#what has maxi done for me though

[fazcinatingblog]

dunno whether to cricket tonight and die in 38 degree heat or

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 5

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts? (That was a nice fever dream. I am now thinking maybe 8-9?)

Max didn‘t wait until he was back at the hotel to call Colette. He was attached to his phone as soon as he got done with that horrible press conference. 

He really didn‘t care what anybody else had to say about that. As soon as he could, he called Colette.

It wasn‘t Colette that picked up though, it was Pascale, her mother.

"Max," she greeted him.

Max was surprised to hear Pascale's voice on the other end of the line. He had been expecting to hear Colette's voice, and hearing her mother instead sent a jolt of anxiety through him.

"How is she doing?" He asked. He didn't need to say more. Pascale understood.

"She's...she's not doing well," Pascale said wearily. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "She's been crying almost non-stop since the news broke."

Max closed his eyes, his heart clenching painfully at the news. The thought of Colette crying, of her being so upset and distressed...it was unbearable.

"Can I talk to her?" he asked, desperately needing to hear her voice.

He needed to hear that she was okay, that she was holding up. He needed to know that she was coping.

Somehow. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Max held his breath as he waited for Pascale to respond. He could hear muffled voices in the background, and he knew that Pascale was likely talking to Colette.

"Maxie?"

Colette had cried. That was clearly obvious in her voice, how hoarse it was...how even these two syllable seemed to take so much effort from her, her voice hitching. He could hear her shaky breathing over the phone, clearly her trying to get a grip on herself and not worry him even more.

But that had become impossible the moment George Russell had decided to get completely bananas.

"Hey, liefje," he said softly. "How are you doing?"

Colette's voice caught on a sob, and Max's heart ached at the raw emotion in it. He could practically picture her, sitting in their living room, tears streaming down her face as she tried to hold it together.

"I'm...I'm not okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max's heart clenched in his chest, and he desperately wished he was there with her. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her. But he could only listen.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice thick with emotions. "How can I help you?"

He needed to do something, anything to ease her pain and make her feel better. "Do you want me to come home?" He asked her. "I'll do it, liefje. Say the word."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. He could hear Colette breathing heavily, clearly trying to compose herself.

"No," she finally said, her voice sounding a bit more steady. "No, please don't. You have a race tomorrow. You need to focus."

Max's heart squeezed at her words. He wanted nothing more than to hop on the next plane back to Monaco and be with her. But he knew she was right. He couldn't just abandon his team and the race like that. "If you change your mind..." he trailed off.

"No, we are not doing that," Colette said shakily. "Your races are yours, and I'll be waiting once you come home."

"You are more important than any race ever could be," he disagreed sharply. More important than anything else to him. He loved her so much. "I want you to know that."

He needed her to know that. 

She had always been a pillar of support to him. Had never questioned how much of his time his career demanded. Had never once thrown it at his head in an accusatory way. She had always accepted it. Had supported him every step of the way, from his first practice in a Formula 1 car, through his first point finish, his first race win, four championships…

She had always supported him. 

But no race win…no trophy, no world champion title was ever going to be as important to him as Colette. 

He would happily give all of that up, if it meant that he got to come home to her. 

He heard her exhale shakily.  "I do know that," Colette said softly. "I know that. But...But even if you were here, you couldn't do anything but hold me. Everybody is..." she trailed off and he could hear another hitch in her breath. "Did you...Did you see what Arthur did?" She asked him, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"I did, liefje," he agreed softly. "He shouldn't have done that without talking to you first."

"Or to you. This is your life too," Colette disagreed.

"Colette," he said carefully. "I don't care that the public knows. You were the one that wanted to keep this private, which was completely alright with me. I agreed to that. It didn't bother me, liefje. But I wouldn't have cared if it was public knowledge either. I am only upset with Arthur because he upset you."

Colette didn't answer. He could picture her sitting on their bed, cross legged, one hand resting on her baby bump…she took deep breaths, clearly trying to keep her tears at bay.

"I just...I feel so stupid," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel so stupid...I shouldn't be so upset by this. But I am and I..." her voice trailed off.

"Hey," he interrupted gently. "You are allowed to be upset, liefje. You are allowed to feel however you feel," he reminded her carefully.​​

There was a knock at the door and he looked up to see Gemma stick her head into the driver’s room, a grimace on her face. "Can it wait?" He demanded from her, not caring at all, that he was being rude.

"No, it can't. George Russell had some more stuff to say," Gemma said hesitantly.

Colette must have heard it, because he got to hear another choked off sob from her.

"Liefje," he said softly. "I want you to let me deal with this, alright? Don't look online. Don't search it out. Just ignore it. Your only job right now is to take care of you and our baby," he told her fiercely. "Let us take care of the rest."

Colette let out another shaky breath on the other end of the line. He could hear her trying to compose herself, trying to push the sobs back.

Finally, she said quietly, "Okay," in a small, meek voice, and he hated how defeated she sounded.

"Go cuddle with the cats," he told her softly. "Let your Mom spoil you."

"M…Maman’s making hot cocoa," Colette offered weakly, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

It was faint, but it was there. And that was all he could hope for right now."I am jealous," he teased her lightly.

"I'd save you some, but it's too good to share," she teased back before her voice caught on another sob, and he knew that this was it. This was the end of her being able to converse with him.

"Hey," he said gently. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too," Colette whispered in a broken voice. "So much."

Max hated that he couldn't be there, he hated that he had to hang up. He just wanted to hold her, to remind her that everything was alright.

"I want you to do something for me," he told her in a firm voice. "I want you to take a bath. And a long one," he told her. "One of the nice lavender scented bubble bath, I always make fun of you about. And I want you to eat dinner. And I want you to watch some of those stupid tv shows you love, and for you to relax. And rest. Can you do that?"

"I...I'll try," Colette said weakly over the line. He could hear her crying getting slightly worse again, the realization that they were ending the call obviously hitting her.

"And then you will take the best nap. And cuddle with our cats," he continued. "Alright? You'll do all that for me?"

"Yes," she answered him, her voice breaking on that one word.

Max closed his eyes, his heart hurting as he took a deep breath. "I am going to hang up now. I'm sorry, love."

"I know," she whispered, and he could hear the desperation in her voice. The need to keep the phone line between them open. But he knew that she was tired and he knew that she was distraught. And he knew that she needed rest. He needed to let her go.

"I love you," he said fiercely. "I love you so damn much, liefje. I'll talk to you as soon as I can."

"I-I love you," Colette managed back, before her voice broke on a sob again. "More than anything. Please...be careful tomorrow, okay? Be careful."

"I will," he promised her. "I swear, I will be careful. I'll come home to you in one piece, okay? I promise."

"You better," she told him in a wobbly voice. It was half pleading, half joking, and it just about crushed him.

"I swear. I'll try my damn hardest," he promised her. "And when I get home? I promise I will hold you for hours. I won't let you go, liefje."

He hung up on her then. And then he turned to Gemma. "What could Russell possibly have said that I should care about it right now?"

"How about that you have spent the last 15 years living a lie and that he wouldn't want you to date his sister, because your girlfriend probably is the one dealing with all your anger issues?" Gemma offered drily.

Max looked at her in disbelief for a moment, his mind refusing to process her words immediately, they were so completely insane.

"What?" He finally asked, his voice coming out in a disbelieving croak. Gemma handed him her phone, a grimace on her face. And there it was in black written text. Screencaps of statements George Russell had made.

 None of it making any sense whatsoever. Max had no idea what the other driver had snorted that had sent him off the rocker like that.

"They tried to get Charles Leclerc to comment as well, but he said it was insulting and that he has not once worried about you and Colette, more the opposite," Gemma said quickly. "Everybody that has ever seen the two of you together knows that it's complete bullshit, Max."

Still. He swallowed.

"I would never lay a finger on her," he said weakly. Not ever.

Colette was...Colette was everything. Colette had been his safe place before he even knew what that was or that he needed one. 

He would rather cut off his own hand than to put a finger at her in anger.

Gemma stepped over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Everybody knows that," she told him gently. "Everyone that knows you knows that you would never. Just like everyone knows that the other stuff Russell has said is nonsense as well."

Max closed his eyes, letting Gemma's words sink in. He knew that they were true. The people in his life, the people that knew him and Colette...they knew that those accusations were completely ridiculous. That even thinking he would ever hurt Colette was laughable.

"But..." he said quietly. "Social media won't care that it's complete crap."

"It'll blow over. You know the online world has the attention span of a goldfish," she said with a shrug. "We'll send the usual suspects to talk to the media tomorrow to make it clear that you neither have anger issues nor that anybody needs to worry about you laying a single finger on Colette," Gemma promised. "I know that this is hurtful, Max, but I think it just makes it very clear that everything that Russell has said has been completely made up."

Max leaned his head against the door behind him, his mind racing, trying to process everything. He knew she was right. That everything she was saying was reasonable. But it still hurt. It hurt that somebody would come at him and his relationship with Colette like that. Especially when it was so clear that they knew nothing about them.

"I'm going to call some people," Gemma told him gently and with a final squeeze on his shoulder left the room.

Max took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to process everything and calm his racing thoughts. He wanted to call Colette again. He wanted to explain again and again that he would never hurt her. That all of this was complete and utter bullshit.

But he didn't want to bother or upset her even more, if she had even been able to rest at all.

And he hated this. He hated this so much.

He really did. He hated that there was nothing he could do.

He hated that the next day was going to be a media circus. He hated that he was going to have to sit in a car for an hour and a half tomorrow, without being able to see or talk to her.

And most of all, he hated George Russell.

Bath. Lavender. Warm Water. And hot cocoa.

She felt like a child again.

Her Maman had been hovering around her all afternoon and early evening, fussing over her when she really didn't need it, but Colette was glad that her mother refused to leave her alone.

Especially when her mother tucked her into bed like she had done when she had been a wayward 6-year old. 

"Arthur didn't think," her mother said softly. "He didn't do this on purpose to hurt you."

Colette let out a shaky breath. "I know he didn't," she said thickly. "But I am just so mad at him. And it just...hurt," she admitted. It hurt more than she had thought.

"I know," her mother said softly.

Another shaky exhale, and Colette closed her eyes, just to keep the tears at bay.

"I knew it was going to come out one day," she admitted weakly. "But I never wanted it to come out like this. Not now.”

Bébé rumbled unerneath her skin, striking out to kick against her ribs once more. She laid her hand over where he had just kicked her. 

Her mother gently sat down next to her, gathering her in her arms and pulling her close. Colette melted into it and leaned into her Mom with a soft, shaky sigh.

"It wasn't right of Arthur to say anything," her mother told her quietly. "He had no right to share that picture. Nor to talk about your relationship. Not without talking to you about it first."

Colette swallowed back another bout of tears, hiding her face in her Mom's chest. "I know," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "I know, it wasn't his news to share, but...it's still just...it's just so upsetting."

Her mother ran a hand over her hair while the other circled her back in a soft, circular motion. "I know," her mother agreed, her voice kind and soft. "But this doesn't change anything. You know that, right? The important people already knew," she continued softly. "Your family and friends. They all know that Max and you are in a relationship."

A quiet nod, Colette still hiding her face in her mother’s chest, her fingers clinging onto her shirt.

"It's just...." she said weakly. "It still hurts. A lot."

Her mother's arms wrapped around her a little tighter, a gentle kiss placed atop her head. "I know," her Mom agreed again, gently rubbing Colette's back. "It hurts, and it sucks, and it's not fair that he didn't talk to you about it before. I'm sorry, Choupinette."

Colette swallowed again, and exhaled, trying to hold it together. But a few tears escaped anyway. "I just...I just wish that he hadn't. I feel so exposed now," she admitted in a half-whisper.

"I know," her Mom agreed again, letting Colette let out another round of quiet tears. "I know, Choupinette," her mother repeated, gently rubbing her back again, her arms tight around her.

Colette sniffled again, her emotions a tangled, swirling mess, and clung on tighter to her Mother. "I just...I just wish Max was here," she admitted in a broken whisper.v"He asked me if he should come home," she admitted softly.

Her mother’s hand ran gently up and down her back, still hugging Colette tight.

"What did you tell him?" she asked quietly.

Colette swallowed past the lump in her throat and breathed in shakily. "I told him to race. I told him I didn't want him to come home," she said shakily, more tears escaping her.

Her mother hummed quietly and hugged her a little tighter. "Why?" Her mother's voice was gentle and curious, no judgement and accusation to be found.

"Because I fell in love with a 12-year-old boy for whom racing was the most important thing in his life,” she answered, her voice soft. “Max has this...passion for it. This incredible love. And I promised myself then, that I was never going to be the one to take it from him," she explained softly. "I was never going to make him chose. Between me and racing."

And maybe that was also because for years...she had wondered if she was going to be the one of the two he would chose. 

Her mother was quiet behind her for a moment, only the soothing motion of her hand rubbing along Colette's back continuing.

And then her mother said, softly.

"You know he would chose you in a heartbeat, don't you?"

Colette buried her face further into her mother, her tears starting to flow again as she let her mother's words sink in.

Because she wanted to believe it. She really, really wanted to.

"He will never need to," she said simply. "He said ​​the same thing but…I would never take it away from him."

Her mother hummed again and tightened her arms around her a little.

"I know you wouldn't," she assured. "But he still wouldn't hesitate, love."

Colette took another shaky breath, trying to keep herself from completely falling to pieces just from the thought of it. It was true. She knew it deep in her bones. Max would drop everything to get to her, if she only asked. And it just made her feel like crying more.

"I just...I just miss him," she admitted in a sniffly voice, her nails digging in her mother's soft shirt.

Her mother's gentle hand was running over her hair again, trying to soothe her as best as she could. "I know, baby," she whispered. "You'll see him soon."

Colette huffed a breath against her mother’s chest, the thought both a comfort and a curse.

She wanted to see him. She wanted to crawl into his arms and just listen to him tell her everything was going to be okay, and believe every single word of it.

Another shaky inhale and exhale, and Colette's hands gripped her Mom's shirt, just to keep from completely falling apart.

It was all so overwhelming, with Max so far away, and just everything in general.

Her breath shuddered again when her mother's arms tightened around her once more, pulling her even closer to her chest, as if she was trying to protect her through sheer force of will.

Colette let her, burying her face in her Mom's soft chest and trying to hold it all together.

[pandoras-box-27]

kiss it when you're done pt 1

max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc

wc: 1445

summary: In 2014, friends max verstappen and charles leclerc watch a race led by y/n l/n, a rising star in the racing world, with whom max and charles become infatuated.

warnings: boners? nothing beyond that yet

a/n: the first bit of my lestappen challengers au! hope it's worth the wait.

“Maxie,” Charles teasingly calls for him. Max stops, rolling his eyes as he watches the boy run to catch up with him. “Can you not demolish me tomorrow?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Max scoffs, sipping water from his blindingly bright red bottle.

“No, look, I’m at peace with the fact that you’re going to win-”

“It’s still the air, it’s not a fact,” Max interrupted, Charles was known to be rather self-destructive and Max wasn’t known for tolerating it.

They’d known each other's quirks since they were just children, battling their disagreements out on the karting track. They’d grown closer as friends but continued playing rivals once they got in the car. They were both prodigies for their age. Max just seemed more confident in his skills, constantly pushing himself to the limits, and it was abundantly clear when he was put against Charles. A smug, charming young boy, who got praise, win or lose. Was Max jealous of Charles’ familial situation and unconditional support? Not that he’d ever say out loud. However, Charles was equally jealous of Max’s genuine skill. It fueled their fighting on and off the track, though it was more like sibing rivalry.

“But, statistically, it’s much more likely,” Charles rambled. Max laughed, practically spitting his water out. Charles scoffed before continuing. “I’m just saying, like… throw me a bone? Let me lead for a moment?”

Max stopped in front of him, turning to face him. “If it matters to you so much, I can just give it to you.”

Charles paused, in shock. “Wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“I’m kidding,” Charles rolled his eyes, which made him smirk. He continued down the path, already knowing Charles was still behind him. “Do you have money on this or something?”

“My mum’s coming.”

——

Max and Charles situated themselves in between the packed bodies in the paddock. They stood unbothered, suddenly thankful they still weren’t famous enough to be recognized, just the occasional local throwing themselves at Charles’ pretty feet. Max just watched, jaw slack, his eyes as he watched each of them have to dust themselves off after being rejected. 

“You don’t want any of them? The last one was pretty hot.” Max guffawed, shamelessly ogling the ass of the last girl as she stomped away.

He scolded the other man, playfully, “Too desperate, it makes me, by proxy, seem desperate.” 

Max nodded along, as if he understood what he was saying. If it had been Max he would’ve ‘disappeared’ to the nearest broom closet with the first girl. Charles was devishly handsome, and was annoyingly aware of it. He knew he had every girl at his feet. Max was charming as well, though. He just wasn’t as confident in them, not as much as he was in his skill. 

Max was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by the cheers from a nearby garage. His head tilted back up at the screen in front of him. He watches the replay of the moment. 

“What an amazing overtake, once again, by the Y/N L/N!” 

“Wow, in that car? That’s impressive.” Charles remarked, 

“Did you know she already has gotten the team multiple sponsors? Just cause she’s driving it.” Max stated like he had her fact sheet already memorized.

Charles’s eyes flipped back and forth between the screen and Max, his mouth agape. “What? How?” 

“She’s probably going pro in like, a month. I watched her at the last race as well. She could win the real thing tomorrow.” 

Charles and Max stared at the screen with wide eyes and a lethal dose of curiosity. To say that Y/N is smoking the competition would be an understatement. In a car most wouldn’t bet on, she’s making them look like less than karting champions. As Max and Charles watch, both of them steadily. 

Charles glanced down at his crotch after a particularly incredible point. As swiftly as he realized what was happening, he picked up his popcorn from the table next to him and held it over his prevalent bulge. 

Barely a moment later, Max looks down, blushing as he sees his own boner, before doing exactly the same thing. They both looked straight ahead at the race, trying to look as casual as possible, neither of them realizing that the other was in exactly the same boat.

—

“The L/N Foundation,” Charles read slowly from the pamphlet sitting on the table, “Inspiring young women in motorsports.”

“Wow, a foundation in her second year Formula racing?” Max asked, his eyes tracked on her as she glided through the crowds like they were the Red Sea.

“It’s her family’s,” Charles explained, flipping through the pages, “Her mother was in motorsports but it wasn’t as acceptable in the 70s. Her father raced in her honor but it wasn’t the same-”

Charles looked up and noticed Max had drifted away to a table further up, closer to the dance floor. He swiftly came up to the empty space next to him. 

“Did you know she's from a small town just outside France?” Charles pretended to read the small printed text, “It’s near where I grew up.”

Max looked over at him, curiously smirking, “Yeah?”

“Born and raised, she doesn’t know much English,” Max slowly nodded along, his eyes rising back to her. 

“You should read the pamphlet,” Charles teased the blond, poking his side. Max shook his head, not being able to take his eyes off her. The music suddenly changed from something slow and soft to one of the big American ‘club’ songs with lyrics their mothers wouldn’t approve of.

Max’s lips curled into a wide smirk and Charles’ eyes went wide as they watched Y/N's hips sway to the rhythm of the song playing in the background. Her dress was tight around her chest, accentuating her perfect tits, and flowed out over a layer of petticoat that moved dramatically with every swish of her hips. She was the perfect mix of alluring and elegant, just as she had been on the track, which left both of their heads spinning. 

“I’d let her fuck me with that trophy of hers,” Max whispered into Charles’ ear, only making him blush harder as his imagination went wild.

“Oh my god,” Charles muttered softly under his breath. He couldn’t believe it, he’d never seen anyone so perfect. He watched her whisper-shout something to her friends before slowly exiting the dance floor.

“Oy,” Max slapped Charles’ arm, before running over to the couch she was heading towards. Charles followed suit (once he realized what was happening)

Just as she reached the sofa area, they were on her tail. She turned around in shock. Max raced to start and, easily slipping into the little French he knew, spoke first.

“Bonjour, madame, je m'appelle-”

“I’m Charles Leclerc, it’s nice to meet you,” Charles interrupted, smiling widely and eagerly.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N bit back a smile, shaking Charles’ hand, a firm handshake as his hand lingered just a second too long. She pulled back after a moment, reaching for Max’s as she started to speak again, “Uhm, enchante. I, uh-”

“Don’t speak French,” Max sighed, mentally cursing himself for his stupidity. Charles wasn’t necessarily lying, Y/N was born and raised from a small town just outside France, and it was near Monaco. It was just in Italy. His mistake was immediately apparent. The thick accent laid on her tongue and rang like choir bells in their ears.

“Well, yes, not well. But, I was going to say, ‘I already knew who you two are.’” Y/N shrugged, laughing a little to herself. She plopped herself down on the couch behind her, staring up at the two men. “You’re Formula’s next big thing, my father doesn't shut up about you.

You’re racing in Formula 3 next year, yes?” Charles swears he’s never seen Max’s head move faster. 

“You’re not signing to -”

“Yeah. How did you -- ?”

“Me too.” Y/N says, leaving silence among the group. 

 “What?” Charles exclaimed, excitedly.

“I just accepted the offer, and they mentioned you,” she smiled brightly, they couldn’t tell if she was more happy for Charles or herself. Her head whipped around at the sound of someone calling her name. She sat up off the sofa. “Nice to meet you two,” She stared at Max, and with her best (terrible) French accent, “Au revoir.”

Charles held back a laugh as he watched her leave. Max punched him in the gut, not hard, more playfully, but it still hurt. Charles bent over, holding his stomach simultaneously for the large belly laugh he was letting out and the pain.

“I can’t believe you believed me,”

“You little shit.”

taglist

@ananyasr1bughead @akkklys @meglouise00

[leclarifies]

Girlie, please do part 2 to letters!! That was so good!!!

kiss me, under the paris twilight (MV33)

part II to letters

꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱

synopsis┊after max announces his retirement and the both of you publishing your relationship to the world, he has a devious plan up his sleeve.

genre┊fluffy, slight smut.

word count┊3.1k

aria yaps┊ask, and you shall receive!!! anyways, i FREAKING LOVED WRITING THIS as per usual, this has been my favorite series i've done so far. it's so fluffy, so cute. the traction the first part got had me SCARED. the amount of people asking for a part 2 was crazy, so here it is! i hope you enjoyed it! i threw in some social media posts in there to keep it entertaining as well :3

"(blue eyed dutch boy) got me trippin', how your skin is always soft? how your kisses always hit? how you know just where to-" - lisa, "moonlit floor (kiss me)"

PARIS, FRANCE.

max had wanted to get away from the landscape of formula one, he had told her that he wanted some alone time after being away from her for so long and she accepted, not being in belgium long even though she just moved there.

her mother had some things to say, not knowing that it was max who planned the trip but when she explained herself to her mother, she had a twinkle in her eye and told her good luck with raised her eyebrow.

they had arrived to paris in the night time, wanting to get a bit of rest from their flight before exploring paris, just the two of them.

she was doing some skincare in the bathroom when she felt a familiar presence behind her, it was her max, looking at her through the mirror, "you look beautiful," he murmured in her ear, she could only smile softly at her boyfriend.

yes, boyfriend. he had practically shouted it out to the world when he claimed her as his, not literally though. he wanted to keep things quite private since their relationship was quite new, not wanting to shove her into the spotlight like that.

"thank you liefje," she had responded back, equally as soft as she continued her ministrations on her face, wanting her skin to look nice, not only for herself but for when she was inevitably thrust into the public-eye.

max littered kisses on the side of her face, hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him, he had been so clingy. so much clingier than what she remembered. maybe is was the time and distance between the last time that they met that made him this way, but he absolutely did not want his hands not on her.

eventually, they both got settled into the bed of their suite. she had scolded max for getting a room so expensive but he responded with something along the lines of, 'i am no longer that little boy that you first met, let me spoil you.'

she wanted to smack him but he didn't care, all he wanted to do now was spend the money that he earned from being in formula one on her. he didn't need that much money, but she knew how much money girls spent to keep their appearance, so if it's his money that she used, he didn't care.

max rested his head on her chest as the both of them put a movie on to watch, something about a fighter pilot romance, she didn't really understand but he picked it, so she didn't complain.

"did you end up reading all the letters i sent?" max asked with a quiet voice, his hand caressing her hips mindlessly, just wanting to touch. she shook her head no, he had written her a lot. she had barely gotten through half of them. the letters were filled with love, always asking about how she's been, his achievements and how much he's missed her.

"you had written me a lot of letters, maxie. i can't get through all of them, i've been back barely two weeks," she had reminded him and he could only hum a response back, his eyes were already drooping, tried from the flight and today's activities.

her hand was on his head, softly petting max. she only stopped when she heard his soft breaths, signaling that he was indeed asleep already. she wanted to laugh at how fast he fell asleep around her, he had complained about it at first, not understanding why he fell asleep so fast in her presence. he just wanted to spend time with her without feeling sleepy.

she then later researched about it and found out that max felt safe around her, and that's why he felt sleepy a lot around her. she didn't tell him though, figuring it'd be nice to keep this one thing a little secret between her and herself.

she fell asleep not long after, feeling quite sleepy in his presence as well.

hand in hand, max and her were walking through the streets of paris. she understood why he picked paris though, it's the city of love after all.

"i have a place where i get my pastries, i really like it," max had spoke as she continued to walk with him, "i've been there a couple times just as a vacation by myself, i think you'll like it too."

she smiles at max before letting him lead the way, eventually they found themselves in a small quaint corner of the city, entering the bakery. the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries entered her senses and she sighed in content.

max made the initiative to go up to the counter and ordered a few pastries that he thought she would like while she looked around to see what she would like, maybe a pain au chocolat? she's been wanting to try those ever since she got to paris.

"liefje, maybe a pain au chocolat for me?" she called out to max, and he nodded. he had ordered it first because she's mentioned it a few times on their trip, he was very attentive when it came to her needs, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable or unhappy with him or the trip. he just wanted her content and that's how she felt, fortunately for him.

they exited the bakery with a few pastries and a pain au chocolat for her in her hands, she bit into it and a cute sound escaped her lips, "oh my god, this is so good maxie."

max could only smile, he hated that he had to suggest the bake shop first, now they couldn't hold hands. he was very big on skinship and skin-to-skin contact, she could tell.

lunch was where they were headed next, and she hoped that it was going to be as romantic as how the day was going.

liked by charles_leclerc, danielriccardo and 98,054 others

mv33updates some fans spotted max with a mystery girl around france, who could she be?

user1: NOT CHARLES AND DANNY BEING IN THE LIKES

user2: PFT NO WAY I JUST SAW

user1: THEY ARE SOOO MESSY AND THEY KNOW WHAT'S UP

user3: are we sure that's max? his face is covered in most of them 😭

user4: GIRL ARE YOU BLIND?

user5: honestly very happy for him and the mystery girl! he looks like he likes her very much

user6: they look so cute with eachother :(

user7: she looks pretty tho, can someone let me know who she is??

user8: from research and a little snooping around, i think she's @/yourusername but!!!! i may be wrong :D

MONACO.

"uh oh," left her lips as she scrolled past something on her instagram explore page, "maxie, i think we've been found out."

max was sitting up straight on their bed now, eyebrows raised in panic.

no, this was not how it was supposed to go, they were supposed to have a small private trip to france outside of the public eye. he really screwed this one up.

"i'm gonna call my lawyer," max said as he took out his phone but she stopped him, looking down where he was sitting. he was mad at himself for letting this happen, of course fans were going to be everywhere. he should've thought about that before inviting her out to france.

"maxie, stop. it's okay. you're worried over nothing, it's just fan speculation. they don't know until you react and by sending them cease and desist letters will only confirm that it's true," she had reminded him, and he knew she was right.

max captured her in a hug and sighed against her stomach, "i'm sorry schatje, i just wanted to keep you away from the public eye for as long as possible," he mumbled, he knew how harsh the media was going to be, it was always hard when new relationships were forming.

they were back home in monaco now, settled in max's apartment, safe from being bombarded with paparazzi. his big blue eyes were now looking up at her, she gave him a small kiss on the forehead, "you are fine max. maybe if you want, you can take the horse by the reigns and post something yourself?"

"your mind amazes me sometimes, schatje."

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,709,348 others

maxverstappen1 Hi, just wanted to come on here to say that I do indeed have a girlfriend and we had a fun time in France 🥐 Please be nice to her, she is my best friend and the love of my life and I hope all of you have the respect to love her as equally as you do with me 😊 Don't bombard her Instagram as she would like to keep it private for the time being, please respect that. I didn't want to share her with you guys at first, but here she is. I love you schatje 💕 tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i love you too, liefje. liked by creator ♡

maxverstappen1: 😘

user8: OH OKAY MAX, DEFINITELY NEEDED THIS ON THE TL THIS MORNING.

user9: hand placement??? max, the man that you are.

redbullracing: ❤ liked by creator ♡

user10: nooo, her insta is private :(

user11: please respect her privacy, max said it himself.

user12: woah, we can barely see her face but i know that she's gorgeous...

user13: right????

user14: please drop more faceless y/n content, we wanna see T__T liked by creator ♡

user15: fist in my mouth rn

user16: NEW WAG ON THE STREETS

"schatje?" max's morning voice croaked out from the bedroom, she was in the kitchen with the two cats cooking some breakfast for the both of them, she called out from the kitchen, saying that she was cooking them both breakfast before she felt arms wrap around her middle and face being buried in the crook of her neck.

"you left bed without me," max mumbled, and she hummed a response, still focused on the stove which was still on. it's been a few months of her being back and he's been savoring these lazy mornings when he could.

there was a two week formula one break, which meant more time with her and max loved spending time with her and she knew how much he did, the clinginess was going down a bit more everyday, maybe because he was getting used to her presence being a constant in his life again.

they spent a lazy morning together, eating breakfast in bed with the kitties. they seemed to love her, preferring her to feed them over max. she would laugh when max would feel betrayed after calling them over when they were in your arms, not wanting to move an inch.

he understood why though, he loved her as much as the cats did, maybe more.

SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL.

a beautiful performance by max on the race, and an even more beautiful face waiting for him as he finished first place. the first person he ran to was her, it was muscle memory at this point. wrapping her in an embrace, even though the race suit he wore was soaked in rainwater and clung onto him like a second skin.

"this one was for you, schatje," he whispered in her ear as everyone erupted into cheers for max. he had an incredible drive, starting from p17 to finish off winning the race. an absolute masterclass if she did say so herself.

to say that he only specifically dedicated this race for her, was a lie. he dedicated every race to her, and she was always there for him whether he finished first place or maybe got the result that wasn't satisfactory to him, he still dedicated it to her and she was always there. cheering him on, unconditionally.

he was so proud of himself, and so happy that the love of his life was able to watch his incredible performance.

kisses were trailed down from her neck all the way down to her stomach, max was going to worship her tonight if it was the last thing he did.

she was wearing his favorite set he had bought for her, maybe because of his win earlier today, maybe just to relieve some stress but he didn't care. all that he cared was his girlfriend looked delectable and he was there to feast tonight.

his kisses ended just right as he reached her core, a soft whine erupting from her throat before he gently tugged away at the panties that were covering her.

god, he loved her so much. she looked like a goddess on his hotel bed like that.

and feast he did, he pulled her legs apart and ate.

her hands automatically reached for his head of hair, tugging on it gently as moans escaped her, whether she was willing or unwilling to let them out.

he knew how to make her feel good and he was going to exploit that tonight.

the next morning, she was sore all over, bending in some weird positions max insisted on trying. she wasn't mad though, just a tiny bit sore, "you okay, liefje?" max mumbled against her lips, they were both very indecent under the covers.

she pecks him on the lips before she had a sparkle in her eye, "i think i'm ready to take this thing officially public."

"oh i've been waiting to show your pretty face off, schatje."

ABU DHABI, UAE.

"AS MAX VERSTAPPEN CROSSES THE FINISH LINE, HE WILL BE CROWNED KING OF THE WORLD DRIVER'S CHAMPIONSHIP. AN INCREDIBLE DRIVE FROM HIM, MARKING THIS HIS FOURTH IN A ROW."

the first face he searched for in the crowd when he got out of the car was hers, the smile she had on her face was unforgettable. she looked so proud and happy for him.

she almost fell over from the force of the hug that she was captured in, she had so much love in her heart for him and seeing him win his fourth world driver's championship in person was so much better than seeing it from the screen.

max kissed her, hard. he worked so hard for this. he earned this with blood, swear and tears all so he could impress his pretty girl, he promised that he would all those years ago, and here they were.

"i did it for you schatje, i want you to be proud of me, so i got my fourth wdc," he spoke after he disconnected from the kiss, and all she could do was smile at him, not having enough words.

soon, he was whisked away to celebrate with his team and all he could see when he looked back to meet her eyes filled with love.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, danielriccardo and 5,09,643 others

maxverstappen1 As the year comes to an end, I would like to announce my retirement from Formula 1. It has been such a pleasure to work with splendid people whilst at @/redbullracing, I could have never asked for a better team. Cheers to spending the rest of my life with @/yourusername!

tagged yourusername

yourusername: we look so cute in the new years photo :( liked by creator ♡

maxverstappen1: You are the cutest, liefje.

yourusername: i love you

maxverstappen1: I love you too.

user17: is this.... an marriage announcement........

user18: WELL HE DID SAY "CHEERS TO SPEDNING THE REST OF MY LIFE" SO...

user19: patiently waiting for the engagement post...

user20: she is so pretty T___T liked by creator ♡

"this is the area that i used to live in," she had offered a trip around asia, wanting to feel the various seasons that asia had to offer, their first stop was korea, she wanted to show max where she basically grew up in. the area, the food, the culture. she loved every piece of korea even though it did prevent her from being with max.

it didn't matter though, they were here together now.

she walked max through all of it, her school, her university. her favorite places to eat, and meeting up with some of her high school friends, all of them not knowing that she were indeed friends (and dating) the ex-formula one driver, four time world champion max verstappen.

the looks on their faces were priceless, she wished she could've snapped a pic. all of them were formula one fans, of course. courtesy of her, she forced them to watch the races even when they didn't want to and turned them into fans of the sport. now they watched on their free time, she never mentioned that she used to know max though, not wanting to sound delusional.

"it's fucking cold here schatje," max's teeth were chattering against eachother, she could only laugh. the winters here were definitely colder than the ones he would usually experience in belgium, so she wasn't bewildered when he didn't feel comfortable with the cold nipping his skin, "how the fuck did you survive this for ten years? my ass is freezing out here."

she could only laugh before hooking her arm around his and guiding him to the nearest convenience store to warm up.

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 193,093 others

yourusername hi everyone, i've finally decided to unprivate my instagram due to popular request. me and max are very much having such a fun time holiday-ing in asia! thank you for supporting max through his formula one journey and i hope you will continue to support him as he retires and moves onto new things <3 tagged maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: The third picture basically sums up how much I love you. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: oh stop it.

maxverstappen1: You love me, don't deny it. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: that i do :D

user21: OH MY GOD SHE IS SOOOO PRETTY? liked by creator ♡

user22: better than my expectations, she blew it out of the park.

alexandrasaintmleux: finally the world sees what i see every week! you are such a gorgeous girl, i'm so happy max has you as his girlfriend. liked by creator ♡

yourusername: oh stop it, you are too sweet alex <3

user23: SO UR SAYING U'VE BEEN SEEING THIS EVERY WEEKEND WHILE WE'RE STARVING?

user24: oh my goodness, you look beautiful liked by creator ♡

fransisca.c.gomes: lovely girl! hope you're having fun touring around in asia!! liked by creator ♡

yourusername: thanks so much kika!

lilymhe: omg you should come visit me and alex in thailand! the food is superrrr good here liked by creator ♡

yourusername: we'll stop by once we reach south east asia!! i promise!!

PARIS, FRANCE.

max had planned everything out, once they finished their tour around asia, he would fly her out to paris to finally propose to her. he had it planned for months now, he didn't want to ruin this. he wanted this to be perfect so he had both sides of the family be there to celebrate the occasion.

he had always dreamt about proposing to her in paris ever since their first trip when she first came back to europe, he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, it was crucial to his well-being that she was going to be there for the rest of his life or else he might throw a tantrum (he says he's joking but i bet he will).

max had been in contact with her mother, planning it to her expectations, making sure that every single detail was in place and nothing was going wrong.

his heart was beating out of his chest when they boarded the jet to go back to 'monaco', she absolutely had no idea and he needed this to go perfectly or he might have a heart attack.

getting settled in the plane was easy for her, it was second nature at this point by how much they were traveling. she would always ask the cost to max but he would avoid the question and tell her that it doesn't matter what the cost is, as long as she's happy.

she would roll her eyes and blow him a raspberry at the response.

"you are such a child, schatje," max would laugh but she just pouted and looked the other way, not wanting to see his face while he teased her. it was annoying, but she loved him either way.

she had fallen asleep in his arms halfway through the flight and max thought that this would be a perfect opportunity for him to surprise her.

she was confused at first when she arrived in paris, she did remember correctly that max had told her that they would be going back to monaco in order to wind down and just relax after the long year of the two of them traveling around the world to chase races.

but what confused her even more was the blindfold, what the hell was max planning?

max had a grin on his face the entire time, he felt giddy even though he was the one proposing. he just couldn't wait to see the look on her face when her blindfold was off.

"so what are we doing in paris again, liefje?" she had asked but max could only laugh in response, he didn't want to reveal whatever he had planned, so he simply just told her that it was a surprise and she would know once she got there.

he had booked out an entire restaurant, wanting this to be a private event just for friends and family. they were arriving soon, and soon enough, they were setting foot into the outdoor part of the restaurant.

"keep your blindfold on until i say so, okay schatje?" max had told her and she nodded in response, all of their friends and family were in attendance, watching quietly as max got into position. he had ordered the words "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" in big bold letters filled with peonies, her favorite.

and in the middle was him, holding out a little ring box while being on one knee, "okay my love, take off your blindfold."

a gasp escapes her lips when she sees what's in front of her, realizing that this was indeed a proposal, tears quickly pricked her eyes as she saw max kneeling on one knee, "hi schatje, we've been best friends for our entire lives, and i want to ask you to be my best friend forever. our lives have been filled with ups and downs and i want you to be there for every up and for every down in my life. so what do you say, schatje? will you marry me?"

a sob sounded out from her as she covered her mouth, tears spilled out freely before she choked out a 'yes, of course i will marry you max verstappen'.

max came up to hug her as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause from behind them which scared her, she cried even more when she realized how much thought was put into this surprise, all of her family and friends were there, celebrating their engagement together.

"oh my god, you did all this for me?" she sobbed into max's embrace before he chuckled and nodded, he wanted this day to be so special.

the couple shared a loving kiss before greeting the crowd.

taglist > @seonghwaexile @dying-inside-but-its-classy @angstynasty thank you so much for the support on the first part, i absolutely adore every single one of you guys <3

[maxlarens]

⭐️ - Max - prompt: I will ease your mind (from bridge over troubled water) please thank you 🫶🏻 ily darling

You’re fine. It’s Friday. You’re fine.

You’ve got an afternoon and two whole days of being able to pretend your job doesn’t exist. To bury your work phone at the bottom of your handbag and only fish it out Monday morning. To get the tube home, go straight to bed and fall asleep without dinner—

fuck. Shit.

You’re meant to be getting dinner with Max.

That’s why you wore the cute (but still work appropriate) outfit today. The slightly nicer shoes. Your hair is even done. But you’re already on public transport going the opposite way to where dinner is supposed to be. You’re exhausted, you’re sinking into the seat like it’ll swallow you whole. Like if you try hard enough you could teleport straight to your bed.

You sigh, you fish your (non-work) phone out of your bag.

It only rings once before Max has already picked up.

“Schat,” he breathes, worried, like something might have happened to you, “What is it?”

You’re shaking your head, “Nothing. Nothing. Except I got on the tube home, instead of to dinner. It’s— hmm— it’s been a long day. To say the least.”

You hear a noise from him, a contemplative hum, the scrape of a chair, “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I—”, you frown glancing at a map of the stops, trying to puzzle through your memory, “Like halfway to my apartment… I dunno though, Maxie. I’m wiped. I won’t be any fun at dinner.”

You hear footsteps echoing, “You don’t have to be fun for me”, then, “Get off the train, schat. I’ll take you home.”

You hum, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m already in my car.”

Max picks you up on the side of the road by the train station ten minutes later. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, lean over the dash and kiss him. He mumbles a sweet hello against your mouth, his hand hovering at your jaw, drifting into your hair. After the kiss is finished you press your forehead into his cheek and sigh. A prolonged tired thing.

“Work bad?”, he asks, hand gently cradling the back of your neck now.

“Awful,” you breathe, “So bad.”

“Mm,” he strokes the skin on your neck, “Let me take you home, liefje. We’ll order your favourite.”

“Please,” you murmur, “Can we watch Tangled too?”

Max snickers a little into your hair, “Whatever you want.”

You pull yourself from his grip, kissing his cheek before settling into the passenger seat. It’s not a long drive home, but as it goes on you feel the exhaustion sinking deep into your bones. The work day wearing on you even more now that it’s over. Max can see it on you, the way your thoughts are still fumbling through the issues of the day, the things you’ll have to deal with come Monday.

You’re distracted on the elevator ride to your floor, while you fish your keys from your bag, even as you flick the lights on by the door and set your bag on the kitchen counter. Max trails behind you, crowding you in the kitchen. He puts his arms around you, puts his nose into your shoulder. Kisses the junction of your neck.

“You should quit,” he says, quiet, low— you feel something skitter down into your gut as you lean back into him, “Move in with me and the cats. They love you.”

“Yeah,” you say, fishing for something else, “Do they?”

“Of course, schat,” his breath fans against your ear, “and so do I.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ohhhhh to have someone tell u to quit your job so they can take care of u. anyway i hope this is kinda what u had in mind🥰 also tangled like is the ultimate comfort movie for me

send me a prompt/request + a driver and i’ll write a drabble. pls check my requests are open first💖

[naanima]

I wrote this in between RL commitments and 3 in the morning. I haven't done any editing. So sorry for the mistakes. Will edit later and probably post to AO3 sometime later this week. My grasp on soft Max is just not as strong as my grasp of Daniel's character.

Over 900 words.

Max after receiving Daniel's message congratulating him on his 4th WDC win. Maxiel. Soft and squishy.

Lovely

He rewatched the video later that night, alone in his hotel room. Well, he rewatched all the parts with Daniel in it.

Daniel's hair was longer, the curls escaping from under his cap and flicking everywhere at the side and back of his head. He was rugged up in what looked like a very soft and warm hoodie, probably one of his Enchanté ones. He looked soft, comfortable, and happy. It was a private message sent with the knowledge that it could potentially become public. Daniel had used his real voice, the voice he spoke in when he wasn't in front of a camera or trying to Danny Ric. His voice was lower, and his accent flatter, less Australian, evened out by touches of Europe.

It was the voice Daniel used with Max when the cameras weren't on. When he was too tired, when he was comfortable, when he felt safe.

Daniel looked so happy. And so lovely.

Max has always thought Daniel was lovely. And not just physically, though Daniel was that too. His large smile and soft brown eyes had caught Max's attention first, and then everything else about Daniel drew Max to the man like a moth to the flame.

Max spent years being allowed to touch Daniel whenever he wanted, a hand on his shoulder or neck to get his attention, an embrace to show their exuberance, and a jokey touch of thighs, and so much more. And when Daniel left, Max had thought he couldn't touch him anymore.

But that didn't last, Daniel had all but tore down those thoughts the first time they saw each other after he left Red Bull. He had greeted Max with a tight hard embrace and a sincere whisper into his ear.

"I missed you, Maxy."

And Max had clung back, and never let go.

Daniel on the screen was happy for Max. For Max's fourth WDC. Daniel was always happy for Max's successes, he had always found Max after a win, a tight hug and words of congratulations, had kept at it even when he wasn't on the grid, sent him texts and voicemails telling him how happy he was for Max, how amazing he was. And Max had saved every single message from Daniel, and would look over them whenever the need to bask in Daniel's overwhelmed him.

And Daniel had sent him a message to Max after his fourth WDC win via Red Bull PR. Even when Max knew Daniel had cut all contact with Red Bull. But for Max, well, Max was always the exception to Daniel, as it was the same for Max.

Daniel was Daniel. Daniel was Max’s exception. Daniel was the man who had seemed larger than life to a young Max, someone who had taken in all of Max’s sharp edges, and instead of running the other way, he had smiled his beautiful smile, swung his arm around his shoulders, and looked down at Max with so much warmth and confidence.

“You and me Maxy, we are gonna fuck shit up.”

And Max believed him, and Daniel had never broken that trust in all the years since.

Max rewatched the video one more time, let Daniel's voice wash over him, let his smile warm the gaps inside of himself, and then he smiled.

It was never in any doubt really.

Max had made his decision about Daniel the first time they met, the seed of what he felt planted when Daniel had sent him that first video to congratulate him on getting his super licence. He had just been waiting for Daniel to arrive at the same point as him. But maybe Daniel had already crossed the finishing line without Max realising it.

Max picked up his phone, scrolled through his contact list and hit Daniel's name.

Daniel picked up straight away but didn't say anything. Max could hear his soft breathing over the line. And every part of Max relaxed, letting the sound of Daniel's breathing sink into his bones.

A small laugh came through the line. And Max found himself smiling hopelessly fond.

“Maxy,” Daniel sing-songed across the line.

“Hello Daniel.” Max’s voice was soft, unable to contain the tenderness that welled up in him. “Daniel, I received your message.”

“Yeah? Did you cry?” Daniel asked, a hint of uncertainty. And Max couldn't have Daniel doubting how much his message, his sincerity meant to Max.

“I did not cry. But it was very nice.”

Daniel hummed softly, a question in the sound. And Max felt all soft and fond.

“Daniel, it was lovely.”

“Oh.” Daniel sounded surprised. “I - well, I'm an awesome person. Beautiful and smart, and just fucking aces.” And Daniel was joking, avoiding the naked truth in Max’s voice.

Daniel was the bravest person Max had ever known, but had so many fears because he didn't want to be hurt.

Max would never hurt Daniel on purpose, would try to curb all the accidental ways that he could hurt Daniel.

“Daniel, you are of course fucking aces.” Daniel laughed softly. Max felt a soft ache in his heart.

“The message was lovely, but what I also wanted to say was that Daniel, you are lovely. You have always been lovely to me.”

A soft gasp, and silence. But Daniel did not hung up.

Max waited. He trusted Daniel, and Daniel has never broken that trust.

“Max.” A shuddery breath, and then a long inhale. “Max, you are lovely too.”

Max smiled, and let the soft fondness, the certain love he has carried for years flow over him.

[astonmartinii]

can i pls request an insta au for max verstappen where the reader is a professor??

teacher's pet | max verstappen instagram au

pairing: max verstappen x professor!reader

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 708,563 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: happy national teacher's day! while we say a big thank you to all the teachers around the world we give a big shout out to our very own professor y/n who finally taught max something other than racing and the world map.

view all 27,056 comments

user12 omg this is so cute

maxybaby i wish we got to see more of y/n in the paddock but i get why we don't

danielricciardo happy national teacher's day y/n - i've got an apple with your name on it for the next time i see you

maxverstappen1 suck up

yourusername don't be mean maxy

user77 y/n breaking up fights in the comment section i can't

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 708,456 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy national teacher's day my love !! i know how hard you work everyday, so i wanted to help out where i could (also these textbooks are unreasonably expensive)

view all 34,023 comments

yourusername thank you so much maxy - we're all so grateful xx

yourstudent1 you're all of our sugar daddy now

yourusername lets not make it weird

user23 max's relationship with y/n has been the best pr red bull could've ever asked for

georgerussell63 and they call me the teacher's pet

user14 LMAO GEORGE

pierregasly not on the wholesome post bro

christianhorner geri and the kids would like to know when you're next over for dinner?

yourusername easter is good for us !

user3 not them making plans in the comments

yourusername added to their story

[caption: weekends off with you]

danielricciardo added to their story

[caption: when did air max become a school bus?]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 103,899 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: end of semester trip to zandvoort !! these guys annoyed me all term but in the end they deserve everything - plus points for max winning his home race xx

view all 11,067 comments

maxverstappen1 i don't know what you mean about them being annoying - they were angels, i do wonder where all of my champagne went though ?

yourusername they're students they'll take any free alcohol they can get

yourstudent1 love you max - can you pay off my student loans?

yourstudent2 and mine?

yourstudent3 and mine?

yourstudent4 and mine?

yourusername he didn't even pay off mine he's not going to pay off yours and STOP TRYING TO MAKE MY BOYFRIEND YOUR SUGAR DADDY

user46 wtf is happening in this comment section

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: max u can have ur phone back if you pay off our loans]

yourusername added to their story

[caption: i'm never taking them anywhere ever again]

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,012,451 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy anniversary my love - you're a massive inspiration to me and keep me going despite being so busy yourself, you have so much knowledge and love and patience (your students are insane) xx

view all 31,067 comments

yourusername i love you maxy xx

danielricciardo haps anniversary you two - double date soon?

yourusername done.

maxverstappen1 done.

redbullracing congrats parents

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourstudent1 and 108,675 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: happy graduation to my class !! you guys have given me hundreds of grey hairs, sleepless nights and a coffee addicition, HOWEVER, i'm so so proud of all of you and can't wait to see what you do in the future (stop asking my boyfriend to pay off your loans)

view all 13,451 comments

yourstudent1 i miss you already :(

maxverstappen1 was an honour to help give out degrees to the inspiring (and annoying) next generation

yourusername thank you maxy

danielricciardo so like when are you proposing?

charles_leclerc did you just spoil her own proposal?

maxverstappen1 ur so dumb i can't

yourusername added to their story

[caption: sunset walks]

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,430,788 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: max verstappen-y/n and professor y/n verstappen-y/ln reporting for duty

view all 102,098 comments

yourusername love you so so much

user45 OMG PARENTS

yourstudent1 do we get to come to the wedding?

danielricciardo CONGRATS MAXY ONLY TOOK YOU 6 YEARS

christianhorner congratulations you two - christian, geri and the kids xx

note: hope you enjoyed - i took a lot of creative liberty so i hope it's okay xx

[leggerefiore]

could you maybe do hcs for poke villains with an s/o whose love language is physical touch?? preferably fluff but i would not mind light angst regarding a few who would reject it at first but learn to love it :3

(not even arceus, creator of the universe, could pry me away from cyrus’ thick ass arms. i need to sink my teeth into him RAHGHGHSAG)

maybe part 2 eventually with volo, lys, gio, and colress

cw: fluff

characters: Cyrus, Guzma, Archie, Maxie

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He struggles. Touch is not his forte. There is an urge to keep a distance from everything. You clinging to him makes him nervous. The physical closeness feels like a boundary he struggles to surmount. Gifts seem to be where his love language mostly lies, and physical touch is what he most avoids. Cyrus never grew up with it. His family was never the type to give comforting words or any kind of touch… He genuinely tenses up at first when you embrace him. It is all so foreign, and his mind simply feels frozen. Any gentle caress or hold is simply too much. He needs to be freed and given ten minutes alone to process everything. Then, he needs to remain untouched for another hour to reset. It is a difficult time getting him adjusted, needless to say. But, he does. He shifts to accept the touches for longer periods of time.

☄️ Slowly yet not so steadily, he becomes accepting. Alas, there will remain little reciprocation from him. While you may cling to him for long periods of time, he still prefers that it remain during private times. Any kind of touch in public will almost always be rejected outside of a quick kiss or hug. His image is something that he feels must be preserved. And, in private, he still battles with his complicated feelings about touch. While he understands what you prefer, his body physically freezes and hesitance claims his muscles. There is no harm meant by it, and a part of him slowly does come to enjoy the feeling of your embrace during longer cuddle sessions or a peck to his lips or cheek as a greeting. That part begins to crave it, even. He feels lost as to what is going on with him.

☄️ Perhaps, one day, he will overcome the mental boundaries that prevent him from coming to accepting this. When he gets over everything related to his madness and rejection of feelings, he may find himself wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your nape, letting out a contented hum. Or even initiating the greeting kiss instead of waiting on your lead. Maybe, even, those late night cuddles his body craves and unconsciously initiates will finally be done openly in the evening rather than slowly overnight. The physical closeness of your body allowing his mind a rare of kind peace that he cannot believe he denied himself for so long. But… It will be a rocky road to get there.

💀Guzma🕶

□ He is touched-starved. Guzma's parents were not the most affectionate, and Team Skull is not exactly a place where you just find a cuddle buddy. Well, not for Guzma. Part of him is relieved that you seem more than giddy to wrap him in an embrace and just cling to him, and another part wonders if he really deserves it. A good for nothing… Maybe there was a nice bone in his body because he does worry about your choice in him as a boyfriend. But, when you smiled up at him, those feelings disappeared. Whatever his shitty old man used to say did not matter – You loved him despite his flaws and showed it almost constantly. Those dark thoughts faded. Your opinion was the only one that mattered.

□ He struggles a bit in public, wanting to keep up his tough appearance. There is a strange thought that he might lose his edge if he has you clinging to his side. He understands your preference in showing love, and he accepts it – but, being intimidating is an important part of his image. Though, there is something funny about his beating someone down speech while his partner clings to one of his arms. It adds to it, actually. His grunts at least say it does. Guzma believes it, too. (Kukui gives a good laugh at it and is happy his old friend found a partner for himself. He thinks it is a good balance for him.)

□ Ultimately, physical touch becomes his main method of affection, too. Guzma loves to pull you into a hug and rest his head on your own. Having you close to him reassures whatever unwanted thoughts enter his head or just reminds him that you are close to him and that your support is always there. Anything you want to give him is eagerly accepted, too. He loves anything you are willing to give him. Hugs are a favourite, though. Kisses are second… They are nice but sometimes feel too intimate for whatever you might be doing. Kisses are a common greeting between you both, usually ending up bringing multiple to different areas. His favourite of all has to be you napping on him, though. Something about seeing you sleeping on him feeds his ego in all the right ways.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 He struggles. Maxie genuinely does. Everything he does is so structured and guided that even something as simple as your preference for giving affection gives him pause. What example would that set for him as a leader? You cannot just cling to him whenever you feel like. There were rules to these things, right? Especially in public… His mind races at the most simple of touches from you. He was given adequate affection growing up, but… Rules. He struggles to find a good way to accommodate your needs.

🪨 Public touching seems completely impossible with him. Even just holding his hand results in him pulling away and trying to pretend that he did not notice or react. It may hurt, but it is something that you will have to work him on. Maxie does apologise when you are both alone and attempts to explain his actions, so you do not think they were done in malice or rejection. He does wish that this pressure was not on him, but he really does think that his example is most important. It is difficult to sway him away from that line of thought. He does feel bad about rejecting you just showing your love so frequently.

🪨 In private, he seems like an entirely different person. Any kind of touch is accepted with pleasure and whatever tense air that surrounds him is completely gone. Cuddling is a common way to spend time together – Maxie simply adoring the warmth that the shared contact brings. Kisses are common, too. Mostly quick pecks to the cheek, but he allows a kiss to the lips all the same. He initiates fairly often, too. In truth, Maxis adores the warmth generated from physical touch. It is a nice comfort on his stressed mind, and he finally can let go of all his stiffness. Your way of showing affection is adored by him in secret. He will never let it break his stern facade, but, well, when you are alone with him, you will know.

🌧Archie🌊

💧 He loves it. Archie simply cannot get enough. The pirate is exactly the same way, so he is glad you feel just the same as him. Physical touch is the best way to show love, right? Letting yourself be so open and vulnerable with another is a special thing… Not to mention the endorphins! He is ready to let you do anything and everything with him. His family was pretty much all like him, so it was really no surprise he brought the same energy out himself. A guffaw can only leave him when you sneak a tentative touch, and he turns around and deepens it. You might meet your match in him.

💧 He loves doing things in public. Why should he hide anything? The whole world should know how much you two love each other! Kisses are shared whenever you and he want to, and public cuddles are not a common sight around Lilycove or the Aqua hideout. If anyone comments on it, they get a glare. Why does it bother them? He does not really care – All that matters is that you are happy. He loves making you grin whenever you come in to hug him or kiss him or even just hold his hand. There is a certain pride he gets in knowing that he meets your needs so well. You really seem almost made for each other.

💧 In private, everything is cranked up to ten. He loves for you to just sit in his lap and have your arms wrapped around his neck while you both just relax from whatever was happening in your day. Kisses are longer and perhaps a little more passionate – something he does actually draw the line at in public just a tad. He loves catching you from behind and pulling you into a hug, or you even doing the same to him. There is probably very little time you two spend apart from each other at home. Cuddling when in bed is a must, too. He loves holding you close to him like a plush toy. Really, he is the best partner for someone inclined towards physical touch.

[pixelplayground]

PXL'S Anatomy of Screenshots

So you want to take better screenshots? There are multiple factors to consider, and if you don't enjoy tweaking reshade settings for every image, my ultimate method may not be for you. That being said, there are tips and resources in this guide that are applicable to everyone and you can select to explore those that are useful to your specific situation.

Disclaimer: I am not claiming to be an expert, nor am I offering to provide troubleshooting on an individual basis. This is a general guide and if you are unfamiliar with any of the concepts, please use the mighty power of the internet to find tutorials. I promise everything that I have learned over the years has been published and documented a thousand times better than I ever could.

There are five factors to address:

Your computer's inherent capabilities

The game's limitations

The mods you're using

Reshade

Post Processing

Graphics Card Settings & Drivers:

Become familiar with your graphic options. If you don't have a dedicated graphics card (i.e. a desktop or gaming laptop, these features may be unavailable and you should skip.)

I have an AMD Radeon Pro card which is designed for workstation level systems. It's overkill for sims, but useful for 3D rendering and modelling work. I have changed the following settings for DirectX 9 applications:

anti-aliasing - enhance application settings

anisotropic filtering - enabled

anisotropic filtering level - 16x

texture filtering quality - high

surface format optimization - high

Consider overclocking your graphics card to unlock it's full potential. DO NOT pursue this venture unless you are ok with the risk of burning out your card prematurely. I use at present, overclocked Bootcamp Drivers from BootcampDrivers.com obviously, if you're not playing on an intel based mac through Bootcamp, this is irrelevant to you.

None of these settings are useful until you address the default games limitations, which leads nicely into the next factor.

Addressing The Sims 4's Graphic Limitations:

Everyone should be familiar at this point with lighting mods, 4k, textures, disabling ssao, etc. but, I'm still going to spell it out. None of this is new information and has been covered many a time by various players ad nauseum.

remove ugly blue toned lighting in the world by choosing a lighting mod from @softerhaze here

overhaul your graphics.cfg file (i use a custom blend with features specific to me), however @simp4sims has done a ridiculous amount of work in providing a simple to install file that can be found here - read through their tutorials!! they have provided an excellent oversight of exactly what this does and why it matters

improve the indoor lighting for your sims - previously i used @luumia's no blu, no glo - recently i switched to @northernsiberiawinds better in game lighting mod here, though i have tweaked some of the settings to suit my own personal preferences

i don't use the HQ mod, i don't find that it makes enough difference for the amount of effort it requires to convert CAS CC

It should go without saying, but tweaking your graphics config file is absolutely useless if you can't play TS4 at it's maximum in game graphic settings!

The Mods You're Using:

Now that you've put in all this work into getting the game ready to make use of quality mods where do you start? Well, the CC you install matters. Whatever your preference, whether it be maxis-match, alpha or somewhere in between, priority should be given to using items textured in 2k or 4k resolutions, and specific attention should be paid to using wall and flooring textures with bump maps, and or high quality resolutions (this is important later for reshade if you intend to learn about ray tracing).

I will separately post a guide to creators with crispy textures because that is it's own novel.

Reshade:

Phew. Still with me?

There are many many many reshade presets out there, most are alike, but none employ ray tracing, and that is because a) it needs to be manually adjusted for every screenshot, b) they are paid shaders, and c) this requires advanced knowledge of reshade and a decent enough graphics set up that won't overheat - games running native ray tracing recommend a minimum VRAM of 8GB (please note RAM and VRAM are not the same) - i therefore do not recommend pursuing this option if your system does not meet those minimum requirements.

Start here to understand what ray tracing for reshade is. In my opinion, the shaders are well worth the price of $5 for the amount of work that has gone into creating them by the talented Pascal Gilcher. That link is a comprehensive starting point into expanding your knowledge of reshade and it's capabilities.

I have always created my own reshade presets from scratch, and while the core colorization settings I utilize remain largely the same, using ray tracing and re-light means every screenshot needs to be manually adjusted (lights repositioned, bounce and AO factors adjusted, etc) before being captured. @pictureamoebae just published a very timely post discussing the re-light shader and you can read it here.

Post Processing

Reshade does 99.99% of the work that traditionally would be accomplished in a photo editing software like photoshop. Occasionally, I need to adjust exposure manually, add depth of field manually, or color correct. Beyond that I use it to scale images to fit the resolution and file size limits of various platforms. Conceptually this reduces the amount of uncontrolled loss encountered when platforms like tumblr auto compress files that are too large. In reality, tumblr still makes images crappy compared to how they appear in my file folder.

optimize your images for various social media platforms using this guide

fix exposure or colorization issues using a software like photoshop

I hope that this gives you a starting point into expanding your methodologies. My process is continuously evolving and I find this aspect of the game most entertaining. For others who don't enjoy this process, it's probably not worth it!

Thanks for reading ❤ PXL

[mothlau]

Hello 👋 for the kink game, what would you think of number 5 and 29 for leztappen please? Have a good day 🧡

hiiiii, sorry for the wait my love!! have some virgin gp!max and some slightly unhinged charles:3 kink meme here

621 words

Charles wishes she could always have Max like this, crying and begging above her, cock barely touching Charles’ cunt. She's been teasing the blonde for hours now, first by touching her lightly, fingers caressing Max's arms, down her neck, over her thighs, then by taking a seat on her lap and grinding down, to make myself more comfortable, Maxie.

She wanted to make it good for Max, her first time, her first proper time, with a partner that loves her. But there's something about dangling the fruit in front of Max's face and seeing how she gets cross-eyed with wanting.

Max took it in stride, though. She took all of Charles' relentless teasing and let it get to her, quiet and pliant, face slightly pink, pupils dilated. Charles loves her, she truly does; loves her like this, barely able to hold herself back from thrusting in, loves her as she was seconds ago, face wet with Charles’ slick, loves her as she will be once she gets to finally push in, to be where she most desires.

Now, however, Charles feels dizzy with the amount of adoration that's surging through her. She feels on top of the world, as if she alone could rule it from where she is, just under Max’s weight.

“Baby,” Max whines, the head of her throbbing cock pushing against Charles’ wet folds. “Baby, please let me fuck you, please! I– I want to be inside you so bad–”

Charles' pussy leaks against Max's dick and she wants it just as bad, if not worse. She's awfully empty, without Max filling her up, but she knows it will be worth it, for both of them, when Max slides in.

After all, she can feel herself making a mess down her thighs, making a mess of Max's cock. The wet of it will make it easy, and she needs it easy with how big Max is. The stretch will make it burn, Charles can already imagine how sore she will be after Max is done with her.

“Baby, please, please, please let me fuck you– Been so good for you, please–”

And that's true, Max has been nothing but patient as Charles took everything she wanted from her. But still, she smirks up at her pathetic lover and grinds down on her dick, just moves her hips so that she can feel some of the precum spurt over her clit.

Except it's not pre that Max shoots out. She's moaning above her and shaking from how unexpected the orgasm was, and she's pushing inside Charles because the warmth is all she wants and Charles can't blame her. She can't scold her for wasting the cum that was meant to fill her up, because she is not done with her handsome boy. She needs to fuck her stupid.

Charles reaches between their bodies, fingers gathering some of the semen. The pearly white looks beautiful against her red nails and she wants more, all of it, until she's swollen and her stomach is round with it.

Charles brings her hand to Max's lips.

Of course she opens them without a thought, eyes hazy and cloudy with unshed tears. The overstimulation must be getting to her, but Max has never been inside a pussy before, so Charles can only imagine how dumb she must be getting from the sensation.

The cum mixes with some of Charles' slick that has yet to dry, and the brunette drags her fingers until Max's lips are painted in it. Until the freckle above her lip is covered and all she wants to do is lick it clean.

Charles moves upwards and does just that, pussy tightening against the softening cock inside her, milking it dry.

[f1amboyant]

Omg, I wasn't expecting to elaborate on this but you know what, I will bc it makes me happy and I am not confident or secure enough to write something long but I still want to share.

About everyone's colors:

-Ferrari: Rosso corsa for Charles and bright yellow gold for Carlos

-Mercedes: royal purple for Lewis and turquoise for George

-RB: burnt orange for Maxy and forest green for Checo

-McLaren: soft orange for Lando and periwinkle for Oscar

-Aston: sky blue for Fernando and cooper for Lance

-Williams: lavender for Alex, cherry red for Logan and sunshine yellow for Franco

-Haas: ochre for Nico and ice blue for Kevin

-Alpine: navy blue for Pierre and blush pink for Esteban (he swears it's beige for years)

-VCarb: warm orange for Yuki, pistachio for Liam and mahogany brown for Dan

-Stake: dove grey for Guanyu and coral for Valtteri

-Other important colors (?): silver for Nico Rosberg, emerald green for Seb, garnet for Kimi, steel grey for Toto, teddy bear brown for Ollie, sage green for Kimi Antonelli, petrol blue for Mark Webber, brass for Jenson.

Source? Just vibes really.

Some drivers are sure to wear long sleeves and be careful of being to close to fans but Carlos is of the opposite view, hundreds of centimeters of skin showing and a belief that if you get a new soulmates, it was meant to be and it drives Charles nuts even though it has never happened and Carlos has only bonded with people who are indeed close to him. In one occasion he takes pleasure in seeing how a pretty girl at a club who has been flirting with Carlos (who is oblivious and a little tipsy) all night gets mad when she grabs Carlos' forearm and nothing happens, not a bit of pigment on sight so obviously Charles has to go get his teammate and holding him by the point where he KNOWS his red mark is under the fine linen shirt make sure he makes it back to the hotel 🫣

Thank you everyone for the encouragement, I'll keep you posted 🥰🎨

Asdkjhgdjkhglq that's amazing!

No note on the color choices for each driver. I could never have done it myself and I love them all! Perfect 🎨

And jealous possessive Charles?? Yes please, I need more of that. Oh Carlos would be absolutely oblivious (he always looks so lost when he is with fan, he would absolutely be lost about this too). And Charles putting his hand back where his mark is on Carlos?? Daaaaaamn 😵‍💫 I love it so much!!!

But now tell me anon (if you want to, of course), this is charlos, right? So how do those two idiots go from 'oh yeah we have each other's mark but that's because we're teammates, no?' to 'together or nothing, we are real soulmates'? Do you have ideas? I need my babies together 🥺

[luthsthings]

Sims 4 x 10 Years!

Ten years ago today, I booked the day off on my work schedule and played a lot of Sims 4.

I'd been a Simmer since 2000, after one of my kids asked for the game because they'd seen it at a friend's house. I played The Sims, and then Sims 2, and then Sims 3. Sims 3 and my computer didn't get on too well, and I fought it a lot, wanting to play rotationally as a micromanager! When the Sims 4 trailers started coming out, I felt like they'd finally made a version of the game that was really for me, as a micromanaging rotational player who doesn't want to restart for new packs and new worlds, and who likes some quirk and exaggeration.  

So on September 2, 2014, I installed Sims 4. (I'd preordered, of course!) I downloaded trailer Sims from the Gallery (I still have a soft spot for Amber -- in one of my saves, back around 2015, she married Elvis Presley). I giggled at Sims sticking their fingers in their ear while they cooked. I got annoyed by the push-ups. I completely failed at making a roof. A Sim read a book while on the toilet and I was delighted. I took my Willow Creek Sim to visit the bar in Oasis Springs and enjoyed the view there (I like the dinos).

I made a self-Sim and spent lots of time tweaking her face till my husband came into the room, glanced at my monitor, and said, "Hey, that's actually you!" She's still my self-Sim (over on my avatar there). I just update her look now and then as I update my own.

I had a lot of fun, and I found myself using Sims as a new creative outlet in ways I hadn't so much before. I felt creative.

Eventually I confessed to my daughter that I'd actually played with my self-Sim. Here she is as a scientist back in 2015. Once upon a time, in an earlier version of the game, we -- me and my kids -- were playing with "us" in game and I died in a model rocket accident. This was traumatic and I was not supposed to play with "us" anymore. This time I did not die.

And here I am still playing! (But my hair went white.) I've had three-day saves and seven-year saves (RIP that save!). I've played every pack, but there are still base game things I haven't done! Sometimes I get really caught up in too much micromanaging with the game (townies really do often need fixing), then a new pack comes out and I try new things and it's a lot of fun again. It makes me laugh.

I've also made new friends in Sims communities and helped lots of Simmers keep playing the game. I started doing that back in 2014. A lot of the Sims community back then was focusing on what was bad about Sims 4. I was having fun with it, though, and enjoyed helping other people on the Forums who just wanted to do that.

That just kind of... morphed. It turned into some Forums posts gathering scattered info about upcoming packs from the various places SimGurus were saying things (I stopped doing those a couple of years ago -- there are websites gathering that info now, and a lot less places it turns up too). It turned into threads gathering info about mods that got broken in big game patches... and that was way back in 2015! I'm delighted that it turned into a whole thing in the community, with different places providing the info different ways. Getting to know the modding community after starting that has been a lot of fun. I even brushed off my old programming knowledge from high school and took over some mods from a modder I'd gotten to know well. I do like the lack of punch cards in modern programming!

I'm also super thankful to EA and Maxis for inviting me some years ago to be a Game Changer (the program that morphed into the EA Creator Network). I love the connections I have with other creators and storytellers and support people in the EACN, even if I feel really tiny next to the big names with their thousands and thousands of followers (but a quick thank you to my little group of Patrons! I appreciate you a ton!). I am also very appreciative of the gifted packs from EA that I receive as part of the EACN. They've helped make it a little bit easier to volunteer my time to supporting other Simmers, even if I do now have to put disclaimers on gameplay content I post, which sometimes feels a bit silly.

tldr: Happy 10th Birthday, Sims 4! I hope it's a fabulous one.

And now I'm going to grab some lunch, do some chores, then dive back into my current save. Cassandra has two love interests to consider, and that jewel is charging up. Plus she really needs a cat. And some actual income. And some improvements in her spellcasting (my previous save's Cassandra was a Mermaid). And that's not to start on Alexander building some skills before he heads off to uni for Robotics...

Psst... 

Don't forget to mark on your calendar the next anniversary. The Sims franchise will be 25 on February 4, 2025! 

[baronessvonglitter]

Wip Weekend

I have a lot of plates spinning right now, and I hope to have a couple of these done within the week 🤞🏽

First up I have the beginning of "The Girlfriend Experience" where reader/Angel has garnered significant success in her career.

Star of the Year Your boss's hand rests on your lower back, the heat of his palm is felt through the deep back slit of your dress. "I never had a doubt. You've been my shining star since day one," he murmurs in your ear as you gaze upon your award, your manicured finger tracing the engraved letters of your title and your name. "'Rising Star' last year, 'Star of the Year' now. How does it feel?" You take a moment to think about it because it's not an off-the-cuff question. When he asks you something, he really wants to know your answer. In the past couple years you've garnered the coveted spot within the escort agency. You've worked your way up the same as everyone else, but there's something about you that keeps your old clients coming back and the new ones intrigued.  You've serviced clients of every rank and status, from businessmen to princes in foreign lands. Even women, though being with them was so easy it rarely ever felt like work.  You've made a name for yourself, and as one of the highest grossing performers, you've earned the option to walk away right now. The money in your bank account is showing more zeroes than you've ever thought possible, and you've created the kind of life for yourself where you'll never have to worry about a thing anymore. An apartment in Paris, a brownstone in NYC, a villa in Milan, a Spanish colonial in LA.. not to mention cars you rarely need to drive because you're always being picked up and dropped off in style. You've met with movie stars, designers, everyone of importance. And you could stop working if you really want to. But you don't want to. Giving your boss a smile, you don't take your eyes from his as his hand travels from your back to your waist, gently gliding his fingers towards your breast. "It feels like I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do.. but that doesn't mean I'm done yet, Mr. Martell." He smiles, his teeth perfect and white. "Please. Call me Oberyn."

(Of course Oberyn owns an escort agency, and of course there's going to be a threesome right after this scene with him and Ellaria)

Also, "Maneater", a mini series about Maxwell Lord who's doing what he can to keep his business afloat, even if it means marrying a woman much older than him. @everybodylovedcontractors I hope you like it!

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom. "Who is it?" Maxwell asks, not wanting to be bothered just then. "Your fiancee, Linda St. James," she replies. "It sounds urgent." "Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through." "Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at my place tonight." "Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table. Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice.  Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends. "Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancee somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her." "You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up. Max hangs up with a groan of disgust. 

And some rom-com Dave, which surprised me, but I think it's really sweet. Featuring Divorce Lawyer!Dave (working on a title) but the first chapter is "Meet Cute" (will also feature Javier Pena, Tim Rockford, and maybe even Ezra..) and because I like getting ahead of myself I'm working out a spinoff rom com with Tim 👀

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day." "We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts. "I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair. There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit." Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought. "Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him. "I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person." "You don't have to do that-" "Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave. The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?" You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

And last but not least, a little stepdad!Frankie x coquette!reader I've been cooking up. Not sure if this will be separate parts yet, or one big ol' hunk of a story, but the working title is "Kitten"

Hearing his footsteps behind you, you smirk and lean against the sink, bent over at the waist. "I think something's wrong with the drain." The sight of you like that makes his pulse quicken. He has to take a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "What do you mean something's wrong with it?" He clears his throat gruffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "The water's not going down," you answer, turning around, your t-shirt wet and see-through. Frankie eyes the way it clings to your body, your tits on display, nipples visible, making his mouth water. His composure is nearly lost then and there.  "Um, I'm sure it's just.." he struggles to finish the sentence, any coherent thoughts devolving into pure instinct and desire. A bright smile graces your lips. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you can fix it. I trust you with my pipes." You move past him, lightly brushing against him as you walk to your bedroom. "I've gotta get changed. Can't believe how wet I got!"

I'm working on a couple other things as well, which I may feature next week once I have some of this out of my system.

Tagging some moots who tagged me first and/or seemed interested when I bothered them with my ideas (JK y'all are my cheerleaders)

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelalorian @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981

[stari-hun]

Under the Oak Tree has this special quality of somehow having no chemistry but having very interesting and compelling characters. It’s Riftan. Riftan is the issue. They want a historical series but they’re ignoring that the core appeal of a historical series is an easy meet cute of an arranged marriage, fancy social etiquette, and most importantly the fashion. Riftan isn’t a historical ML in the way people like it cause he’s not just a gentleman wearing historical inspired clothing and or armor, he’s genuinely a misogynist controlling man and I’m like 😭😟 spooky. It’s giving that one sentient gingerbread man book that was randomly set in like the Victorian era with an extremely abusive husband that’s NEVER warned about in most of the reviews.

Like you come into the series and see a FL who’s neglected and mistreated by her family and ur like dope, this is a trope since the founding fanfics of Wattpad. The trope is ex common but it’s like a Sold to One Direction kinda thing, it’s a core part of the history of modern writing. Angst is such a popular genre and people love whump, like it’s good. ITS COMMON BUT ITS GOOD. People love overdone tropes cause even if it’s done a lot it’s easy to do well. Under the Oak Tree does SO well with Maxi’s trauma and she feels like such a human character. But then Riftan is just like- The appeal of the whump is that someone comes in and comforts the person and saves them from their past life. Riftan fr just comes in picks her up without a word, no communication, no nothing, constantly angry at her because she’s fearful of him and had no idea about their engagement (despite knowing that her father hated him and wanted him dead, so there would’ve been no reason to give her hope that she’d be saved from her household by a man soon to die). He’s just not comforting or appealing outside of sex appeal and smut TT, like he literally isn’t around for the first like what? 80 chapters unless it’s getting mad at her, degrading her and telling her to just be a decoration, or smut. LIKE GIVE US SUBSTANCE. Than her distress with him all the time is so scary and unnerving TT , it literally feels like for the first 2 seasons that she’s literally just having a fawn response around him and that’s why she seems to handle his presence. Not to mention that entire arc where any time she’d try to talk to him and have a genuine conversation as partner, he’d just kiss her and shut her up which was SOOOO weird.

He’s just SOOOO. It’s so weird. They only seem to like being around after 100 chapters. AND EVEN THEN IN THE TRAVELING TO THE SEA ARC HES UNRIGHTFULLY RUDE RUDE TO HER. literally anyone who spent all of their time locked up inside and doing close to no movement besides walking around and collecting plants for close to a year would struggle with a journey like that. In fact Maxi was a whole trooper, I’ve spent a whole day on horseback before and I literally couldn’t walk the next day and I was aching for 2 after that.

The appeal of the angsty insecure protagonist with a past like that is that the new environment welcomes them with full acceptance and love. RIFTAN ISNT LOVING SHIT. HE LIKES THE IDEA OF MAXI AS A NOBLE LADY. Sure we’re likely gonna see a generic plotline later of ohhh I met you as a child and you changed meeeeeeee, forgive all my bad traits and how I hurt you let’s make out ~~~~ but NO???? I REFUSE TO TAKE THAT TBH. He causes her so much more distress and it feels like another “My Husband Who Hates Me Has Lost His Memories” , like just a female protagonist enduring extreme constant emotional distress and trauma at the hands of the male lead but we’re supposed to just support their romance because ohhhh he doesn’t know what he’s doing despite being a full adult with autonomy and the life exp and capabilities to understand his actionssss. Noooo support their romance even though he’s constantly putting her in bad situations and she’s never been as happy with him as she does with women she’s just met in that hour.

TLDR: I wish authors would stop being insane and making their status of in the closet everyone else’s issue in the historical genre. Like pls stop cooking up the most divine wlw then force feed us abusive comphet, I see you, please free yourself babe.

[fillingthescrapbook]

Let's Talk About: Burrow's End, Evolution, and Revolution

Welcome back, Stupendous Stoats--for one last time! And because I have a bunch of stuff that I need to do and I'm just squeezing this in, this Let's Talk About is gonna be a stream of consciousness that I write while I'm watching.

Check it out, check it out, check it out--

The caution tape ribbon on Izzy's head with the very colorful attire is giving Jojo Siwa realness.

Now that we're in the finale, I just want to point out that Aabria went full Ed Sheeran on her outfit in the last five episodes. So I want to ask any amazing artist out there… Please draw Aabria's power plant uniform with Brennan's Dungeons and Drag Queens get-up a la the Beyonce and Sheeran meme.

Siobhan wants to go full Kevin McCallister!

"…and that we should murder Phoebe." It's not a surprise, but the way Brennan said this so intensely calm gave me such whiplash. In a good way. Mommy has so much blood lust.

Is Dr. Tara Steele planning a Happy Feet situation? Filming the talking stoats like those scientists filmed the dancing penguins?

This map is truly beautiful. Truly.

Yes, Viola! Yes, Rashawn!

BRING IN THE NEW MAP!

Are those three Breaking Bad action figures?

"Carlos! What have they done to you?"

"Well this is gonna be much more fun now." AABRIA!!!

You have to kill your babies, Brennan!

"I rolled better than a Nat 1--which is a 2."

"Does a 30 hit?" "What do you think?!" Sad sigh. Perfect.

Why did Brennan make Tula so powerful? Like, in another fight where he isn't fighting his own family, this would be great. But the situation is not that!

"Shoot at me!" "I'll take the shot." "Shit."

"Don't hit it with fire! Don't hit it with water!" Aabria turned into Lucas!

"Lair action." "It's okay." "What?" "You don't have to." That was the best reaction to a DM's shenanigan.

What I want to know right now-- Is Tara's hazmat suit still broken? Because there's a lot of radiation here.

"Are you okay?" "No!!!" This is the most engaging 5e battle in Dimension 20 history outside of A Starstruck Odyssey.

"He'll cook in 40 minutes!"

Aabria has just learned the lesson Brennan had learned from giving Ally Beardsley's shenanigans a chance. If you say yes, the dice gods will give your player a Nat 20.

We did get a Happy Feet ending! This is an amazing ending! I still want a longer Aabria season on Dimension 20 though.

That said--this very lovely epilogue juxtaposed with that horrifying maxi of Phoebe-backer is also a perfect representation of Burrow's End. Although… Wait… Did we get an epilogue for Thorne? I'll have to rewatch this episode at some point. I have to dash now.

Oh, but one last thing: Brennan's "I can't wait to find out what's going to happen tomorrow" hits very differently for me, right now.

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 08 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 08

words: 10k

warnings: a lot of angst sorry. 09 will be happier if i can publish it in less than 2.5 years this time. addiction/substance abuse mentions, STI mentions

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty @someinsanefangirl @foudre-aqua @whatevs2000 @rwr-ites @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @toxicidity @malos-moving @luckyfriesss @lovecass123

"YOU SENT ASHLEY my fucking article?"

"Woah, honey, slow down," Angelica said, voice staticky through the phone, but Y/N was fuming. She was sure that everyone in the diner below her apartment could hear her yelling. "Yes, I sent it. You asked me to, last night."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "...What the hell are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "Don't tell me you've forgotten. You promised you only had two drinks."

Y/N's stomach turned. She distinctly remembered downing half the open bar at the campaign fundraiser the night prior after the way her conversation with Thomas had ended. She less-distinctly remembered Angelica driving her home -- she'd been in North Carolina on a different assignment, but it turned out the CEO she was reporting on happened to be one of Thomas's biggest donors. "Okay, so maybe I stretched the truth a little, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with everything," Angelica said flatly. "You told me to send that article to Ashley in the middle of your soliloquy about how Jefferson was ruining your life. You were rambling, but you were coherent; I wouldn't have expected you'd wake up having forgotten all of it."

The more she spoke, the more was coming back to Y/N, though. Flashes of Angelica checking her out of her hotel, driving her several hours back north to DC.

"Fuck," she finally said, palming her forehead as though it'd restore her memory. "Wait, why would I have you send it to her instead of just doing it myself?"

"I don't know," Angelica said mildly. "Maybe you were too far gone to write the email."

"You said I was coherent," Y/N replied, raising an eyebrow. "So which is it? Was I drunk beyond belief, or did I just seem a little tipsy?"

"Honey, I don't know; you were just a little out of it. And you did just tell me you’d lied to me about how much you’d had to drink." Angelica sounded exasperated, but Y/N wasn't done.

"Forward me the email you sent Ashley. I need to see when you sent it and what you said."

"Why? I—"

"Because I don't believe that I asked you to do that," she snapped, and Angelica paused for a long moment, taken aback.

"...Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I'd already decided that I wasn't going to send it," Y/N huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"And so you think I did it behind your back?"

“That’s exactly what I think.”

There was a long pause; all Y/N could hear from the other end of the line was static.

“Y/N—”

“Either forward me the email you sent Ashley, or own up to it,” she cut her off, having no desire to hear Angelica push another excuse. “Prove me wrong.”

“I can’t.” Angelica’s tone was biting, and Y/N’s scowl deepened. “I did send it, but you know what? I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘save me from myself’?” she asked incredulously. “You were the one who told me that only I could decide what I wanted to publish.”

“You spent an hour on the trip home talking about how Jefferson was ruining your life,” Angelica reminded her. “So why don’t you want that article published? Why are you trying to protect him?”

“Because even he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Why doesn’t he? He’s been ruining your career, antagonizing you on Twitter; do you even remember how worked up you were yesterday? Talk about your integrity all you want, but that doesn’t mean you have to protect him.”

“It’s not about protecting him,” Y/N defended. “It’s just what I think is right.”

“And why don’t you think this is right? That’s what I don’t get.” Angelica’s huff sent a rush of static through the phone that made Y/N wince. “Honey, this would fix all the damage he’s done to your career; isn’t it only fair that you publish? You've been drowning in bills, and I know it's taking a toll on you. You deserve the money you'll get from this. Besides, you don’t owe him anything.”

You don’t owe him anything.

Y/N couldn’t reply; Angelica’s words reverberated in her mind like an echo — they were true. She didn’t owe him anything. That was what she’d been telling herself, it was what she’d been telling everyone else, and it was what she'd spent the past night arguing with him about.

And he’d agreed. She didn’t owe him anything.

“I… I can’t have this conversation right now, Ang,” she sighed. “I know you meant well, but this wasn’t your place to get involved. Now I need to figure out what my next move is.”

“It’s too late to stop the article. Ashley already has it.” Y/N winced at her words, and Angelica continued, “If you refused to give her the sources, she’d fire you. I know this job means too much for you to just throw it away when things get hard.”

"This isn't 'things getting hard'; it's me losing the reason I wanted to be a journalist in the first place."

"And if you want to stay a journalist, you'll send Ashley the tape of your interview with Adams," Angelica said. "She can't publish without it."

“Don't act like somehow you know what's best for me, Angelica."

"It seems like I know better than you. Your finances have been the worst part of your life for years, and those are your exact words," she said, and Y/N scoffed. However, there was truth to it. "If you just waited it out and let Ashley transfer you to another department, would you even be able to pay your bills? Or would you lose your electricity? Your running water? What would you do the next time a student debt payment rolled around?"

"Well, thanks to you, now Ashley's threatening to fire me altogether.” Y/N scowled. "If I lose my income, I sure as hell won't be able to pay off my debt."

"Then follow through with the article," she urged. "You know it's what you need to do. You have to do this for yourself, Y/N. You think Jefferson's never broken his code of ethics to get ahead? Do you even think he has one?"

“Of course—” Y/N had to cut herself off. Her first instinct was to defend him, but she didn’t see any way she could convince Angelica of anything without her believing she’d been indoctrinated. “It isn’t about him. It’s about me, and it’s about my integrity. It doesn’t matter what he’s done.”

“Ashley already has the article. Don’t forget that.”

"You shouldn't have sent it in the first place,” Y/N said. “This is my job, and it's my career; you aren't allowed to make decisions like this on my behalf. At least the tape will buy me time.”

“That buys you two weeks, tops.”

“Then I’ll make the most of it.”

____________

THAT’D BEEN THE first stop on her damage control from the previous night, but she still had a long way to go. Lafayette was gracious enough to get her Dolley’s phone number; Y/N had a number of things she felt she needed to clear the air on, but her conversation with Dolley wasn’t exactly short.

Y/N spent the better part of two hours trying to convince her not to tell James what she’d heard. Apparently, she’d been holding her tongue since she walked in on them at the state dinner months before, but she felt like she’d learned too much the night prior to keep it from him.

She couldn’t tell James, though — at least, that was Y/N’s firm conviction. If she spilled everything to James, he’d have done everything in his power to keep Y/N away from their campaign. After all, since whatever there had been between her and Thomas was over, James didn’t need to worry about anyone’s conflict of interest.

Y/N’s throat tightened when she realized that.

But Dolley didn’t budge, and Y/N was ultimately forced to give up her desperate plea.

A week passed. Y/N returned to her normal schedule at the diner, and Thomas returned to avoiding those shifts whenever possible. (Although, according to Mira, he hadn't stopped by at all.) To the untrained eye, everything was business as usual; Y/N was working both her jobs, going to election events, and interviewing politicians, but to her, there was nothing usual about what she was doing.

She hardly slept that week. It wasn’t because of Thomas, she’d like to have claimed; she was just busy, balancing everything she needed done, working two jobs and trying to figure out what needed to happen for her to keep the Adams article from getting a green light. This was just how she was getting by.

So when Lafayette called her the next Friday, she almost didn’t pick up.

Or, really, she didn’t pick up until the fourth consecutive time he called.

“Hey, Lafayette.”

“What happened between you and Thomas?”

“What?” Y/N was curled up with her laptop on her couch, indulging in retail therapy against her better judgment. At his words, she furrowed her brow. Why was he bringing this up? Why would he have known? “What are you talking about?”

“Do not act as if you do not know what I am referring to,” Lafayette snapped. "He 'as not been 'imself since his fundraiser in North Carolina. So what happened?"

"I…" Y/N furrowed her brow as she processed Lafayette's words. Had he really taken it that poorly? Y/N knew he wasn't thrilled about the development between them; that much went without saying, but they both knew it was for the best. What Thomas wanted, she couldn't give him. Not then. "What d'you mean 'he hasn't been himself'? And why the hell do you think I have anything to do with it?"

“I do not know ‘ow to explain it, Y/N.” Lafayette sighed. “‘Ave you ‘eard from him recently? He 'as been… distant."

She swallowed hard at the question. "Not… not really. Why, what has he told you?"

"Nothing. And zat is exactly ze issue." His tone was short, and the words left little room for discussion. "Did you talk to him about ze article?"

"No, actually."

"...Really?" The surprise in Lafayette's voice was unmistakably genuine, and it made Y/N crease her brow.

“Yeah, um… why is that such a surprise? Did he say something?”

“No. He has ‘ardly spoken to me since ze fundraiser, and I cannot decipher why. I supposed zat something ‘ad happened between ze two of you because of your article, but…” He trailed off, and Y/N could hear in his voice just how stumped he was. “Did anything happen that night?”

“I mean, no, nothing important," she said, brow creased. "Why do you think I have something to do with this?"

“When I asked him what was wrong, ‘e told me to ask you,” Lafayette replied. "So here I am. There 'as to be something, Y/N."

“Don’t worry about it, Lafayette,” she said, rubbing her forehead as though it’d make her headache subside. “It doesn’t concern you.”

"So there is something zat you are not telling me." She winced at the accusation in his voice, but she couldn't claim that he was wrong.

"Okay, fine, but it wasn't a big deal. I swear."

“Perhaps not for you,” he countered, "but you should ‘ave seen Thomas.”

“Is he really doing that badly?” she asked hesitantly, unsure of whether she wanted to hear the answer. "Maybe he's just stressed."

“He has ‘ardly left his apartment, chérie. I went by earlier to check on him, and he would hardly speak to me. He looked like a mess.”

"What d'you mean 'looked like a mess'? Is he okay?" The question was hesitant. "He's, like, safe and everything, right?"

"Alors... he is safe, yes. But he is," --Lafayette hesitated for a long moment, and all that could be heard was static through the line-- "self-destructing, I suppose is ze term. I do not believe zat it is my place to share anything further, though."

"...Well, shit. I didn't think it was that serious."

“You did not think zat what was zat serious?" he asked, voice exasperated. "Can you not simply be forthcoming with me?"

“Nothing, like, big or tragic happened between us,” she said, and she could hear the defensive edge creeping into her own voice. “We just… talked, and we decided it was in both of our best interests to stop sleeping together. That’s all I have to tell you.”

“Zere ‘as to be more to ze story.” Lafayette’s voice, though muffled through the phone, had a stern undertone. “Please, do not withhold things. I am simply trying to help.”

“I don't know what to tell you, honestly,” she said. “What’s done is done. I can't help him anymore. He wouldn't want to see me.”

“Why did you decide to end things?” he asked. “My impression ze other day was that you were happy.”

She winced. That afternoon at Lafayette's place felt so long ago, after what'd changed. “It just had to happen.”

“Is it because you are publishing ze article?”

“I… no. It isn't.” She swallowed hard. Whether she was publishing it seemed like an extraneous detail.

“Then what happened? What did you say to ‘im?”

“I didn't say anything wrong. I've told you all that went down,” she insisted. “We just… You know we’re not in a relationship. The choice to stop all this was mutual.”

“Was it really?”

“Yes. He was the one who suggested it.” That much was true. However, she wasn’t sure how candid the suggestion had been when he initially brought it up. “Whatever's weighing on him, it has to be more than what happened with me. I don't think our conversation would've affected him all that much."

“Y/N, please, be straightforward with me. He told me to speak to you about zis." The concern in Lafayette's voice was neither light nor well-concealed. "I am worried about him. Zis is serious."

“Then I don’t know what it is,” she insisted, throwing a hand up in frustration. “I'm sorry, Lafayette. You know this wouldn't be something I'd want for him, but I can't help you.”

He sighed audibly. “I realize zat I will not be getting any more information from you, Y/N, but I am not done with trying to figure zis out.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “And I wish you the best of luck.”

____________

SHE WANTED THE weekend to herself after that. She didn't think Thomas would be taking this all so hard, but then again, she'd bottled everything up the moment she returned to D.C., pretended she'd believed every word she'd said to him, and she figured he'd do the same. It didn't seem like him to dwell.

And yet, there he was, dwelling, and so there she was, too, worrying about him. Her stomach was in knots.

Lafayette called her a number of times, sent her countless texts. He asked her to come over and talk to him about what happened, but she had no interest. He'd get nothing out of it, and she'd only feel worse. Besides, she couldn't run the risk of seeing Thomas in their building when she was there for Lafayette. He seemed to be unavoidable whenever she was there, but then again, maybe that was why Lafayette asked her over in the first place.

She called off all her shifts over the next couple of days, claiming a head cold, that she didn't want to get anyone else sick. Mira sounded skeptical, but she let her go.

Despite her reluctance to leave her apartment, though, when Dolley called and asked her to come over to talk, she was in a double bind. She hadn't told James anything yet, she said, and she wanted to hear what Y/N had to say about it all before she did. If she didn't want James to resent her until the end of time, she supposed she didn't have much of a choice. She was struggling to pinpoint why she still cared so much about his opinion of her, though.

But she thought she owed it to Thomas to try to contain the fallout.

“Hey, Dolley. Thanks for hearing me out.” She shrugged her coat off, left it on the bench beside the front door of James and Dolley’s house.

“Of course, dear. I figured it was only fair." Dolley gave her a sympathetic smile as she came to pull Y/N into a gentle hug. "Can I get you anything? I was about to make myself a cup of tea, but I could put on a pot of coffee, too, if you'd like."

"Actually, tea sounds really nice."

"Alright. You just sit tight, make yourself at home, and I'll be back in a minute."

Her mind was racing as she curled into Dolley’s couch, glancing around her house. She knew James wasn’t home, but she couldn’t help her paranoia that, somehow, he’d hear her, astral projecting from his lunch meeting into his bedroom.

But Dolley came back after putting the tea kettle on the stove, and Y/N had to get herself out of her head. She’d boiled her advocacy down into a nice, itemized list; Dolley took a seat beside her, and Y/N began giving her the hard sell.

I’ll spare you the details — after all, it’s everything you already know. You’d been there, a fly on the wall beside the hotel hot tub, and you know that Dolley telling James what she’d heard would accomplish nothing — he'd likely resent Y/N for it (not that she'd blame him; she knew the problem her relationship with Thomas presented for their campaign). However, with everything between her and Thomas having been put to an end, it'd accomplish nothing. James would have her barred from their events to prevent her from becoming a distraction, but it wouldn't change anything, by then, and only hinder her career.

And besides, she and James were friends. She didn't want the brief, silly fling she'd had with Thomas to ruin that.

She finished monologuing, and, as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the door and then back at Dolley. "Were you expecting someone?"

"I—" The tea kettle started whistling, cutting her off abruptly as she turned her head back toward the kitchen. Dolley sighed. "Oh, hell. Would you mind getting that while I get the door? I need to go see who's here."

“Yeah, sure.” She went to the kitchen as Dolley stood to get the door, and she found that Dolley had made her life fairly easy. There sat two mugs and a box of teabags on a little wooden tray, so all she did was put the little kettle on a potholder before returning to Dolley’s living room.

She couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but when she came back, she and Dolley weren’t alone.

She nearly dropped the tray.

“Thomas?”

He and Dolley both looked up from where they sat on the couch.

“Y/N.” The minute he met her eyes, she froze. Lafayette was right — he looked like hell. The bags under his eyes were deep, and he clearly hadn’t shaved in several days. His beard was growing in patchy. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I…” She was struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Dolley invited me.”

Her eyes widened as she turned. “What the hell, Dolley?”

“Oh, would you relax? You two need to talk, and you well know it,” Dolley snapped, and Y/N’s grip tightened on the handles of the tray she held. “Come here and sit down.”

“No. I...” She set the tray down on the side table nearest her, and Dolley furrowed her brow. “I'm leaving. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s nothing more to say.”

"Come on, Y/N—"

"She's right, Doll," Thomas sighed. "We already ended things."

"Please, neither of you wanted to. You're just both too stubborn to say it."

"Don't act like you know the full story," Y/N scoffed.

"So you don't want to fix this?"

"There's nothing to fix." Dolley hummed skeptically as Y/N proceeded past her, grabbed her jacket from the bench by the door. "Thanks for having me, though. I'll see you."

"If either of you leaves, I'm telling James everything."

She paused. "Dolley, you can't—"

"I can, and I will. Now, get back here."

"This is blackmail."

"I won't deny that." Dolley raised an expectant eyebrow when Y/N turned back to her. "Are you going to come sit down, or was this a waste of both our afternoons?"

“Dolley.”

“Would you two like a minute to yourselves?”

“I…” She didn’t answer, instead turning to Thomas, waiting for any sort of a cue. He was watching her, though, and when their eyes met, both of them fell silent. She swallowed hard.

“That might be best.” Thomas’s words were soft, but Y/N couldn’t speak, not with the lump that was building in her throat. Dolley glanced between them, and maybe she could see the silent dread in Y/N’s eyes, but she didn’t say another word, just nodded before she left the room. And with that, Y/N and Thomas were alone.

She swallowed hard. When she finally took a seat, it was on the far end of the couch. Y/N felt certain that Dolley’s draping coats and resting books on every other chair in the room was deliberate.

He was the first to speak.

"So, what're you doin' here, then?"

"Dolley invited me, too." She pursed her lips. "I came to talk to her about… everything she heard."

"Why?" Thomas looked genuinely bewildered, but Y/N didn't understand his confusion.

"I was trying to convince her not to talk to James about it." She shrugged. "I mean, it's not like it's worth her telling him now. It wouldn't change anything."

"Then why d'you care if he knows?"

"I…" She trailed off, unsure whether there was any delicate way to say that she didn't want him to be on the receiving end of any hostility from James just because he'd fucked her a few times. She didn't think he deserved that. "I guess I'd rather James not think I'm sleeping around to get ahead."

"'N you're really that worried about his opinion of you?"

"More than I should be." Her voice was quiet. "Anyway, what issue do you have with that? This whole thing affects you, too, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know." He huffed, folded his arms as he sat back against the couch cushions. "I, er… I came for the same reason. Didn't want James chewin' me out over it."

“James loves you. Even if she does tell him, you know he won’t be able to be angry about it.���

“James ‘s one of my oldest friends,” he agreed, “but when we’re workin’ together, that doesn’t matter anymore. He’d be furious.”

“Even after the fact?”

He shrugged. “We knew everything we were putting at risk here. He’d tell me my priorities weren’t in the right place, or that I shoulda been taking our campaign more serious than… whatever you ‘n I were doin’.”

“Then I guess it’s good that we stopped,” Y/N replied weakly.

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t meet her eyes. There was a long moment of silence after that; she could tell his mind was elsewhere with the absent stare he wore, fixed on the ottoman of one of the armchairs, but his brow was furrowed. He was deep in thought. She pursed her lips. “What were you gonna say that night?”

The question caught her off guard; her eyes widened, and he looked up calmly to meet her eyes, wearing an inquisitive look.

“What?”

“The night of my fundraiser.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line. “When Dolley came in, she cut you off. I haven’t been able to keep my mind off’a it.”

God, she hated how he was always so blunt. He always spoke his mind, always said what he was thinking, and it was one of the things that scared Y/N most about him. He hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of that one little moment, that fragmented sentence.

“I… I don’t remember.” Her answer was honest, but Thomas wasn’t satisfied.

"You never meant to…?"

"Hm?” Y/N furrowed her brow, and Thomas's noncommittal shrug didn't help much. “'I never meant to' what?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

Oh. She pursed her lips, and her movements were hesitant. She knew what he was talking about — that'd been the last thing she said before their tense conversation ended abruptly the night of his fundraiser. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Thomas scoffed. “Really? I don’t even deserve the truth about this?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was unshakeable; he was beyond convinced of his words, and Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “After everything we’ve been through, I know you better than this.”

“And what have we been through? Hm? Fucking on your kitchen counter? I’m sorry to say it, but I’m not quite sure that’s the peak of intimacy.”

“Yeah, alright,” he acquiesced, “but what about all the time we didn’t spend fucking?”

“I…” Y/N trailed off, her jaw tight, entire body tense. “We both knew that was why we were together in the first place. I stayed over because I didn’t wanna travel through the city in the middle of the night. There wasn’t much more to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that if you really just wanted to get into my pants, there was no need for you to spend so much time at mine.” His tone was frustratingly condescending, but he was right. “Don’t tell me the reason you made dinner with me, watched all my cheesy old movies, even watered my damn plants was ‘cause I give good head.”

Y/N scowled. "Fine. I like spending time with you. But that doesn't make us anything more than friends."

He hummed in acquiescence, giving a subdued shrug. "Guess not. Making out on the kitchen counter does that well enough, though."

"Okay, we were friends with benefits," she conceded, but Thomas didn't look quite satisfied. "What? What's wrong with that? We're friends, and we slept together."

"Don't try and tell me this is all in my head." Thomas scowled. "Yeah, we slept together. But we did a lot more than that. I know very well I'm not delusional for thinking something more was goin' on there."

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Y/N scoffed. “You know it was never like that; it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“No, I know.” Thomas shifted on the couch to face her, and his gaze was heavy with scrutiny, with skepticism. “You didn’t wanna get too involved. You made all that clear as day.”

“Then what’s the problem?” The undertone of irritation in his voice was putting her on edge, and he let out a dry, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“That you’ve been lyin’ to me.”

“What? I never—”

“I don’t mean your intentions. You never wanted us to be more than friends. That’s just fine,” he reasoned, and how measured his tone was made Y/N furrow her brow. “But what I wanna know now is if you did end up gettin’ more attached than you meant to.”

“I… ?” Her voice was breathless. It sounded as though his question had knocked the wind out of her, but Thomas just continued to watch her expectantly.

“You heard me. You know what I’m askin’.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, but the words sounded hoarse. She could feel her hands trembling where she rested them on her thighs, and she folded her arms to hide it. She didn’t want Thomas to see how uneasy she was.

“It does to me.” He pursed his lips, leaned forward to rest on his forearms on his thighs. Y/N didn’t respond. “If you’re not gonna gimme an answer on that, the least you can do is tell me what you were gonna say that night. Just give me something to go on here.”

“It won’t change anything.” Her voice was heavy.

“Then just tell me." He sounded tired. "I can't go on wondering if this was all in my head."

“Thomas…”

“Please,” he said. “What’d you ‘never mean to’ do?”

“Hurt you.” Her words were nearly inaudible as she stared down at her legs, unable to bring herself to look up and see how he was watching her. “Which feels silly to say now, but it’s the truth.”

His jaw was tight. He nodded. “Great.” He let out a heavy breath, leaned back off of his legs to sit up in his chair. “Great. ‘M gonna go tell Dolley we’re finished with talking. Don’t think there’s anything else to say.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide as he stood, particularly as she hadn’t moved an inch. “Wait, what?” He looked down at her with an expectant eyebrow raised when he went to grab his coat. She frowned. “I mean, yeah, sure, fine. But…”

“But what?” Thomas immediately challenged it when she trailed off, shaking her head.

“But that’s it?” she asked. “You’re just gonna leave now after you pressed for me to tell you that?”

He let out a humorless, breathy laugh. “‘Course I am. What else am I supposed to do with, ‘oh, I never meant to hurt you, Thomas’?”

Y/N wrinkled her nose at his mocking impression of her voice, taken aback by his shift in demeanor. “I don’t know. You’re the one who kept asking.”

“Mm, you’re right. My bad, sweetheart.” His tone was mocking as he pulled his arms into the sleeves of his coat, shrugged it onto his shoulders. He glanced back at the doors to the rest of the house. “‘S Dolley in the kitchen? Hang on a sec.”

“Hey, wait, slow down,” Y/N said, and she sounded affronted.

“What? You don’t wanna leave?”

“I… yeah, but…” She frowned. “Why do you sound so angry? What did I do?”

“I’m not angry.” The strain in his nonchalant gaze and his clenched jaw both said otherwise. “I can just appreciate some good irony, ‘s all.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean,” he said. “You’re too smart for that, c’mon.”

“I got the implication,” she replied, struggling to keep her tone in check, “but no, I don’t know what you mean by it. What have I done to wrong you so sincerely? Hm?”

“Oh, please, I can’t do this again.” His frustration was unbridled in his voice. “Hasn’t even been a week since we went over it. Try ‘n think.”

“Do you mean in North Carolina?”

“When else?”

She huffed. “Alright, fine, but I don’t know what you want me to say to that. Do you really want to re-hash that argument?”

“Not in the least. ‘S why I’m leavin’,” he said frankly. “You take care of yourself, now.”

“Wait, come on,” she protested, finally standing up alongside him. “You seem even more mad now than you did last week. What’s your problem?”

He raised an eyebrow, and the amusement in his small smile was sardonic. “Right now? Sugar, you’re my problem. What’s hard to understand about that?”

How condescending his tone was made Y/N grit her teeth. “Then what do you want from me? What am I doing so incredibly wrong right now that I deserve—?”

“Same thing you’ve been doin’,” he spat. “Pretending to care about me ‘n then turnin’ around and makin' me feel silly for believing it."

"Hey, what?" The offense she took was clear in her voice. "Of course I care about you."

"Oh, save it. There's nothing to prove anymore. No need for the act."

"What the fuck do you mean 'act'?" He rolled his eyes at her question, went back to buttoning up his coat, and she scoffed. "I'm still talking to you."

"'N you're not sayin' anything I haven't heard."

"Then what do you want from me?" she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. He looked her dead in the eye.

"Something you can't give me."

She was stunned to silence for only a moment after his biting words, and as he finished putting his coat on, she drew in a shuddering breath. "So that's what this is about. You're angry because I haven't sucked your dick in a couple weeks."

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Please. If I needed to get off, I could go anywhere I wanted."

"Oh, right, because the women are lining up down the street to fuck you."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," he snapped.

"Then what do you mean?" She folded her arms, raised her eyebrows.

He paused for a moment, tongue burrowed into the corner of his cheek as he watched her. "I mean that I actually want you. Am I not bein' clear enough? I don't just wanna fuck you once in a while 'n then pretend to be strangers. But I have no idea what the hell you want from me, so I'm leaving. You can tell Dolley I said g'night."

"I will," she replied. "And I'm sure James will love hearing everything Dolley knows about us hooking up. Have fun dealing with that fallout."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "Thanks. Whatever he has to say, it'll be much easier than havin' to deal with you."

––––––––––––––––––––

mailto: ashl.sheddy@washingtonpost.com

Ashley:

I hope this email finds you well. Thank you so much for all your feedback on the Adams article; it’s been incredibly helpful in my redrafting process. However, many of the claims he makes about Jefferson’s past remain unsubstantiated, and I have faced numerous obstacles in finding a source who is willing to corroborate. None of Jefferson’s contacts who know him well enough to confirm or deny are willing to comment. As such, I am reaching out to request a two-week postponement on the publishing of the article while I straighten out the facts supporting it.

Thank you in advance,

Y/N L/N

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS’S WORDS HAD stung. He left that day with no further ado, and Y/N was left dwelling in the days that followed. She couldn't help but wince every time she recalled what happened. Her guilt was weighing on her even heavier than before.

"Mija, where is the order for Marcus?"

It was Mira's voice that broke her train of thought, pulled her out of her head. She blinked hard and found herself in the middle of absentmindedly assembling a sandwich. She checked the receipt— shit. Marcus had specifically asked for no mayo.

Y/N huffed as she trashed the bread and pulled out another roll. A minute later, she slid his order out in a basket complete with fries and a pickle, yelled it out over the counter, and went on to the next one. They were closing in ten minutes: why the hell were there still orders to make?

She slumped against the kitchen counter, resting on her hands against it after she finished the lobster roll for Sriya. Mira walked in to her left.

"Ay, this mess," she huffed, untying her apron and scrunching her nose as she surveyed the room. Y/N nodded, her blank stare not leaving the floor in front of her. Mira furrowed her brow. "Oye, you with me?"

Again, she nodded absently, and Mira frowned, folded her arms. "And you are happy to wash all these dishes, too? I can leave you here to mop the floors?"

The robotic nod she received in return made her sigh. "Mija." She snapped her fingers; Y/N visibly jumped, eyes wide. She looked at Mira. "What is wrong, hm? Why are you acting dumb?"

"Hey, uncalled for," Y/N defended herself, wearing a small frown as she looked over at Mira's impatient expression. "I'm just distracted."

"By what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know… work, I guess."

"You are at work," Mira pointed out, and Y/N sighed.

"You know I mean my other job. There's a lot on my mind. I'm sorry if I've been slacking here."

"Mm. Apology accepted," she said, and Y/N could only roll her eyes.

"Glad to hear it."

"But actually talk to me now, hm? You are giving me half answers." Mira raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. Y/N pursed her lips.

"It's not a huge deal. Just an article I've been working on," she said. Her stare was absent. After a minute, she cleared her throat. "But hey, um, sorry to change the subject, but can I ask, has Thomas Jefferson been around here lately?"

"'To change the subject,'" Mira repeated skeptically. "So he is your problem. It is always a man."

Y/N furrowed her brow. "I thought you loved Thomas."

"Sí, sí, pero te quiero más," Mira replied matter-of-factly. Y/N couldn't help her small smile. "You know you always come first for me."

"Thanks," she said softly.

"But why do you care about Thomas Jefferson coming here now? Hm?" Mira asked, making Y/N frown. She assumed she was off the hook. "All you ever do is complain about him. Shouldn't you be happy?"

"So he hasn't been coming here?"

"Ah, ah. My question first."

Y/N shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I just haven't seen him during my shifts. I was curious."

Mira paused, eyeing her skeptically for a moment before she pulled her apron off over her head and folded it in her hands. "Yes, he has been by."

"Really? When?"

She nodded. "He was here yesterday."

"Did he seem… okay?"

Mira paused. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno." She shifted under Mira's disbelieving gaze. "I've heard he hasn't made many public appearances recently. Just wondering if something was going on."

"He seemed fine." Mira tossed her apron onto the counter. Y/N nodded, pressing her lips together. "He asked about you."

She froze. "He did?"

"He did," she confirmed. "Why did he ask about you?"

“What? I don’t know.” Her brow was furrowed, and her tone was defensive. “What did he ask?”

“The same thing you asked me about him. What is going on?”

“Nothing, I don’t—”

“No me mientas. I saw him leaving on a Saturday morning two months ago when I came in to open.” Mira’s tone was sharp, and Y/N’s stomach dropped. “I am not stupid; simply tell me what is happening."

“Mira, it’s really not what you think; he was just here while I was closing, and it was the night of that horrible blizzard, and his car wouldn’t start, and the roads were closed…”

“So you had an innocent little slumber party with Thomas Jefferson?”

“I just let him stay here for the night,” Y/N defended. “He didn’t really have any other options.”

“So why is he coming around here asking after you?” Mira folded her arms, and when Y/N shrugged, she sighed. “Please be honest with me. It is obvious that there is something more going on than you want to admit.”

Y/N’s long moment of silence following her words told Mira more than Y/N meant to divulge. Mira pursed her lips.

“Por favor, dime. I am only asking because I care about you.”

“Well, I appreciate it, but there’s nothing to be worried about,” Y/N assured her. “I’m obviously fine, and he’s apparently doing alright as well, so there’s no problem. I’ll come talk to you if there ever is.”

Mira looked her over as she cleaned up the counter she stood before. “Are you really doing fine, though?”

Y/N went to take out the trash.

–––––––––––––––––––––

SHE SETTLED BACK into her usual closing shifts at the diner within the week, returning to working the dinner rush. She could only feign illness to stay away for so long, and this wasn’t the shift Thomas typically came in during, anyway. Besides, she needed the money more than she needed to avoid him.

That week passed with little intrigue, limited to her favorite (and least favorite) customers alongside a surprise appearance from Lafayette on Wednesday night. Thankfully, he showed up during peak hours, so it wasn’t difficult to evade his questions under the guise of taking care of other customers. She assumed he left shortly after he came, but around an hour later, she noticed him in the back corner chatting animatedly with the old man who always ordered nothing but coffee and read his newspaper for hours. She couldn’t help but smile.

She was slowly walking back information from her article about Thomas, claiming she had another source denying the validity of its original claims, but she wasn’t sure her editor was buying it. Ashley was impatient, and her approach had always been to publish first and follow up later. It was surely only a matter of days, maybe a week, before the article went live without anyone corroborating it. Y/N was operating on stolen time.

But at that point, it couldn’t be her greatest concern.

The following Wednesday was slow at both the office and the diner. Thomas hadn’t appeared much in public since his fundraiser in North Carolina, so Y/N didn’t have much to write about to distract her from the exposé she was doing her best to stall. She had resorted to redundant think pieces about his economic policy platform.

When she arrived at the diner for the night, Y/N was already counting the hours until she could curl up with a glass of wine and watch Parks and Rec until she passed out on the couch. She’d take a night with Aubrey Plaza over her regulars any day.

She was working the kitchen with Jac until Mira left for the night, pushing Y/N to the register in her place. It wouldn’t have been a problem for her if not for the first face she saw when Mira brought her out to the front.

He was absentmindedly checking his phone when she approached, and she cleared her throat as she stepped up to the register. He looked up, and his eyes went wide.

"Hey." She spoke first. "What can I get you?"

"Hey." His voice was hesitant. "Sorry, I… thought you didn't work Wednesdays anymore."

She didn't meet his eyes, staring past him at the diner's patrons as she tapped her fingernails on the counter. "This is my usual shift."

"I know, but Lafayette said…" He trailed off, shaking his head. She raised her eyebrows, finally looking directly at him. His eyes were bloodshot. "Nevermind. 'M sorry. Can I get a roast beef on rye and a cappuccino to go?"

"Yeah. It'll be out shortly." Her words were soft, absentminded as she eyed him. He looked more put-together than she'd seen him when they were at Dolley’s, but the heavy frames of his glasses didn't hide the growing bags under his eyes.

He nodded, leaning down to pay, signing the screen before him. "Thanks, sweetheart."

He was tucking his card back into his wallet as he spoke, and as her eyes widened, he froze, both of them processing his words at the same time. He didn't say another word, though. He sighed as he turned to walk away, and she didn't interrupt him.

She sent his order to the kitchen and grabbed a cup for his coffee, marking it with his name. She stared at it for a long moment before glancing back up at him. He was seated at a table by the end of the bar, typing frantically on his phone.

They had his order out for him in around five minutes, and it was Jac who called it out to the dining room when he put it on the bar. Y/N went ahead and made his coffee herself, forcibly switching places with her coworker to transfer herself off of the register, and she was finishing it right as he came up to collect his sandwich.

"Cappuccino for Thomas?"

Her voice was weak as she met him at the end of the counter, and he gave her a halfhearted smile.

"Thanks."

As she handed him the cup, his fingers brushed against hers, and she couldn't bring herself to let go.

"Give me a call?" she asked quietly when he met her gaze. Her eyes were hopeful, and he swallowed thickly.

"Take care of yourself." His tone was impersonal as he broke her stare. She pursed her lips. He pulled the cup from her shaking hands.

––––––––––––––––––––

THOMAS DIDN'T CALL. Y/N wasn't sure she was really expecting him to after how he came in on Wednesday and made it clear that he'd been trying to avoid her. Still, her heart rate picked up every time she received a notification, not letting her rest until she had confirmed it wasn't him. She was let down every time.

She was the last employee there before they closed on Friday, as Jac had to leave early for a date, so she was left wiping down the counters as she waited for the final few customers to make their way out of the diner.

She looked up when the bell above the door rang, expecting the last person to be leaving, but instead, Thomas Jefferson was walking in. Her eyebrows shot up.

She came over to meet him at the register. "Did Lafayette also tell you I wasn't working Fridays?"

"Nah. 'M actually here to see you," he said. His expression was blank, his tone businesslike. "You did ask me to call, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Her voice was small. "At this point, I didn't think you were gonna."

"I didn't plan to." They both glanced over as the bell above the door chimed again, letting them know the last person had left the diner. "But it's been on my mind. I don't have time for that typa distraction, which is why I'm here."

"Right," she said softly. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee would be great if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course." The coffee pot was still hot and sitting under the machine, so it didn't take her long to pour him a cup in one of the mugs she'd just cleaned (one cream, two sugars). She turned back to hand it to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He accepted it as he sat down across the counter from her, putting it down in front of him. When he pulled out his wallet, Y/N raised an eyebrow, and when he started fishing out bills, she couldn't help but sigh.

"Put your money away; this is on the house," she said, and he glanced up with his dark brow knit.

"You should know by now that I can't be bought."

Her eyes widened at his words, and she looked him over skeptically for a moment as he put his wallet away. He held her gaze for another moment, watching her expectantly, and after a beat passed, the corners of his lips quirked up, giving the only indication that he might be joking. She rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget about your impeccable morals?"

"No idea." He reached for his coffee, and he took a delicate sip as she leaned against the counter across from him. "Why'd you ask me to call?"

"I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't think a text would cut it."

"What do we have left to say right now?" The bluntness of his question caught her off guard, and her eyebrows shot up as he watched her expectantly. "The conversation we had at Dolley's made it pretty clear any talk we had was gonna be more of the same."

She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her as she drew back from the counter. "If you think this is a waste of time then why did you bother to come here?"

"I don't think this is a waste of time," he defended. "I'm just not sure what you want from it."

"I don't know if you do, but I still have more to say," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you say it while we were at Dolley’s?"

"Because we started fighting, and you were angry, and I…" She sighed. "I didn't know how to. You had every right to be angry, but I didn't want to think I was in the wrong."

"So what's changed?" he asked, watching her expectantly.

She shrugged hesitantly, looking down at her hands on the counter. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said. I felt bad, and… I've been worried about you."

"You've been worried about me?" he repeated skeptically, and when she looked up, she didn't like the disdainful look in his eyes.

"I have." When his disbelieving stare didn't budge, she sighed. "The last couple times I've seen you, you haven't seemed like yourself. You looked… tired."

"'Course I'm tired; I'm running a presidential campaign," he said flatly, and Y/N pursed her lips.

"I know, but then Lafayette called, and…" She trailed off when Thomas huffed. "I dunno. Mira told me you asked about me, and then Lafayette started talking like he knew something I didn't. So I was worried."

"Of course Lafayette called," he scoffed. "He can't just stay out of our damn lives, can he?"

"He means well," she reasoned, but he looked unimpressed.

"He needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries," Thomas said, "but I'm doing just fine. If that's all you wanted to talk about, I can head out."

"No, c'mon," she pleaded. "I didn't bring you here just for that. Bear with me."

Thomas said nothing but raised an expectant eyebrow as he took another sip of his coffee, waiting for her to continue.

"The real reason I wanted to talk is because I owe you an apology. Several apologies, really."

He put down his mug, leaning back in his chair. "What for?"

"You know what for." She gave him a tired look, and he shrugged innocently.

"Maybe." He drummed his fingers on the ceramic absentmindedly, watching them bounce on its glossy surface. "But I wanna know if you know what you're apologizin' for."

The bored look he wore made her feel small. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry for treating you how I did."

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"I think if I tried to be specific we'd be here quite a while."

"I've got time."

"It's late."

"You don't have work tomorrow." He paused, considering himself. "As far as I know, that is. Won't pretend I still know your schedule."

"It hasn’t changed as much as I pretended it did,” she said quietly. “So I guess I’ll start there. I’m sorry for lying to you about my schedule and trying to pretend I hadn’t been avoiding you. I should’ve been upfront when you asked about it.”

“Yeah, you shoulda," he agreed with a nonchalant shrug. "I never got an explanation on why you were avoidin’ me either, but with how you started deflecting when I asked about other men, I’m not sure I want one.”

“Woah, I wasn’t deflecting anything about other men,��� she defended, brow creased. “I told you in no uncertain terms that I had no desire to hook up with Lafayette, and you decided to push that and scrutinize my dating life.”

He rolled his eyes. “‘S great to know you and Lafayette aren’t sleeping together, but you can’t pretend you were straightforward with me.”

“What was I not being clear about?”

“You’re really gonna make me do this again?” Thomas huffed, glancing to his right as disbelief flashed in his eyes. “I dunno why you wanted to talk to me if we were just gonna rehash this.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Every time I've asked whether you were sleeping with other people, you told me you didn’t owe me that information, ‘n it all became some big fight about me actin’ controlling,” he said. “If you don’t wanna tell me, fine, but don’t act like you’ve been transparent. We both know you’re keeping me in the dark for a reason.”

“I’m not, actually,” she said, looking him in the eye. “I haven’t been with anyone else. Not in any capacity. If I were having sex with other people, I would’ve been asking you to be a lot more careful.”

“So you didn’t call me up to tell me I needa get tested for chlamydia?”

“No, just syphilis.” Her tone was lighthearted, but Thomas didn’t offer any sign of amusement. She cleared her throat. “You’re the only person I’ve been with since we met, so the last thing you have to worry about is me passing on some incurable STI.”

“You haven’t slept with anyone else since I’ve known you?” There was surprise in his creased eyes as he fixated on the first part of her sentence. She shrugged.

“I guess I haven't.” She eyed his incredulous stare. "I didn't think this would be that shocking, either."

"You've been careful as possible to make that unclear," he said. "So if there's nobody else, then why all the lyin'? If you wanted space, you coulda just said so. I'm an adult; I can handle it."

"I know you can," she said quietly. She rubbed at a smudge on the countertop, trying to avoid his gaze. "I just… I've felt guilty about being with you and… whatever this is. Whatever we are. So much happened so fast between us, and the more time I spend in the outside world the more I feel like it was a mistake."

"'A mistake'?" The hurt in his tone was clear, and she sighed, resting her forehead on one of her hands.

"I don't mean it like that, but you know what the reality is here. We knew it from the start."

"I shouldn't have come here," he muttered, setting down his mug and moving to stand. Her eyes widened.

"Wait, hear me out," she pleaded, but he was off of his seat, buttoning his coat. "I got a lot more attached to you than I meant to, alright?"

That stopped him cold.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said at Dolley's, and I'm sorry I spent so much time deflecting." She pursed her lips, watching him hopefully, and when he met her eyes, his tense shoulders softened. "I really like being with you, but with what our lives are, we can't be doing this. We’re not good for each other."

"I never asked you for any kind of a commitment," he defended. "You shoulda just told me if you didn't wanna do it anymore."

"I do want to keep doing it, though, and that's why it's such a problem." She sighed, her back sagging as she leaned against the counter. "I got too close. It's ruined all my objectivity as a journalist."

"You're good at your job," he reasoned. "The way you write about me's gotten more nuanced. I don't think that's a bad thing, sweetheart."

"No, you don't get it. This is a presidential race, and as a frontrunner, people have had enough of hearing about your politics. They get it by now. They want to hear about you and your ugly past and all the things that make you an unqualified leader." Her voice sounded hopeless, and it made him frown. "You've told me too much for me to play it straight. I care too much to be able to decide what the public does and doesn't need to know. I got this assignment because I wanted to serve up your dirty laundry on a silver platter, but I don't think I have it in me after everything that's happened."

"There's not much in my past worth hiding."

"Isn't there?"

"If I've made it this this far into my career without bein' hurt by what I do behind closed doors, I'm not afraid of anything you're gonna dig up."

"You were an alcoholic."

His wide eyes snapped to hers, and she didn't dare speak.

"'N how the hell d'you know about that?"

"So it's true?" she asked quietly.

"I was grieving my goddamn fiancée. She was all I had; I was surviving," he snapped, and she pursed her lips. "You try losing the love of your life 'n tell me it doesn't screw with your head."

"I don't blame you, Thomas, and I'm not judging you." Her soft words didn't save her from his skeptical gaze. "I’m sorry that you went through that. You didn’t deserve a second of it. But now that I know this, I’m supposed to publish an article about it. My editor wants to make this front page news, but I want to kill the story because I got too close to you."

"If I was anybody else, would you even know about this?"

"I got this information from an interview." She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "My source wants to remain anonymous, but it's sound enough to publish without someone else corroborating it."

"Are you tellin' me you're planning to publish an article about me bein' an alcoholic?" His voice was incredulous; he watched her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The look in her eyes was pained.

"I don't want to," she said. "I don't want to make this public because I care too much about you. I don't even know whether this would be a fair article for someone to write because I've lost all perspective on writing about you."

"So don't write the article," he said, and she could barely stand to look at the worry in his eyes. "'S all in the past. I'm under control now; 's not who I am. That was me at my worst."

"My editor already knows about the interview," Y/N said softly, and she winced at the dread she saw flash in his expression. "If I don't publish this, someone else will, and I'll lose my job in the process."

"Who did the interview this came from?"

"I did." Her words were tearful.

"Then you can still stop this," he said firmly. "Refuse to write about it. Don't send your boss the notes from the interview, or the tape, or whatever you've got."

"Thomas, it's already written."

Her words struck him silent, and all he could do for a moment was stare at her in disbelief.

"I'm trying to stop it from running. It's a rough draft, so my editor still needs me to—"

"I opened up to you about my fiancée's death, 'n you just turned around and wrote an article about it?" His quiet voice was heavy with hurt.

"It's not about that. It doesn't even mention Martha, and my editor doesn't know about any of that," she pleaded. "My source doesn’t know about her, so nobody else has to. But there are people out there trying to crush your campaign who know about your struggle with addiction. The information’s out there; it’s only a matter of time before someone goes public with it."

“So you figured you may as well fast-track destroyin’ my reputation? You wanna tell the whole world who I was in my weakest moments?”

“Wouldn’t you rather the story be written by someone sympathetic to what you’ve been through?” she asked. “If I withhold the source from my editor, she can’t run the story, I lose my job, and some asshole who wants to see you suffer casts this all in a much harsher light.”

“All I’m askin’ for is time,” he pleaded. “We’re in the middle of the primaries; if this comes out now, I’m through.”

“I’ve delayed it for as long as I can. My editor wants a final draft by the end of next week.”

“The end of next week,” he repeated softly, looking down at the counter. His teeth were gritted; his jaw tense, but he was eerily still. Y/N felt sick. “You asked me to come here to apologize and tell me you cared about me just so that you could, what, feel better about yourself before you stabbed me in the back?”

“I felt bad about how we left things.”

“And this is so much better.” His voice was harsh, thick with irony as he looked up at her. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You have some goddamn audacity, trying to make peace with me knowing damn well you just wrote an article that’s gonna destroy everything I’ve been working for.”

“This isn’t going to kill your career. It won’t even kill your campaign; the primaries are almost over, and you’ve won. You’re the candidate; take your victory lap,” she said, and the source of the indignation in her voice was hard to pin down. “I’ve been writing articles for months in opposition to your presidential run, and you never cared. We even laughed about it. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that there’s finally some news that might make a dent.”

“This isn’t the same thing, and you know it,” he snapped, rising from his seat as his hand hit the countertop. His mug clattered against the surface.

“And what’s so different? I’ve said the harshest things about your career that I could think of; no matter how bad it got, you were still texting me on Friday nights asking me to come over.”

“This isn’t about my career. This is about me.” The words were firm, and he looked Y/N dead in the eye as he said them. “You don’t care about me; you care about climbin’ corporate ladders ‘n being national news. Nobody who really cared would be able to hear about what I’ve been through ‘n capitalize on it.”

“It’s not like that, Thomas, I—”

“Don’t call me,” he cut her off abruptly as he buttoned his coat. “Don’t text me, don’t talk to me, and don’t come near me. I’ve had enough of this goddamn game you’ve been playing, and I’m done having this conversation over and over again where I give you the benefit of the doubt n’ all you do is remind me that I’m expendable.”

“Wait, don’t—”

“I said I’m done,” he said. “And we’re done. You… you need to take a long, hard look at yourself before letting anybody else into your life.”

Y/N could barely speak with the lump building in her throat. She could barely breathe. Her eyes stung as she looked up at him, and she was afraid to move. All she could manage, her voice hoarse, was, “I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

When he walked out, he didn’t look back.