using the r-word, excluding a disabled person from an event because of something they can’t help.

You might even acknowledge that the COVID response from governments and organizations has been ableist and inadequate.

But you didn’t wear a mask.

For whatever reason — you wanted to show off your makeup, it makes you itchy, you believed the messaging that COVID is endemic (what does that actually mean?), you just don’t think about it anymore — you made a choice that actively excludes people like me from participating not only in an event like a convention, but society at large. And yes, it is a choice. Every time you step out into the world without a mask on your face, you have made a decision that your very good reason, whatever it is, supersedes the right of disabled and at-risk people to exist safely in your orbit.

Well, hold on, you say. It’s not any one individual’s fault, it’s the inadequate public health messaging. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying?

And I have. In the past, I have talked about how it is unconscionable that health authorities have thrown their hands up and rescinded guidance that would have saved hundreds of thousands of lives and prolonged a pandemic that, to hear them tell it, has been bested. It hasn’t. Worst of all, the financial motivation that we all know is driving this premature victory lap isn’t even being fulfilled. Long COVID and other post-COVID complications are costing the global economy one trillion a year. Meanwhile, article after article handwrings about nobody wanting to work anymore, about the sagging college application scene, about declines in military enlistment, and the strain on our healthcare systems.

All of this is very much the fault of our leaders, who have decided the political ramifications of “normalcy” are more important than the health and lives of the 400 million people living with long COVID across the globe, the immunocompromised folks who are increasingly being shut out of every conceivable public space, and the disabled community which has been screaming into the wind about our marginalization since before the virus even hit US soil.

But I want to be very clear. You are helping them do this.

The reality is that we have been living in this deeply flawed landscape of “personal choice”, and you’ve made yours. You’ve opted not to look into how densely clustered cases are. You’ve stopped listening to your friends who have informed themselves. You’ve given yourself permission to put COVID on the back burner. You’ve earned it, right? Four and a half years of trauma?

COVID doesn’t care if you’re tired of being scared or careful or considerate. COVID is not something you can personally overcome by being smart or virtuous or brave. It is a virus which only seeks to infect and replicate, and it is getting very good at those things. While you’ve looked away, my community has been scrambling to avoid variants that skirt immunity and don’t show up on rapid tests until day five-seven. The constant battle has changed since you were last in it. It’s not sufficient anymore to get your shots and test before a big event. You could well be asymptomatic and infectious, or have symptoms and convinced yourself it can’t be COVID because that second line hasn’t popped up.

You have come to the conclusion sometime between 2022 and now that you just have to decide what level of risk you’re comfortable with and live with it. The problem with that is scale. It’s you and everybody else doing that, and a lot of people have decided they are comfortable with a high level of risk. Despite what you’ve been told, you’re not just making that decision for yourself. You are making it for every person you come in contact with.

Think back to the early tense days of 2020. We were told to select a “bubble.” Those people would be our social lifelines, and through those, we could control our exposure.

My bubble is quite small. It includes my husband, my sister, and two friends I see relatively frequently.

My husband goes to work via the bus, and to the grocery store. Every person he comes in contact with there has the potential to infect him, and then he has the potential to pass it along to me. He mitigates this by wearing a well-fitted respirator at all times.

My sister goes to work at a busy public place. She masks when public facing and takes it off in the back office. She goes to restaurants, bars, concerts, hangs out with friends and her own partner unmasked. About 75% of her interactions have the heightened potential to infect her, which she might then bring into my house when she visits me.

My friends do not mask anywhere except my house when asked. They attend concerts, shows, cons, bars.

Obviously, I am in control of whether I wear a mask around these people. And as we approach one million new cases a day, I will be around everyone but my husband. But science is clear: reciprocal masking is more effective at infection control than a single person masking — especially when that single person is trying to protect themselves, not others.

This is settled science. We’ve known this since 2020. It says clearly that the choice you make is not personal- it has implications for everyone you come in contact with.

And being clear — if I could, I’d make everyone wear a mask for their own health. I don’t want people suffering with what I have. But you’ve been told this lie that you can take your risks for yourself, so you feel comfortable going out without a mask. You’ve been told this lie that it’s possible to completely recover from a COVID infection, so you assume that even if you do catch it, that’s what’ll happen to you, despite evidence showing that every body is indelibly changed by an infection, and that risk only grows with each subsequent infection.

And the greatest lie of all — that only the sick or elderly have anything to fear from COVID — has given you unfounded confidence in your own “good” genes or immune system or fitness. You can get long COVID even if you’re in peak form — in fact, may even be more likely to be hit hard.

So you have decided, individually and collectively, that only the sick or elderly should have to take precautions, and you freewheel through life, only to get surprised and dismayed when you bump into COVID in the wild. It’s back, people declare every summer or winter, as though it ever left.

But I want you to really think about the implications of your choice. Besides yourself. Because let’s be honest here, that’s who you’ve been thinking about, right? Your risk. Your comfort. Never mind your bubble, never mind the bubble of everyone you come into contact with, never mind the people like me who are literally hiding from people like you.

You’re not masking at the doctor’s office. You’re not masking at the airport. You’re not masking at the giant superspreader you just attended, and you’re not masking in the bars and restaurants where we know the virus flourishes. And then you’re bringing that exposure back to your family and friends. Back to the grocery store, where you run across people like my husband, shopping for someone who is unsafe to leave the house, or your elderly neighbors, or an immunocompromised employee.

You’re a good person, or you like to think of yourself that way. That’s why when you’re asked to mask, you dismiss it out of hand — because that changed behavior implies that you’ve been doing something wrong.

And my friend, I’m telling this because I love you: you have been. You might have been doing that on faulty information, but be honest with yourself and with me — you’ve heard me begging people to take this seriously. You’ve seen the information I’ve been sharing. You have had the opportunity to seek out the correct information all along, and you have chosen not to.

It isn’t too late to change your view of the risk you’re imposing on the people around you. It’s not too late to push public health to become more effective. It’s not too late to act in solidarity and be the inclusive person you think you are. It’s not too late to take care of yourself.

Ultimately, that’s what I have been screaming myself hoarse about. I don’t want you to end up with what I have. I don’t want you to inadvertently impose that on someone else. And yes, I’ve been angry, because you’ve been advertising your absolute lack of concern with group shots of your naked faces on social media. It doesn’t seem to bother you that I am stuck at home like it’s 2020, except for doctors’ appointments that I literally have to risk my life to go to. You’ve told yourself that it’s not your problem, because only the sick and elderly have to take precautions.

You know better. You can do better. For your community, yourself, and me, do better.

Please. I love you.

Anna

PS. If you’re feeling upset and embarrassed right now, the best thing you can do is take action. Get yourself good masks (the surgicals and cloth ones don’t cut it anymore), donate to mask blocs so others can access good masks, write to your representatives and the President, comment on upcoming CDC guidance, schedule yourself a booster, and talk to your loved ones about doing better, too. The only way we get out of this is with community care. So care.

#covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #public health #wear a respirator

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sohkrates · 5 months ago

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The "Get Loud" TTRPG Bundle

About a month ago Charlie Hall, editor of tabletop games over at Polygon wrote an odd opinion piece. The gist of it was that since Wizards of the Coast is fumbling the bag with the release of the new edition of Dungeons & Dragons, now would be a great time for indie TTRPG makers to step up.

Above all, I feel it is imperative that indie designers realize that their window is rapidly closing. Rather than sitting in their own little corners of the internet and wringing their hands, creatives who want to thrive in the TTRPG space need to come together and fight for the recognition that they deserve. The dragon is knocked out for now, but it won’t be at rest forever. Only by building out a solid party, filled with individual contributors each possessing powerful skills, can they hope to one day face that dragon — or at least earn a place in the lair beside them.

This pissed off a lot of people. Including me. We aren't wringing our fucking hands out here, Chuck. We are loud about our games every hour of the goddamn day, and each time we encourage big media outlets like you to help, we see you wringing your hands about reader retention and clicks and all that horseshit.

We are not the cowards in this arrangement.

So as is my habit these days, I did some organizing about it.

I went through my list of games I've bought off itch and found my favourites, and my favourite designers. I contacted the ones I could (some of them didn't respond, said no, or I couldn't find ways to contact them) and put them together in a bundle. My friend Em did some art. I launched it on the 1st of February.

So far it has raised over $6,000. That's about $300 for each designer, depending on how they divvy up their cuts to itch, taxes, etc. That's money in the hands of indie TTRPG makers who aren't Wizards of the Coast. That's people being able to pay their bills and keep making games.

And not to mention it's 36 of my favourite games and 20 of my favourite game makers all in one place for the low low price of $20.

Being an indie creator is hard and thankless. We make things because we cannot help but be artists, and we are met largely with silence. We are expected to compete with companies who pay salaries to public relations people, who have marketing budgets and teams of artists, when all we have is a social media account, a mailing list, and the occasional crowdfunding campaign.

We are not saved by these companies, but by other small indie groups. By sites like Rascal who make game announcements easy, and the people who make YouTube channels and podcasts who play and read our games and let their fans know we exist. We are saved by people, not companies.

So if you buy the bundle, if you post about it on social media, or your work’s Slack channel, or write the link on the wall of the bathroom in that cool queer dive bar you like, thank you.

We can’t keep doing this without you.

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #rpg #tabletop #art #ttrpgs #dungeons and dragons #indie rpg #indie games #indie #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpg #role playing games

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dragoneyelashart · 1 month ago

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passenger princess ★⋆˙

smut ୨ৎ warnings: g!p billie, g!p sabrina, semi-public sex, oral (sabrina and billie recieving), fingering, dp, very small plot.. a/n: so....!! not proofread at all... wc: 5.3k

the sunlight streamed softly through the curtains, waking you gently as billie’s hand brushed lightly over your shoulder. sabrina was already awake, watching you with a slow, satisfied smile curling on her lips.

“morning, princess,” billie murmured, voice low and velvety.

you blinked up at them, still half tangled in the warmth of the bed and the quiet of the morning. the promise of their attention sent a shiver of excitement through you, billie and sabrina had that way of making every moment feel like it was just for you.

“we’re taking you shopping,” sabrina added, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare arm. “gonna spoil you rotten. you deserve it.”

your heart skipped. shopping with them wasn’t just errands; it was a ritual, a way they showed their care, control, and affection all at once. you trusted them completely. and you couldn’t wait.

billie’s hand slipped beneath the hem of your loose shirt, fingers brushing along your skin with a possessive tenderness. “dress up nice, baby. we want you looking perfect.”

you nodded, breath catching in your throat. sabrina stood and pulled open the closet, rifling through the racks until she found a soft, flowy dress, a pale blush that would complement your skin. “try this on,” she said with a grin. “think it’ll look amazing on you.”

you slipped into the dress, feeling the fabric slide over your curves, soft and light like a promise. sabrina stepped closer, adjusting the neckline, her fingers lingering at your collarbone.

“you’re ours, baby,” she whispered, voice thick with something electric. “our little princess.”

billie came around the bed, handing you a pair of sunglasses, the dark lenses almost too cool for the warmth buzzing in your veins. “ready to be spoiled?”

you smiled, shy but sure. “yeah,”

billie drove with calm confidence, sunglasses shading her eyes, but you could feel her watching you in the rearview mirror. sabrina’s hand found yours, fingers weaving together, anchoring you in the moment. the soft hum of the engine and the distant city sounds filled the space, but all you felt was the magnetic pull between the three of you.

your first stop was a boutique that looked like it was made for daydreams, walls lined with delicate silk, lace, and satin in every imaginable shade. sabrina’s eyes sparkled as she guided you inside, her hand never leaving yours.

“you’re going to try everything on,” she declared with a wicked smile. “and we’re going to make sure you’re the prettiest girl in the world.”

you followed her through the racks, heart pounding as she picked out soft bralettes, sheer robes, panties edged with lace, and dresses that made your breath catch. each piece was more beautiful than the last, intimate and delicate, designed to make you feel cherished and exposed all at once.

billie’s voice cut through the haze, calm but commanding. “we want you dressed for us, princess. not for anyone else.”

you nodded, cheeks flushing as they handed you a small pile of silky lingerie to take into the fitting room. sabrina kissed your cheek softly, lingering a moment longer than necessary. “dressed in only the best for us, pretty.”

inside the fitting room, the fabric slipped over your skin like a caress, each piece igniting sparks of heat beneath your skin. sabrina watched you through the crack of the door, eyes dark and approving. billie leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, the image of quiet control.

when you stepped out, sabrina’s smile deepened, and billie’s gaze sharpened. they took turns guiding your poses, commenting on how perfect you looked, how every delicate thread seemed to highlight the way you belonged to them.

after the lingerie, the next stop was a boutique full of everyday clothes, but even here, billie and sabrina made the experience feel special. they picked out skirts that swished just right, tops that hugged your body without choking it, and shoes that clicked with promise as you walked.

at one point, sabrina tugged you close, her voice dropping to a whisper as she brushed her lips along your neck. “gonna spoil you always, sweet girl”

billie’s hand slid to your waist, holding you steady. “always. no matter what.”

by the time the bags piled high in the backseat, your fingers were tangled in theirs, hearts thudding in unison. you felt utterly spoiled, more than the clothes, it was the feeling of being wanted, treasured, owned.

the ride back was slower, the city blurring past the windows, and the three of you sank into a comfortable silence thick with anticipation.

the bags sat heavy on the backseat floor, full of silks, lace, and all the things they’d chosen just for you. you glanced down at your new dress, the soft fabric flowing over your skin, feeling the weight of their attention lingering in every thread.

billie started the car, the engine purring quietly beneath you, while sabrina’s hand found yours again, fingers tangling together with effortless ease. the sunlight spilled through the windows, warm and golden, as the city slipped away behind you.

sabrina’s voice was low, a teasing whisper meant only for you. “d’you like what we picked out?”

you nodded, breath catching slightly as her fingers traced idle patterns on your thigh.

billie glanced over at you in the rearview mirror, her expression unreadable behind her dark sunglasses. “gonna look like our perfect girl. just for us.”

the air between you thickened, heavy with all the things left unspoken, desires, promises, and the delicious tension of waiting.

billie’s hand slid from the steering wheel to rest on your knee, firm and possessive. the hum of the road beneath you was a steady pulse, matching the quickening beat in your chest.

you swallowed hard, eyes flicking between the two of them, already feeling the weight of what was to come. the day had been full of sweetness, soft touches, and whispered promises—but now, it was time for the recklessness sabrina had teased in the car all along.

your hand found sabrina’s, guiding it slowly between your thighs, the small, delicious thrill of their eyes on you making your breath hitch.

“brina,” you say, turning your head just enough to glance at her. “you’re gonna get billie in trouble.”

sabrina laughs, soft and shameless. “it’s fine,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers along your arm. “don’t worry, baby.”

and you don’t, not really. the sun’s hitting your skin just right, the road’s wide open, and everything feels like it’s going exactly how it should. so you let your hand find hers, slow and easy, and you guide it down, tucking it between your thighs.

she doesn’t say anything, just looks at you like she already knew where this was going. billie shifts in the driver’s seat but says nothing, the only sound the low hum of the engine and the heavy air between all three of you.

you spread your legs, ever so slightly, not trying to make anything obvious. you take sabrinas hand into your own toying with the rings on it before bringing it your mouth.

“baby? what are you doing?” sabrina asks. billie glances over slightly to take notice of what you were doing. you suck on sabrina’s finger, bringing as far down your throat as possible. you push your panties aside from beneath your skirt and guide sabrina’s fingers.

“you’re so soaked princess, and from what hm? didn’t even do anything to you,”

you whimper out, bucking your hips further. taking sabrinas fingers and placing them against your clit. sabrina stills her fingers, not moving them, yet placing light pressure on it. you whine out loud.

“quiet slut, billie’s trying to drive,” sabrina says leaving a light slap against your pussy. you don’t listen, however, continuing to whine out, begging for their attention to be on you.

sabrina gets fed up quickly, covering your mouth with her free hand before quickly pushing her fingers into your tight pussy.

your eyes roll back quickly, your legs instinctively closing. “tsk, c’mon, first you want to be a slut, and when daddy finally gives you what you want you can’t take it? just being greedy babygirl?” billie says, her eyes still dead on the road, though her hand moves to your thigh, prying them open again.

“hmm, listen to her billie, just wants someone to stuff her full no matter what,” sabrina says, kissing your neck, leaving marks. sabrina’s fingers begin to fuck into you at a brutal pace. you mouth gapes wide open, hands rushing down to sabrina’s as a plea for her to slow down. “oh? need me to stop, princess?” sabrina says, slowing her fingers. you’re quick to shake your head no, begging for her to continue fucking you.

by now, you were drenched, thighs trembling as sabrina’s fingers moved with unrelenting purpose, coaxing out every gasp, every helpless sound you tried to bite back. her other hand stayed firm over your mouth, palm warm, fingers laced with quiet control. you felt everything: her pace, her breath against your neck, the weight of billie’s presence in the driver’s seat, silent but suffocatingly aware.

billie’s hand was still on your thigh, steady and firm, keeping your legs apart like a silent command, drawing small patterns. you couldn’t even look at her, not without falling apart completely.

sabrina’s lips brushed against your jaw. “good girl,” she murmured, soft and low, like praise soaked in sin. “taking me so well now. you’ve gone all quiet now, hm?”

you moaned beneath her hand, the sound muffled, needy. your hips rolled in sync with her thrusts, each one hitting deeper, harder. she adjusted her angle, watching you unravel like she was studying the reaction, addicted to it.

billie finally spoke again, voice low and dry. “you hear that, brina?” she asked, her thumb stroking slow circles into your inner thigh. “our little princess’s trying so hard not to scream. poor thing. bet she thought she was in control.”

sabrina chuckled, her fingers curling just right, making you reach back to tangle your hands in her hair. “she always thinks that. until we remind her, too busy being drunk on us.”

you were lost now, mind foggy, body twitching. you weren’t sure who was touching you where anymore, just that everything burned, every nerve sparking alive. your pussy clamped against her fingers, your legs trembling slightly.

“she’s close,” billie said, a hint of a smile in her voice now. “feel how she’s shaking?”

sabrina nodded, her lips brushing your ear. “c’mon cum baby, soak my fingers f’me”

and you did.

you came with a cry that barely made it past sabrina’s palm, body arched and trembling, sabrina holding you through every wave, billie’s knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. the world blurred for a moment, sunlight, sweat, breath, and all you could do was fall into it.

when you finally came back down, sabrina gently pulled her hand away, kissing your temple. billie glanced over, smirking slightly.

bringing the hand that was next to your mouth, sabrina takes her fingers and collects some of your cum bringing it to billie’s mouth. “taste how sweet our baby is, billie” you watch as billie sucks on sabrina’s fingers. begging so desperately to taste too, your pussy ruts into sabrina’s palm that stilled inside you.

sabrina takes notice, taking the fingers out of billie’s mouth, and placing them in yours, kissing your forehead lightly. you see billie’s print in her pants becoming more prominent. as you begin to reach over, sabrina begins to fuck her fingers back into you, just at the same relentless pace.

“careful baby, daddy’s driving, don’t wanna distract her do we now,” you whine, but nod in agreement, letting sabrina fuck you. your head lolled back against the chest, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. sabrina didn’t let up, not for a second. her fingers moved with a punishing rhythm, deep and precise, coaxing out every last tremble from your overworked body. you were already raw, nerves frayed and fluttering like wires sparking beneath your skin.

“you’re still so tight,” she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. “still clenching around me like you haven’t already made a mess all over my hand. so greedy, sweet girl.”

your hips bucked instinctively, chasing the friction, even as every motion sent a ripple of sensation through you so sharp it made your eyes flutter shut. you tried to breathe through it, to calm down, but sabrina knew your body too well. knew how to keep you exactly on the edge where everything was too much and still not enough.

“brina — daddy,” you whimpered, voice cracking as you reached out for something, anything, to ground yourself.

“shh,” she cooed, her tone low and soothing even as her pace stayed relentless. “you can take it, baby. come on be our good girl, princess.”

billie didn’t say anything more, but you could feel her watching. you could feel the tension coiled tight in her, held back only by the road ahead of her. “you better behave for daddy princess, you know what’s waiting for you at home otherwise,” billie says, making you giggle. billie glances at you, eyebrow lifted a stern look on her face. “yeah? what’s so funny,”“no —nothing daddy, just that you’re— you’re so hard,” you try to squeak out, while sabrina’s fingers still continued to fuck you, curling in and hitting your sweet spot.

“watch yourself babygirl,” billie warns.

“you’re such a mess,” sabrina murmurs, dragging her fingers out just to push them back in deeper. “and all for us. look at you, baby. you wanted this, didn’t you? wanted to be ruined in the front seat, all wide open and shaking while the world drives right past. d’you hear how soaked you are?”

you nodded helplessly, your thighs twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how overwhelming it all was. every stroke felt too deep. every breath felt too thin. you were unraveling again, and sabrina wasn’t slowing down.

billie’s voice came, finally, low and even like a knife slipping through silk. “come on, wanna be our good girl so bad, don’t you babygirl?”

you sobbed a soft “yes,” the sound barely a breath, as sabrina’s palm pressed flat against you, her fingers curving just right, drawing out every last tremor left in your aching body.“then go on, show us how good it feels, cum for us baby,”

you came again, your juices spilling onto your thighs and seat below you, you knew billie would be upset.

“fucking slut,” billie muttered, her voice low and dangerous as she looked down at the mess you’d left across the seat. “so messy you ruined daddy’s car.”

you turned slowly, eyes wide, lips parted as a warm blush crept up your cheeks. “m’sorry, daddy…” you whispered, voice trembling. “didn’t mean to be so messy…”

billie didn’t respond at first, just stared at you over the rim of her sunglasses, jaw tight. the car had stopped now, parked somewhere quiet and out of the way, the air inside heavy with heat and unsaid things. you could feel the storm brewing in her silence.

sabrina slid a hand into your hair from beside you, gentle, almost soothing. “she didn’t mean to,” she echoed, but there was amusement in her voice, like she already knew what came next. “still needs to clean it up, though, don’t you baby?”

billie gave a single nod, then leaned back in her seat. “good girls take responsibility, don’t they?”

your heart pounded at the implication. you nodded softly. “yes, daddy…”

sabrina tugged you gently downward, guiding you between her thighs. her legs shifted just enough to welcome you in, her breath catching slightly when your face pressed close. that subtle tension, that quiet moment of stillness before everything changed—you felt it ripple through her body.

you glanced up, and she was watching you now with dark, hooded eyes.

“you gonna be good and make up for your mess?” billie asked from behind, her tone clipped but calm—like this was expected of you, routine even.

you didn’t answer with words. you only nodded, slow and obedient, hunger simmering just beneath the surface. slipping your arms behind your back, you lowered yourself toward the seat, every movement deliberate—offering, not just acting.

your tongue met the remnants of your own pleasure, warm against the cooled leather. you licked slowly, reverently, letting yourself feel the humiliation and heat wash through you like it belonged there. like you belonged there.

sabrina’s hand slid into your hair, firm and grounding, holding it back with care that felt anything but innocent. “there’s our messy little thing,” she murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “cleaning up so nicely.”

billie said nothing, just watched you, eyes hooded, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

you kept going, soft, slow strokes of your tongue, until every trace was gone, your mouth tingling, your pride stripped clean alongside the seat. and still, you stayed down, waiting for what came next.

as you licked carefully, savoring the taste of yourself and the moment, you felt sabrina shift beside you. the subtle but unmistakable change, the way her breath hitched, the quickening pulse at her throat. her hand tightened in your hair, steadying you but betraying a growing need.

you glanced up, catching the gleam in her eyes—dark, hungry, and impossible to ignore.

“such a good girl,” sabrina whispered, voice low and thick with something deeper.

“daddy, need your cock, please” you say resting your head against sabrina’s thigh. billie’s hand now remained on your jaw, forcing you to look up at the both of them.

“need our cocks princess? want us to stuff you full? hm?” billie taunts, and you just nod quickly, your mind too hazy to recollect anything being said to you. billie nods towards sabrina, gesturing for her to unbuckle her pants.

your breath caught in your chest, as you see sabrina’s dick spring free, hitting just below her belly button. “bought you the whole fucking store and you still can’t have enough hm? how about make daddy cum, and maybe we’ll think about fucking you like the little whore you are, baby” billie whispers as if it’s a fallen secret into the car.

you nodded eagerly, breath catching as sabrina guided you gently, but firmly, inviting you closer. billie grabbed your hair into her hands, giving you better access to sabrina’s cock. you kiss sabrina’s dick softly, jerking it a couple times with your hands before taking the whole thing into your mouth.

“good girl,” billie murmured, brushing a knuckle along your jaw. “look at you. right where you belong.”

your breath caught, everything inside you tightening with that ache only they knew how to pull from you. being on your knees didn’t feel like humiliation, it felt like clarity. you didn’t need to speak. you didn’t need to think.

you just needed to be theirs.

sabrina leaned forward now, resting one hand on the top of your head. “you’re gonna make it up to us properly, yeah?” she asked, voice lazy and low.

you nodded softly, lips parting, hands resting obediently on your thighs as you waited, waited for permission, for guidance, for them.

billie looked down at you one more time, her hand tilting your chin just enough to make you hold her gaze.

“so polite when you’re on your knees,” she said, smiling slightly. “let’s see how long that lasts.”

you shifted closer to sabrina, your breath catching as the heat radiating from her skin pressed gently against your face. your nose hitting her pelvis, as her dick bottomed out in your mouth. her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you with a firm but patient grip that left no doubt whose control this was.

your lips brushed against her, soft and tentative at first, tasting the warm, salty skin that promised everything you’d been craving. sabrina’s breath hitched, low and ragged, her eyes fluttering shut as you pressed closer, your tongue tracing slow, deliberate paths against the veins that made her shiver beneath your touch.

every movement was slow and reverent, your mouth exploring carefully, seeking to please, to show just how much you wanted to be good for her. you felt the tension in her body coil tighter with every gentle stroke, the quiet sounds she made vibrating through you like electricity.

billie watched from the driver’s seat, eyes sharp and approving, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile as she watched the two of you.

sabrina’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you a little closer as her breath caught again, breath hot against your cheek. “that’s it, baby,” she whispered. “just like that.”

you worked slowly at sabrina, lips and tongue moving with care—but the fire building inside you was impossible to contain. your body trembled with need, hips pressing forward against the hard edge of the car door.

a desperate whine escaped your throat as you ground your pelvis without thinking, seeking friction, craving more. your hands braced against sabrina’s thighs to steady yourself, but the ache was raw and demanding.

sabrina’s fingers tightened in your hair, but instead of pulling you back, she guided your movements with a sharp, low chuckle. “you’re such a greedy girl,” she murmured, voice thick with amusement and desire. “trying to get off while you’re supposed to be good and obedient.”

billie glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing in mock reproach but tinged with approval. “is that how you wanna play, princess? trying to fuck yourself, when daddy just let you cum twice?”

you swallowed hard, cheeks flushing bright, but your need didn’t ease. the tension between wanting to obey and wanting to lose control tangled inside you, raw and electric.

sabrina leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “you can misbehave all you want… but you’ll take what we give you, on our terms. understand?”the second you hesitated—breath caught, lips parted but silent—billie moved.

you barely had time to react before her hands were on you, firm and unrelenting. she pulled you up from the car like you weighed nothing, your breath catching in your throat as your body was lifted, your legs scrambling instinctively before settling against her.

“didn’t think i asked for silence,” she muttered, voice low in your ear, like a warning and a promise all in one.

sabrina was right behind, the car door shutting with a quiet click. you caught a glimpse of her over billie’s shoulder, her expression unreadable, calm—except for the flicker of hunger in her eyes. she didn’t say anything, just followed closely as billie carried you into the house.

the door slammed shut behind her, the click of the lock echoing too loud in the stillness. you were already breathless by the time billie reached the stairs, your fingers curling weakly into the fabric of her shirt, clinging to her more out of instinct than anything else.

each step upstairs felt heavy with anticipation. you could feel the tension in her grip, the strength she wasn’t even trying to hide. sabrina’s footsteps echoed behind, slow and steady, like she was savoring your helplessness.

then the bedroom door opened, billie didn’t pause. she tossed you onto the bed in one fluid movement. your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, breath knocked out of your lungs as the world tilted around you. the room was warm and dim, lit with the late afternoon light slipping through the curtains, casting golden shadows across the sheets.

you blinked up, dazed, flushed, and trembling—not from fear, but from the heat simmering through every inch of your body. billie stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at you with that calm, dangerous focus that made your skin feel too tight.

sabrina shut the door behind her and leaned against it, arms folded, gaze slow and indulgent as she looked you over. “still want to be a brat, baby?” she asked, voice smooth and dark. “or are you ready to beg properly now?”

your breath hitched — because you weren’t sure.

not sure if you wanted to rebel or submit. not sure if you needed to be punished or praised. not sure which of the two sets of eyes on you burned hotter, billie’s calm, assessing stare or sabrina’s slow, indulgent gaze that drank in every inch of you.

the bed creaked beneath you as you shifted, heart racing, throat dry. billie moved first, stepping forward with quiet command in her stride, the kind that made your body react before your mind caught up. she didn’t have to say a word. you were already rising onto your knees, wordlessly falling into place.

sabrina pushed off the door with lazy grace, a slight smirk on her lips as she walked behind you. you felt her presence before you heard her — the warmth of her body, the scent of her skin, the electricity in the air around her. your breath caught again, and this time it was from the weight of both of them closing in.

billie stood in front of you now, hands at her hips, looking down at you with something like amusement — something sharper just underneath. “you going to behave now?” she asked.

you nodded, but it wasn’t enough. it never was.

“use your words.”

“yes, daddy,” you whispered, voice barely holding together. “m’ gonna be your good girl”

“mm,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “we’ll see.”

behind you, sabrina's hands slid up the backs of your thighs, warm and possessive. she didn’t rush. that wasn’t her style. her fingertips grazed along the hem of your skirt before gathering the fabric and slowly pulling it up, exposing more of you to the cool air, to her touch, to the inevitable.

your body trembled with anticipation.

you looked up at billie, the calmest one in the room, the eye of the storm, and she just raised a brow. testing you. letting you decide how far you were willing to go, how much of yourself you were willing to give.

your hands reached for her, gentle and reverent, as sabrina’s grip tightened around your hips. it was like being suspended between two forces, one sharp, one smoldering, both intent on unraveling you.

sabrina leaned in close, her voice brushing against your ear like velvet and warning. “it’s such a shame you misbehaved princess, daddy and i had such a reward planned for you”

you whimper, desperate to have her hands on you again.

you rested your forehead against billie’s abdomen for a moment, catching your breath, grounding yourself in the steady rhythm of her breathing, in the quiet tension of the room. then, slowly, deliberately, you opened your mouth in obedience.

billie’s fingers tangled gently in your hair, not forcing, not guiding — just there. her control wasn’t in her grip; it was in the expectation.

and you gave into it.

at the same time, sabrina’s hands moved with more purpose, sliding over your curves like she owned them. you gasped as her grip shifted, stronger now, anchoring you between them, steadying your trembling body.

it was dizzying — giving so much of yourself, offering up every inch, every sound, every trembling breath. you didn’t know where one sensation ended and the next began. billie’s quiet, commanding presence in front of you. sabrina’s relentless, teasing force behind you. and you — strung between them, unraveling piece by piece.

billie stroked your cheek with her thumb, not quite soft, not quite rough. “such a pretty mess already,” she murmured. “and we’ve barely started.”

sabrina chuckled low behind you, her fingers digging into your skin. “she is a mess. look at her, desperate for anything we give her.”

you moaned softly, not even trying to hide it now. your body moved instinctively, shifting closer to both of them, clinging to the contact, chasing the feeling. billie let you, but only just — always in control, always deciding how much she’d allow.

sabrina’s breath was hot against your spine as she pressed kisses there, slow, messy ones that made you shiver. she murmured against your skin, “think our little girl, deserves to have us fuck her billie?”

you whined before billie could even answer, your head dropping forward, forehead resting on her again, as if your body couldn’t contain all the heat, the want, the tension burning through you.

billie’s hand in your hair tightened, just a little. “mm, i dunno, but she’ll take whatever we give her, isn’t that right baby?”

you nodded into her, barely able to breathe.

the pressure built slowly, in your chest, in your limbs, in the air around you. they didn’t rush, that was the worst part. or maybe it wasn’t

every moment stretched out, deliberate and slow, designed to keep you on edge, never quite sure where the next touch would come from or how much control you’d be allowed to keep. you were trembling already, and they hadn’t even fully started.

billie ran her cock along your cheek, featherlight. her presence was steady, almost cool, in contrast to the fire building in your core.

she smiled faintly, tilting your chin up. “say ahh, princess.”

her tone was mocking, but affectionate. the kind of soft that carried teeth just beneath it. you knew she was testing you.

your first instinct was to shake your head. the flush rising in your face wasn’t from heat alone, it was embarrassment, the sense of being seen so completely. you wanted to hide, to retreat from the way they both watched you like you were something to be played with. you wanted to run from the humiliation they wanted you to play into.

but you didn’t.

because you knew better.

you opened your mouth slowly, breath shaking, eyes locked on billie’s.

“ahh—” you managed, your voice barely there.

and just then, behind you, sabrina moved, pushing her dick into you.

the pressure of her hand on your lower back became firmer, guiding, grounding, and then something shifted, deep and startling, and your whole body arched forward with a soft, broken sound.

sabrina didn’t ease you in. she never did. she set a rhythm that demanded your body keep up. you braced yourself instinctively, knuckles turning white as you clutched at the sheets.

billie didn’t move. she just watched. calm. measured. in control. the contrast between her stillness and sabrina’s intensity behind you made your head spin.

“there you go,” billie murmured. “just like that.”

you whimpered, caught between them, your body a live wire. every nerve was alive. every movement pulled you deeper into the tension that threaded through the room like heat.

sabrina leaned in closer, her breath hitting your shoulder. “you look so sweet like this,” she said, her voice low and ragged. “trying so hard to be good, for daddy and i.”

billie’s thumb brushed your bottom lip again, slow and deliberate. “you want to keep being good for us, don’t you?”

you nodded, unable to find your voice. your body was already answering for you, with every tremble, every sound, every desperate attempt to keep yourself grounded as sabrina’s pace never faltered.

“you’re doing so well,” billie said, almost too soft. “c’mon take daddy’s dick too”

your mouth was open, tongue out, eyes wide—desperate and obedient. you didn’t have to see billie’s expression to know the effect it had. her breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, and her hand tightened ever so slightly in your hair, guiding your movements with steady control.

you swore you saw the flicker of her eyes rolling back, just for a second. that tiny slip of composure only made your pulse quicken. she tapped herself against your tongue, slow and deliberate, each motion a silent command. you counted—three times. just enough to tease. just enough to keep you waiting.

then she pushed forward, and everything else fell away.

her fingers gripped tighter, anchoring you in place as she guided your head — not with force, but with the kind of quiet command that made your spine tingle. like she didn’t need to ask, because she already knew you’d give her everything.

“just like that, baby,” billie murmured above you, voice low and steady. “look at you. so eager.”

you flushed deeper, but didn’t pull away — your body followed her rhythm instinctively, every motion drawing you further under.

behind you, sabrina was losing patience in the best way.

her pace had shifted — no longer slow or teasing. her hips met yours with sharp, heated intent, her hands gripping your waist, then moving up, gliding along your stomach and chest. she groaned quietly when her fingers found your nipples, rolling them between her fingertips until you whimpered.

“you hear yourself?” sabrina whispered, her voice rough in your ear. “all those pretty sounds for us.”

you tried to respond, but it came out as a choked breath — too much stimulation, too much pressure, and yet not nearly enough.

billie chuckled softly. “what’s the matter, princess? thought you wanted this.”

you nodded, desperate, still trying to hold her gaze even as sabrina’s movements threatened to undo you completely.

“thought so,” billie said. “we’re treating you like a princess yet you still keep acting like nothing but a disrespectful little whore,”

sabrina leaned in closer, her breath hot on your neck. “spending all our money on you, just to be a brat huh?”

your whole body trembled. your hands gripped the sheets, your knees barely holding steady beneath you.

billie’s head is thrown back, as you hollow out your cheeks on her dick. “fuck, baby, i’m gonna cum,” billie said, her voice rough and low as she looked down at you.

your eyes met hers, wide and pleading, mascara smudged beneath them, strands of your hair tangled between her fingers. you held her gaze, breath catching in your throat, as if silently begging her to let go.

that was all it took.

billie’s hand tightened in your hair, steadying you, and with a shuddered breath, she released, her warmth filling your mouth.

you swallowed, steady despite the flood of sensation, your body still trembling from the relentless rhythm behind you.

sabrina’s pace slowed, but there was no easing off the tension between you. her hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as the heat inside you flared higher.

her breath hitched against your skin, low and ragged. “fucked you so many times, but you’re still so fucking tight baby,” she murmured, voice thick with everything she wasn’t saying.

you could feel her trembling, the subtle changes in her rhythm telling you she was close. your body responded instantly, tightening around her, desperate to hold on.

“our dirty little girl” sabrina whispered, lips brushing your neck.

the world narrowed down to the three of you, sabrina’s warmth, billie’s fingers trailing your face,your breath mingling, and your heart pounding in unison. every movement, every touch, was a promise and a claim.

“m’ gonna fucking cum, mama, you gonna let me cum in you?” sabrina whimpered out, fucking you desperately. you nod quickly.

“yes—yes, please daddy cum in me, please” and that was all it took for sabrina, before she released inside you, painting your walls white. sabrina’s hands smoothed over your skin, softening now as her breath slowed.

“fuck, you’re ours baby, our perfect little girl,” she whispered, voice full of desire and need.

and you believed her. you were theirs. completely.

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonneilish @chrissv4mp @too-sapphic-to-function @thebluediner @aka-persephone | send an ask or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 months ago

Text

“To the Moon and Beyond” pt.2

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x Reader (Pazzi x Reader)

Fandom: NCAA Women’s Basketball / WNBA

Warnings: cheating, revenge cheating, eventually in later parts there will be 18+ content (smut, alcohol consumption, strong language), polyamory, public teasing/flirting (in later parts)

Summary: A tangled history of love, heartbreak, and hidden desire leads three elite players into a secret relationship—and the WNBA spotlight.

A/N: yes this is hella long… I got in a groove and couldn’t stop writing… but yeahh enjoy!! This is also one of the longest fics I’ve ever written… will be multiple parts….cause it’s too long for tumblr…

Also thank you @paige05bby for the banner/header

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @imnotkaizer , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog

Time Passes…

Azzi’s POV – Connecticut

We never said we’d be okay again. We just said we’d try.

And that was enough.

Paige and I gave each other space when we got back to Connecticut. No more sharing playlists or crashing on each other’s couches. No long talks under low kitchen light. Just… basketball and boundaries.

And oddly, it helped.

We found our rhythm on the court again—better, even. Quieter communication. More trust. Something about everything falling apart had made us sharper. More aware. More patient.

She’d glance at me after big plays now, like checking to see if the foundation was still solid. I’d nod once. It always was.

But we didn’t talk about her. Not really.

It was like this uncrossed line neither one of us dared to cross.

Not until we had to.

Because she crossed it.

Before Paige or I could.

Y/n’s POV – Southern California

Three months.

That’s how long it took before I could breathe without tasting regret.

I started sleeping better. My shot was smoother. My appetite came back. I laughed again—loud and real—usually thanks to Juju or Avery acting like idiots in the locker room. And slowly, the ache dulled into something almost nostalgic.

That’s when I saw Paige’s post.

Just a simple photo dump post.

And without overthinking it, I did the thing I told myself I wouldn’t:

“🌚”

That emoji.

Ours.

I hit send and tossed my phone across the bed.

It didn’t take her long.

Incoming call: P.B🌝

I stared at it for a second before answering. “Hey.”

Her voice was quiet, shaky. “What does it mean?”

I smiled faintly. “It means I’ll see you soon, P.”

Three Days Later – Connecticut

They were already waiting at my Airbnb when I pulled up—Azzi leaned against Paige’s car, hoodie sleeves pushed up, Paige sitting on the hood, knees bouncing, like she hadn’t slept.

I stepped out slowly. Heart racing.

We walked into the living room in silence. The same couch they used to sit on. The same air that used to choke us.

Only this time, we all sat closer.

Nobody ran.

“I’m not asking for a miracle,” I said. “Or a relationship. Not yet. But I think… I think we all deserve to know what this could be if we tried.”

Azzi nodded. “Even if it breaks us again?”

“Even then,” Paige whispered.

I looked at them—two people I knew like the back of my hand. Two people who knew all the ugliest parts of me and still showed up.

“Let’s be honest. Let’s be clear. And let’s try—together. For real this time.”

Azzi swallowed. “You mean all three of us?”

I nodded. “If you’re both still willing.”

They looked at each other, then at me.

And for the first time in months, all of us exhaled at the same time.

It wouldn’t be easy.

But maybe it could be something.

Something wild, something flawed, something real.

Something worth breaking and rebuilding again.

Time does something to love.

It doesn’t erase it.

It stretches it. Rebuilds it in the spaces between heartbreak and forgiveness.

It’s been years since that night.

Since Azzi stood in my doorway with a suitcase and heartbreak on her lips. Since Paige cried outside my apartment like she was begging the past to love her back. Since I threw a water bottle at the only girl I ever really wanted to stay.

We tried.

Then we tried again.

And again—each time more honest than the last.

And somehow, all that trying turned into something else. Something that didn’t need to be named to be known.

Junior Year (Me & Paige) | Sophomore Year (Azzi):

It was two weeks before the start of junior year, the night it all started—Paige’s jaw in my hands, Azzi’s laugh breaking between kisses—never fully left us.

It just kept morphing.

Into private hotel rooms after games, where the world slipped away behind locked doors and drawn curtains. Into Spotify playlists shared without explanation, songs that said everything we were still too scared to.

Into FaceTimes at 3 a.m. that started with anxious whispers, melted into silence, and ended with us asleep but still connected—breathing synced through the screen, like some kind of tether neither of us wanted to cut.

Senior Year (Me & Paige) | Junior Year (Azzi):

We found a rhythm. Unspoken but steady.

Azzi and I shared playlists. Paige and I studied film together. When one of us got hurt, the other two were there. Always.

We took turns traveling. Hid in hotels. Drove hours for a few minutes of normal. Still never confirmed what this was to anyone. But we were each other’s constants. I think we all clung to that.

There were moments—quick, breathless ones—when I swore we were close to saying it out loud.

But we weren’t ready yet.

Now.

My fifth and final year.

Paige’s, too.

Azzi had the chance to declare. Agents lined up. WNBA scouts in her DMs. But she didn’t.

“Not yet,” she told us both. “I’m not done with this chapter.”

Maybe she meant basketball.

Maybe she meant us.

I didn’t ask.

We’re older now. Wiser. Still messed up in our own ways, but we don’t run from it anymore.

Because somehow, against all odds…

We made it here.

Whatever this is—we’re still writing it.

Not in the way that erases what we did or how we broke each other. But in a way that makes it all softer at the edges. Like smoothing out the corners of something once too sharp to hold. Like choosing to remember the warmth more than the ache.

We never put a label on it. There were no posts, no announcements. Just a series of moments that filled the space between “maybe” and “still.” Like Azzi flying out to surprise me during finals, showing up in a hoodie that still smelled like her detergent, standing outside my apartment with donuts and a handwritten note I’ll never throw away.

Like Paige bringing me lemon ginger tea when I lost my voice before media day, tucking a fleece blanket around my shoulders before I could protest, then sitting beside me in total silence just to be close. Like me knowing the exact minute they both needed space—and when they didn’t.

When Azzi went quiet for too long. When Paige stopped making eye contact but lingered in the doorway like she was waiting for someone to pull her back in. I always did.

The only people who knew were the ones close enough to feel the heat off us when we were all in the same room. The kind of knowing you don’t talk about out loud, because naming it might steal something from it.

There were nights when it felt too fragile to last. When someone would flinch a second too late, or ask a question we didn’t have words for yet.

But somehow, we kept choosing each other. Quietly. Constantly. In the ways that mattered most.

It was love.

Complicated. Tangled. Untraditional. But love.

We weren’t hiding. Not really. Just… protecting. We were public as best friends. Private in every other way.

Especially with Paige and I going pro soon.

Paige? Projected number one pick. Everyone had already printed the headlines. She walked into rooms like she already belonged in them—but I knew how much of that was armor, how much came from the pressure of being everyone’s golden girl for so long.

Me? Somewhere right behind her. Maybe second. Maybe third. My name floated through draft boards like a sure thing—but never the first thing. And I was okay with that. I was chasing something different anyway. Something slower. Something real.

And somehow… we were still us. Not every day. Not always smooth. But we never stopped coming back to each other.

There were team dinners where we sat across from each other pretending not to flirt through inside jokes. Long weekends where we vanished into some Airbnb upstate and forgot what the world expected from us.

Off days spent tangled in dorm beds too small for three people, limbs heavy and warm, no one ever really knowing where one body ended and the next began.

There were fights—sharp words flung in hallways, silences that lasted days. Jealousy that crept in like static: who got more minutes, more press, more offers. Exhaustion from being pulled in too many directions. But even in the worst of it, we never questioned the gravity. Never stopped orbiting each other.

And there was laughter. So much of it. Azzi’s laugh against my neck when I said something stupid. Paige’s breathless giggle when we piled on top of her after a win. Late nights watching bad TV, fingers laced, legs braided, mouths full of popcorn and too-tired confessions.

There was comfort. A kind of safety that didn’t need explaining. That silent understanding of you’re mine even when it’s hard to be.

Now, we’re back in the same room again.

The night before the draft, we end up curled together in Paige’s hotel room—no glam team, no press, no cameras. Just us.

Azzi’s on the floor with her back against the side of the bed, head leaning on my thigh, scrolling through some playlist she swears is good luck. Paige is beside me, one arm flung across my waist, her other hand tangled in Azzi’s curls like muscle memory. The air is thick with unsaid things, but none of them feel heavy.

There’s an unspoken weight hanging in the room—like we all know this is the last time it’ll feel like this. Like home.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Draft night. New cities. New teams. New people.

And yeah, we’ll FaceTime. We’ll visit. But we all know it won’t be the same. We won’t have spontaneous Wednesday night takeout or shared laundry loads or long recovery sessions where one of us always ends up asleep with someone else’s ice pack slowly melting between tangled legs.

Paige being the first to speak. “This doesn’t feel real.”

Azzi sighs softly from my lap. “It doesn’t feel fair.”

I tilt my head, resting it on Paige’s shoulder. “We knew it wouldn’t last forever.”

“Still,” Azzi says, voice tight, “I wanted more time.”

None of us say it, but we all feel it: the ache of what it means to love two people at the same time, knowing the world doesn’t always bend to make space for that.

Shortly we fall asleep in the bed tangled together as if we were a package deal, that was too fragile to separate. Paige on one side, Azzi on the other, me in between—like a bridge holding two halves of the same heart together.

And in the quiet, I let myself wonder if this is the last night we get to have like this.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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golden-cherry · 1 year ago

Text

deal - cl16 (26/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Burning things is a good way to get rid of stuff. But perhaps you and Charles have more in common than you like.

Warnings: this is quite angsty (mentions of cheating, Annika and Raphael), fire (of course), some fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

series masterlist

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A/N: this is a long one. but well, I felt like it. there are some Easter eggs in this chapter, tell me which one you found! feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)

Since your newly purchased items have not made it any further into the apartment than the hallway, Charles' bedroom looks pretty empty. There are three large boxes next to the door, which gradually fill up the longer you stay in the room.

"What about this?" you ask Charles and show him a pink candlestick that was recently on the windowsill.

Your roommate pulls his head out of the closet. "Throw it away."

"Okay." You try not to trip over anything as you walk over to the door and place the item in the left box, which already contains a vase and empty picture frames. As you straighten up again, a shirt flies past your face before landing in the right box.

"Sorry," Charles mumbles, without taking his eyes off the clothes in front of him.

"It's all right." You glance at the chest of drawers against the wall. "What about this?" you ask, pointing to the few books arranged by size on the dark wood.

Charles sighs. "Just assume you can throw away everything in this room." Another item lands in the box on the right.

Unsure, you bite the inside of your cheek.

The idea was to get all the stuff Annika left in the bedroom out of the apartment and - if possible - burn it in Jori's fire bowl, in the hope that Charles can have closure. The box on the left is for things that can't easily be turned into ashes, such as picture frames, candlesticks or small, empty flower pots. The middle one is for things Annika couldn't pack in her haste, like jewelry, clothes, electronics. She would come to collect them at some point.

The box on the right is for flammable things. The pictures from photo frames, books, tickets from events the couple attended together - and the clothes Charles throws in. And it looks like they're his.

"Can I ask why you're throwing away your clothes?" you ask timidly as you sit down on the bed. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, which will also end up in the right-hand box later.

Charles pushes some empty hangers aside before taking a jacket off the hanger. "Everything in this room is from when Annika and I were a couple." He shows you the jacket. "I was wearing this the first time we went to the racetrack together. Our first public appearance as a couple." He throws the jacket towards the door before grabbing the next item - a sweater. "I wore this one on the first Valentine's Day. We went out for dinner and then to the movies."

You purse your lips. "And you want to get rid of all these memories? Even if they are nice ones?"

The sweater lands on the jacket before Charles turns to you and looks at you for the first time since you walked into this room. "That woman cheated on me. Took advantage of my trust and broke it." His gaze is rock hard. "Whoever she was to me, she doesn't deserve to have her memories here. I want to put it all behind me. I want to be free."

You see a sad glint in his eyes, which you don't address. Instead, you get up from the bed and begin to sort out everything that's still lying around into the boxes, while Charles pulls one item of clothing after another out of the closet.

Apart from a little rustling and your footsteps, the room is silent. You want to give Charles his space, give him the peace and quiet he needs to sort out his thoughts and really come to terms with the relationship. The fact that he has asked you to help him with this warms your heart. Because even though you've only known each other for a short time, he's the person you care most about. The person you would run to immediately if your life went down the drain. The person you can tell everything to without being judged.

You seem to be that person for Charles too - the person he can trust without having to worry, the person who would help him bury a body - this feeling warms you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.

"I think that's it," Charles finally interrupts the silence and closes the now empty closet behind him while you remove the cover from one of the two pillows. His gaze wanders from your face to your hands. "You don't need to do that. We'll put the bedding in a big bag and then it can all go."

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly, but put the pillow back on the bed.

"Very sure. I don't want to sleep in a bed she slept in or cover myself with a blanket she slept under. I just want to put it behind me."

"Okay." You walk around the bed and put in the clothes that missed the box. "Which car do we take? My Renault is still at the old place and your Ferrari won't fit the stuff." Besides, it would be too conspicuous and you don't want us to be seen in it together.

"There's an old car of my brother's downstairs in the garage. It's bigger than the Ferrari," he calls out from the hallway, where he's rummaging around in one of the cupboards before entering the bedroom again. In his hand he holds a huge blue plastic bag from a Swedish furniture store. "If that's not enough, I've got another one."

It's not enough. The bedding actually has to be divided into three different bags until the bed is empty except for the mattress. As Charles stands at the front door, one bag on each shoulder and a box - containing the last bag - in his hands, he peeks past it. "Can you open the door for me, please? I'd like to take the things downstairs."

As packed as he is, you have to stifle a grin. The Monegasque looks like a pack mule. "You can walk several times, you know that? Then you won't be straining your shoulders."

Your flatmate blows a strand of hair out of his forehead. "No way. I'd rather fall down the stairs before I have to walk twice."

As you open the door and press the elevator button for him, you just shake your head. "Then it's a good thing there's an elevator here. You'll still have to go a second time."

While Charles takes the things to the underground garage, you put the other two boxes by the front door before you go in search of another large bag. As Charles has already used all the available bags from the hall cupboard, you have no choice but to take a bin liner from the kitchen. As you hear him grab the second box, you poke your head out of the kitchen.

"I'll bring the other box in a minute. You can wait downstairs by the car, okay?"

"All right," he replies and puts the box on his hip. "It shouldn't be that heavy. It's just the picture frames and stuff in there." He smiles at you. "See you in a bit then. But hurry up."

You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh before he disappears with the box in his hands. When you're alone, you walk from the kitchen into the living room, where the red roses that Charles must have forgotten are still on the white piano. You carefully put them in the bag, taking care not to tear the thin plastic, and then tie it up before dragging the bin bag into the hallway and putting it in the box.

The roses make the box much heavier than expected and when you arrive a few minutes later, panting, in the underground parking garage where Charles is already waiting to meet you, you are glad when he takes it off your hands.

"What's in there?" he asks, pointing to the bag after placing the box in the trunk of the silver car.

You shrug your shoulders. "I found this. We can burn it if you like," you simply reply and drop into the passenger seat while Charles closes the trunk.

The drive to Joris is shorter than expected and although it's not too late, the sky is already turning red, as if the sun is about to set. There's some song on the radio that you don't know and Charles isn't humming along to. As he finally steers the car through the familiar narrow alley and then pulls on the handbrake in a parking lot, the front door opens and Joris enters the courtyard.

"Hello, you two," he greets you as you get out of the car. While he shakes Charles' hand, he presses a kiss to your cheek, first on the left and then on the right. "You said on the phone that you wanted to burn something?" He rubs his hands together excitedly.

Your roommate nods and opens the trunk. "Not only that." He takes one of the boxes - the one with Annika's belongings - and hands it to his buddy. "I'd like to leave them here, if that's possible. I don't want to see Annika again and I'd be incredibly grateful if you could give her her things back."

"Of course," he replies and takes a look in the trunk. "What about this?" With a nod, he points to the box with the picture frames.

"This," Charles begins the sentence before grabbing the box and walking over to one of the garbage containers that must belong to Jori's house. Without giving it much thought, he dumps the contents into the garbage can before rejoining you to take the three bags of bedding and throwing them into the container as well. "'Is garbage. We'd like to burn the rest that's left there."

"The firewood and fuel are already ready."

The boys carry the things upstairs and you follow them. When you arrive at Jori's apartment, you close the door behind you while Joris puts the box with Annika's things in a room and Charles walks towards the rooftop terrace. You open the door for him and he smiles gently at you as he walks past you towards the fire bowl, which already has some wood in it.

A little later, Joris joins you, a small canister of gasoline in his hand. "You'll need this. Please don't burn yourselves. I've got a quick online meeting coming up and no time to drive you to the hospital."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that," says Charles as he takes the burning liquid from his buddy's hand. As Joris disappears, Charles pulls an outdoor couch sitting in a corner near the fire bowl. "In case it takes longer. Then we don't have to stand the whole time."

While Charles lights the wood, you take the garbage bag with the roses out of the box and put it next to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

Charles looks up from the small flame snaking around one of the logs. "There should be cans of Coke in the fridge. And there should be some sweets in the cupboard in the living room." When you look at him in astonishment, he grins. "Go ahead and help yourself. Joris has already eaten my entire fridge once when he was drunk."

"Okay." You leave him alone on the roof terrace and go searching. You actually find the cans in the fridge, two of which you take and put on the living room table so you can rummage through the cupboard for something sweet. You find fruit gums, some chocolate - which you probably shouldn't bring anywhere near a fire - and a bucket of popcorn, which you tuck under your arm.

When you return to Charles with your hands full, he laughs.

"What?" you ask, confused, as he takes the bucket from you. "You told me to help myself. And that's what I did."

"That's right." He motions for you to sit down on the sofa. As he sits down next to you, he nudges his knee against yours. He opens his can of Coke and you do the same. "Here's to the future." He holds his can out to you.

You clink glasses with him. "To the future."

After a few minutes, the fire burns brightly and warms you on this beautiful winter evening and Charles pokes around in the wood with a poker, which apparently belongs to the fire bowl, before grabbing the box and placing it between you on the couch. The fact that there's this physical distance between you both bothers you more than it should.

"Two years for nothing," Charles says as he pulls out the first picture. It shows him and Annika lying on the beach and smiling at the camera. He throws it into the fire. "For nothing, for absolutely nothing."

"Don't say that." You watch as the flames engulf the photo. "You learn from relationships. No matter how long they last."

He throws a piece of paper into the bowl. It looks like a concert ticket. "And what have I learned? How to be cheated on without realizing it? I definitely didn't need to learn that." His tone is cold.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. When you take your eyes off the fire and look at him, his features are soft. He looks hurt. You purse your lips. "How did you find out?"

"I caught them." As you stare at him open-mouthed, he shrugs. " I was actually planning on flying from race to race, but my gut told me to fly back home." He has to swallow. "When I walked through the front door, there were already shoes there that weren't mine. And when I walked towards the bedroom, I heard them."

You raise an eyebrow. "They were doing it in your bed?" No wonder he doesn't want to keep the bedding or the bed.

He nods weakly and throws one of his shirts into the fire. "I knew exactly what was behind the door and yet it broke my heart when I actually saw it. It wasn't much, but enough to know that it could never have been that 'it's not what it looks like' thing."

You hand him two plane tickets, which he throws away without looking at them. "And then?"

"She wanted to talk to me, begged me to stay with her and said how sorry she was. But I didn't want to hear any of it. I just turned around and left. I couldn't look her in the eye."

"I can understand that," you answer him quietly.

"I think if I had really loved her the way you do in relationships, I would have thrown her out of the apartment straight away. But when I left and created distance between us, I racked my brains as to why she did that. And it was all over the internet that a lot of people do it because they feel neglected by their partner and are looking for closeness with someone else."

"And that's why you felt so bad that you allowed her to continue living there?" He nods. Another couple of photos land in the flames and catch fire. "Did you know the man?"

He shakes his head in response. He fixates on a burning log as if he doesn't want to look at you. When he does, his gaze is full of the kind of pain and hatred you've only ever seen on his face once before. As you remember the situation, your heart breaks. For both of you.

When you answer him, your voice is no louder than your breath. "It was Raphael."

Your stomach clenches so tightly that you feel like throwing up. That's how Charles knew where Raphael worked. Something you've forgotten until now. Something is pounding behind your eyes and it's only when a tear runs down your cheek that you realize you're crying.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Charles' voice is soft and through the veil of tears you see his hand twitch, as if he's struggling to take you in his arms and comfort you. But there's this stupid box between you. And you've never felt so lonely.

"Y/N..."

"Don't," you say quietly and without thinking about it, you reach into the box between you, grab everything you can with one hand and throw it into the fire in front of you. You watch as Annika's face burns. You throw a second handful into the fire bowl. This time it's his jacket. "That bastard."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather kill them both."

A faint smile spreads across Charles' face. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Although I've thought about it before. But I'm afraid that I won't be able to drive my super-fast car if I'm behind bars."

"What if I take over for both of us?"

"I think the prison clothes would look good on you, but the visiting hours are definitely a pain in the ass and I couldn't stand not seeing you every day," he says gently and reaches for the now empty box, which he now places on the floor next to the couch. Then he pulls you into his arms. And from now on, it's not the fire in front of you that warms you.

You stare into the fire for a while, feeling Charles' arm around your waist and his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you going to tell me what's in that garbage bag?"

"Oh." You straighten up, dumbfounded, and lean over the backrest to pick up the bin bag. As you turn back to Charles, his gaze quickly flickers back to your face. "This morning - after your mother visited - we were sitting together in the living room and you couldn't stop staring at the piano. But it wasn't the piano, was it?"

He shakes his head and as you untie the knot of the bag, he takes a peek inside. "I'd totally forgotten about that just now."

"That's what I thought. That's why I brought them." You pull out the letters of roses and place them next to you on the couch before handing him the first one. While he throws the first rose into the fire, you open the bucket of popcorn and snuggle up to his side again.

"Annika gave it to me for our second anniversary," he explains, before opening his mouth and looking at you expectantly. As you pop a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, he grins at you. You ignore the fact that your fingers are tingling where they touched his lips: "I don't even like roses. I think they're too hackneyed and the most unimaginative thing you can give someone to show that you love them."

"So a gift without really making an effort," you continue his thought. "And what are your favorite flowers?"

When he looks at you, his gaze is warm and there's a sparkle in his eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. "Peonies."

You feel the warmth shoot into your cheeks and turn your gaze away from him. He throws more roses into the fire and you continue to pop popcorn into both of your mouths as the flowers burst into flames in front of you. You hope that this action is as cleansing for him as it is being said all over the internet. You hand him the second letter, which he can burn in peace, before standing up and taking his empty Coke can. "I guess you need a new one?"

His grin is wide. "Yes, please."

You disappear into the kitchen, where you leave the can on the counter and take a new one from the fridge. As you go back to Charles, you bump into Joris, who is just coming out of one of the rooms. "How did your online meeting go?"

"Pretty good," he replies and walks past you into the kitchen to take another can from the fridge. You stop in the doorway. "It was just about familiarizing myself with my new job, which I start in the New Year."

"That's right," you reply and raise your eyebrows. "You said you'd been offered a job. Are you already looking forward to it?"

"Very much. I can hardly wait," he replies as you walk towards the living room. You can watch Charles through the window as he continues to set the roses on fire. "Was that your idea? With the whole burning thing?"

You nod. "Yes. I burned my ex-boyfriend's things too when I found out he'd cheated on me. Only I didn't have a big fire bowl."

"Then where did you do it?"

You shrug your shoulders. "In the kitchen sink."

Joris has to laugh before he nudges yours with his shoulder. "Your friendship is good for him. He's never opened up to anyone as quickly as he did with you. I'm starting to think I need to worry that you're taking my place as his best friend."

"Haha. You two have known each other for ages. I don't think I could ever get in the way, even if I wanted to." You have to smile. "But Charles is definitely my best friend. There's nothing I wouldn't want to share with him."

"It's nice to hear that you're good for each other." He smiles at you.

"Do you want to come outside?" you ask him as you walk to the patio door.

Joris waves you off. "You go and do your cleansing thing. But please don't burn down the sofa. That's sacred to me."

You stick your tongue out at him and grab the blanket hanging over the back of a chair before returning to Charles, who has now reached the last letter. You hand him the Coke and spread the blanket over your knees. The sun has set, but the fire in front of you is so bright that you have no problem seeing his beautiful face.

"Do you think she would have cheated on me too if I had been a better boyfriend?" Charles asks quietly at one point, without looking at you.

"I don't know."

He thinks for a moment. "She said that everything in my life revolves around Formula One. That I don't notice what's going on around me. And that I was never there for her like a boyfriend should be. And that she had to share me with the whole world." As he turns to you, you see tears glistening in his eyes. "You said you were sure there was someone out there for me who wouldn't find my job too hectic. Who will support me no matter how hard it gets."

You turn to him and put your hand to his cheek to make him look at you. A tear rolls down his cheek and you wipe it away with your thumb. "I have. And I mean it."

He licks his tongue over his lips. "You also said that there's a person out there for everyone. A soulmate with whom you can share everything. With whom you don't have to pretend and can be who you really are." You feel his arms wrap around your middle and before you know it, you're sitting in his lap.

You wrap your arms around his neck so you can hold him tight.

"So you think there's someone else out there for me? That I haven't missed my chance at love?" You feel his warm breath on your face and how much you want to kiss away the tears that escape his eyes. Take away all his pain. Show him how much he means to you.

But now is not the right time. Someday. Maybe.

"I promise you that."

You watch him throw the last rose into the fire. In an instant, the red blossoms catch fire, the stem begins to glow and before you know it, this last piece from a time Charles wants to forget at all costs disappears and turns to ash.

His grip on you tightens. A sign for you to turn towards him. When you look at him, his cheeks are wet, but he doesn't look sad. The smile on his face is honest and genuine and so loving that you can't help but return it.

He would love to put his hands on your face and kiss you until you can't breathe. To feel your lips on his, your skin on his and tell you how important you are to him. How much he craves you and that everything he feels for you goes beyond the limits of friendship. But the only thing he does is grab your hand with his and squeeze it twice. Maybe you'll understand. Understand why he always squeezes twice.

The right time will come. Someday. Maybe.

When you look at him, with tears in your eyes and a warmth that makes his heart stumble, he has to swallow. He's never been as grateful to anyone as he is to you.

"I'm free."

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