#when max gets over himself and his fears that is

[lsunstreakerl]

2.2k of fmf! this is set in the future, with rico and mick :D lots of little max mentions throughout, and he pops up at the end briefly. rico POV.

this isn't technically spoilers for anything you guys don't already know, lol.

Rico grunts as his fingers dig into the cliff face, hauling himself up over the edge and collapsing. His harsh pants puff into the air above him as he rolls onto his side, finding Mick's wryly amused face.

"This,"

He takes another gasping breath, each inhale feeling like shards of ice scraping across his lungs.

"Explains a lot about Max."

Mick quirks an eyebrow at him, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Took you long enough."

Rico groans, sitting up as Mick's gloved hand extends in front of him, helping pull him to his feet.

"How the hell did you get up here so quick?"

Mick tips his head back to look up the rest of the cliff face, snow landing on his face as he shrugs.

"Practice."

Rico tries to imagine Max doing this— a smaller version of his husband scaling the cliff face, fingers stiff from the cold, blue eyes hard and determined. He can see it, as much as the image makes his heart clench.

"And we have to get to the top?"

Mick makes a so-so motion with his hand.

"Not necessarily— just high enough for the winreems to notice us."

He's grinning, but there's a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"That's when the hunt really starts."

Rico eyes the cliff face warily, trying to spot any of the creatures crawling high above them. He only has Max's previous descriptions to go off of— silvery creatures with scales thicker than armor, jaws that unhinge wide enough to snap a man in half.

He doesn't spot any.

"Why not draw them in now?"

Mick gestures at the snowy ledge they're resting on. It's not a very wide space.

"Do you want to fight here? The best chance is getting up top. There's more room. Also,"

He makes a face behind the scarf.

"There are weapons left behind there. It could be seen as honorable, giving the dead their final kill."

Rico swallows, glancing back down at the dizzying fall below them.

"Right."

------

His nose is tucked deep into his scarf, ice crystallizing on his lashes as he hauls himself up the cliff face behind Mick. The younger man makes it look effortless, no signs of hesitation as he climbs.

There's a deep ache starting to settle in his bones, burning low in his muscles as they finally clear the top. His fingers are numb inside of his fur lined gloves, but he feels another flash of determination each time he looks at the carefully woven leather bands decorating the wrists, or the claws sewn in above his knuckles.

They're a gift from Max, one he hadn't entirely understood at first— but he gets it now. Mick looks at him critically as they both stand.

"You sure you can handle this?"

Rico looks across the semi-flat plateau they've arrived at, eyes skipping over the lumps in the snow, glinting oddly in the light.

"Didn't you say there were weapons?"

Mick makes a face.

"Under the snow, if you're desperate enough— but the mountain doesn't care for memorials. You're probably walking on bones right now."

Rico's stomach churns as he looks at the snow beneath his boots, before looking back up at Mick. He can't see any judgment, but he knows that doesn't necessarily mean anything, especially not from Mick. He and Max are close, a strong bond Rico hadn't expected.

He's also mildly terrifying. When he'd come through the window and attacked Rico— He hasn't felt that kind of bone deep fear in years.

The fear of losing.

Mick claims now that he wouldn't actually have killed him, only that he was ensuring Rico was able to protect Max while he was incapacitated, but he's not entirely sure he believes it.

Either way, this is a test.

"I'm sure."

Rico isn't northern— doesn't have their deep customs and mentalities, and some days Max feels oceans away with how he thinks, following paths Rico doesn't understand.

That doesn't mean he's weak.

He's built his kingdom off the backs of men who have come after him, overseen the construction of villages and towns, personally handled more battles than he can count.

He wraps his fingers around the hilt of his sword, feeling his knuckles press against the bone of his gloves through the leather. This is for Max.

For their children.

Mick must see it in his eyes, nodding before he tugs his scarf down, hand coming to his mouth in a shrill whistle. The noise echoes a few seconds after he stops, piercing in the frozen air.

Rico startles when one of the lumps under the snow shifts, white powder falling in clumps as the rest of the lumps move as well.

The creature that cracks open a vivid orange eye at them sends chills down his spine. The color is almost an exact shade to the orange on Max's house crest— and he has a feeling he knows now where it comes from.

The snow falls off of it as it shakes, silvery scales glinting in the light. It has six legs, from what Rico can see— a long tail with a club at the end, and an elongated snout, jagged teeth snapping at the air as it howls at them.

Mick darts to the right, and Rico goes left. The winreem is fast, faster than he expects for a creature of its size, and he grits his teeth when the snout swings in his direction.

He'd used to wonder what kind of beast could leave the scar that Max has, ragged silver lines down his leg— but now he's wondering how that was the only injury his husband had gotten away with. The thought of Max fighting it, even younger than he'd been when Rico had first met him...

It's a bit late to be claiming revenge, but he'll give it his all anyways.

The winreem darts forward, moving with a rapid side to side pattern in a way that reminds him of sparring with Max, and it's habitual as he falls back into a feint, lunging in from the side to strike at one of its legs.

It's not a full power blow, but it's enough to easily knock a man in a suit of armor over, in Rico's experience.

It barely cuts into the winreem's scales.

He can briefly make out Mick, featherlight on his feet as he darts across the snow and slashes down at the tail.

The wind is whistling in his ears, but his blood is running hot as he feels the focus set in, senses hyperaware of everything around him.

He needs more power, he needs to get to the other leg, they need to slow it down, they need—

There.

He puts his full power into the next strike, feeling it cut deep into the scales and finally slice flesh. Steaming blood sprays out, boiling hot where it splatters against his face, melting the snow where it lands as the winreem screams, howl echoing off the mountaintop.

Mick brings his blades down in a spin that cuts deep into the tail, and the winreem thrashes, enraged.

Rico makes eye contact with Mick as they both dart back, circling slightly as the winreem snarls, eyes narrowed. It lunges at Mick next, and Rico takes the opportunity before he can think about it, leaping forward and gripping onto one of its spines, hauling himself onto its back.

The spine slices into his gloves, but it doesn't quite reach his hands, and he grabs the next one, climbing towards its head as it howls again, jaws snapping at him.

Mick distracts it with another attack at the legs, and Rico stumbles as the left side of the winreem buckles, almost losing his footing.

He can see it just in front of him, hidden from the front and the sides by the bone ridges of the skull— but the soft spot Max had mentioned is there. The scales are sparse, and the brain is just behind it, if Rico can get there.

Mick takes a hit to the side from the club of the tail, staggering with a gasp as he gains some ground backwards, and Rico takes the risk, letting go of the spines to lunge forwards, both hands bringing his sword directly into the unprotected hide.

His footing slips on the scales, and his shoulders jerk painfully as he drops off the side of the winreem, but he doesn't let go, and his blade pierces in, slicing past muscle and flesh.

The winreem staggers, unsteady footsteps to each side as Rico ducks his head, hot blood gushing down across his arms and splattering across his hood. He can feel the heat of it through the gloves, running in rivers down his arms. It doesn't manage to get between his skin and the leather, but he finally feels his feet brush against the ground as it collapses.

He squints his eyes open as he uncurls his fingers from his sword hilt. Mick has an odd expression on his face, eyes stuck on Rico's hands. The palms of his gloves are shredded, but his eyebrows furrow when he realizes the spine had come to a stop against a familiar silver hide.

He lifts his hands, inspecting the palms. The inner layer of the gloves, tucked between the fur lining and the leather— it's winreem hide.

Mick shakes his head disbelievingly.

"Did he tell you to climb the spines?"

Rico looks back at the winreem, and then down to his gloves again.

"No. He never mentioned that part at all."

There's a soft laugh from Mick as he steps closer, gesturing for Rico to pull his sword back out.

"That's because it's suicidal, usually. The only other person I've seen pull it off is Max, and he's been trained on winreem fighting since birth. Your evasions though..."

Rico yanks his blade out, carefully avoiding another hot rush of blood. Max has always been at his most dangerous when sparring footwork with him, but he's thinking about it now— the fast evasions, the quick strikes—

Max has been fighting him like a winreem. Max's entire style is the winreem, evasive and beautifully dangerous, disguised under soft blankets of snow and a slow, simmering patience.

He looks back at the gloves, and then at Mick.

"You think he knew? That I would go for the spines?"

Mick shrugs, still eyeing his palms incredulously.

"I have no idea, Verhoeven. I've never been able to keep up with him. But— for you both to do the same move... That was weird. I feel like I was thrown back in time."

Rico gives a wry grin and a shrug.

"Well, we should get back so I can figure out what part of his leathers he took this hide from— he needs it now more than ever."

He's frowning as he thinks about it. If he could hide Max behind a wall of winreem hide he would. They're not entirely sure, but he's been weaker lately, frequent bouts of nausea he thinks Rico doesn't know about.

He's got a solid enough suspicion that he's out here on a mountaintop, getting ready to lug a winreem corpse back into the village, in order for their children to be protected.

Max is going to kill him when he finds out that this is the diplomatic trip he was talking about, but Rico's been planning it quietly for ages, even before the transfiguration. Ever since Max had finally told him about the winreems, he'd understood that it was a challenge. A real one, to prove his commitment to his husband and his family.

He's slowly earned respect from the North, but this kill is his. His blade sunk into the skull, his leathers bloodstained and wet with melted snow. He feels practically feral up here, energy running through him.

The fight for survival here is unlike anywhere else he's ever been, intoxicating in its intensity.

Mick steps forward, lightly punching him in the shoulder. Already, Rico can see a difference in him, in the way he's being viewed. Mick is treating them like equals.

"Come on, winreem killer. We have to get this thing back down the mountain."

Rico makes a face as Mick laughs. He can't even imagine...

"How did you and Max do it? You must have been tiny."

Mick's mouth curls at the edges, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We rolled it and then dropped it off of a cliff."

Rico eyes the cliff face, and then the winreem.

"Tempting."

------

"I am going to kill you—"

"Max, my love, I was with Mick the entire time, nothing was going to happen—"

Rico ducks as a leather boot goes flying over his head, and Max takes another step forward, second boot in hand.

"Oh, nothing? Just a casual little winreem hunt? Do you think I'm stupid?"

Rico winces as Max gets closer, eyes narrowed. It's not good for his health when Max yells at him— he gets too distracted by the blue of his eyes, the annoyed tilt to his mouth. Today is no different.

"I stayed back here because you had to be on your diplomatic trip, and you're telling me I could've been winreem hunting?"

Rico can't hide the amused twitch to his mouth fast enough, and Max gets his fingers curled in the front of his cloak, yanking him down so they're eye level.

"You're sleeping across the hall tonight."

"Max—"

[raven--stag]

oh avery's surgery episode my beloved

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[fastandcarlos]

When You Fall Asleep On Him In The Paddock : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

Whenever you fall asleep on Max he always becomes very protective and tries his very best to shield you. He tends to move his arm around you and hold onto you in his side, keeping nice and careful with his movements to make sure that he doesn’t wake you. If anyone dares look at you if you’re asleep with people around you he sends them a firm glare to mind their business, usually wrapping his jumper around you to hide you as best you can and make you that little more comfortable. “I’ve got you,” he would whisper every single time you stirred to assure you that you were alright.

» Charles LeClerc

He actively encourages you to fall asleep when you start yawning at the paddock, because he loves to hold onto you no matter where the two of you are. “It’s alright,” he’d smile whenever your anxious eyes looked at him to make sure it was really alright. Charles would tap his shoulder and invite you to rest your hand, with you unaware of the wide smile on his face above you. He’s happy to sit for as long as you need him to, making the most of your comforting presence holding tightly onto him before having to go out and race.

» Lando Norris

Whenever you fall asleep on him, Lando gets incredibly shy. He knows that people are watching him and preparing their lines to tease him later when you’re out of earshot. He’s happy to take it though as it means that you’re able to rest beside him. When he thinks no one is watching him Lando will lean down and press a kiss against the top of your head or run his hand along the length of your back to help you fall asleep. If he’s honest, he loves the attention he gets when you fall asleep as it means everyone gets to see what a dutiful boyfriend he really is.

» Carlos Sainz

There’s always a bit of worry with Carlos when he sees you falling asleep as he doesn’t want to have to be the one to wake you up when his schedule calls. To start with he’ll try and resist you, but that never usually lasts long as your eyes pleadingly look up at him. “I can’t say no to you, can I?” He huffs, opening his body for you to curl up into his side and close your eyes for a while. Once he sees how cosy you are he knows it’s the right thing to do, even if only half an hour later he has to do the cruel job of slowly shaking you awake again.

» George Russell

When he can tell that you’re getting sleepy George will immediately whisk you off into his drivers room so that you can rest comfortably. He hates people watching you sleep, especially when your head is in his lap, much preferring to give you privacy. George will pull the curtains and make the bed before laying down and letting you tuck into his side. “What about work?” You whisper when you notice him settling down beside you to have a nap himself. “Work can wait,” he reassures you as he wraps his arm around your frame.

» Lewis Hamilton

He has everyone looking after you when you fall asleep, asking some of the staff around the garage to get a pillow and a blanket to make you feel as comfortable as possible. Lewis wouldn’t dare move when you’re asleep out of fear of disturbing you, and has been known to bring meetings to him so that he doesn’t disturb your sleep either. When the pillow arrives he delicately lifts your head and places it under before draping the blanket over you if you’re at one of the chillier races too, happy to let you lay for as long as you need to.

» Daniel Ricciardo

There’s a smug feeling with Daniel whenever you fall asleep on him, like it’s a statement to remind everyone just how happy you are in your relationship. He’s happy to show off the fact that you’re asleep on him and let people see how much of a comfort having him there is for you. If anyone offers to free up a space for you Daniel will decline, he knows that the only thing that you need to help you fall asleep is him. He’d stay there all day if he could whenever you’re asleep, much preferring to be with you then do any of the other boring bits of the job.

» Oscar Piastri

He’s a pretty shy man at the best of times, but you falling asleep on him in the paddock just about tips Oscar over the edge, especially when there’s a camera or two around. As soon as he sees that camera shutter go down he knows exactly what will be on the front pages the following morning, and although he’s anxious about what will come, knowing that you’re resting is all that matters to Oscar. With how hard you’re working he’d let you sleep anywhere, even if it ends up with him being titled as the softest boy in the paddock.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

any feedback, comments or reblogs are always appreciated ✨

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you, of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love what I do, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[glitteringcrab]

Morty is so dumb that...

1. He regularly disarms Rick's neutrino bombs. The first time he did it it was completely on the fly, no prior experience. Yet, he did it.

2. He has a knack for learning alien languages... as for the tree people in the battery dimension, it was obviously done without any sort of translator or support. (And he took over as their leader)

3. He's quick on his feet and can think his way out in a stressful situation, figuring out things that Rick can't and coming up with innovative solutions.

4. He figured out how to use a portal gun.

5. He can figure out how machines he's never seen nor used before work, and employ them successfully.

6. Beat Rick (smartest man in the universe?) in a board game.

7. Can manipulate said "smartest man in the universe", if he so chooses.

8. Became a successful stock broker. Out of the blue. Just did it.

9. Run. Whole. Freaking. Civilizations (and also toppled them as Marta)

10. Pitches good ideas that Rick typically ignores

11. When suddenly becomes motivated to try, he is good at math

12. His ideas were good enough that he would have gotten a deal for a movie production...!

13. His default intelligence is maxed out.

...At this point, it's only a matter of time before he starts making his own inventions, Eyepatch-Morty-style.

GUYS.

The only reason we've been thinking that Morty is stupid is that Rick has been calling him stupid repeatedly.

Sure, Morty does plenty of dumb stuff, but so does Rick. Rick has the emotional intelligence of a four year old and throws tantrums of cosmic proportions whenever slighted (vat of acid? submit to the selfie?), while often going ahead with complicated, innovative ideas... that in reality solve nothing and are a waste of time (Pickle Rick?? Leg Rick?? Cloning his own daughter? The dumb time-loop in his own dimension? Replacing himself with a robot? Creating a robot ghost to scary Mr Poopybutthole instead of just telling him to leave??) Not to mention his many incredibly lame jokes.

Everyone does dumb stuff occasionally!!! No one is an impeccable genius of non-stop moments of brightness!! (even Eyepatch Morty, the most cautious character, the character who has made basically NO MISTAKES up to now, sounds dumb a couple of times: "I'm gonna do the thing I wanna do, with the curve thing" and "My biggest fear is other people being afraid. Of fear. Itself." lol).

If Rick hadn't been calling Morty a freaking idiot with every breath available, we wouldn't be thinking "oh look haha the moron became a stock broker, what a joke, must be some sort of fluke"; we would be thinking "what an incredibly gifted kid".

We would attribute Morty's many mistakes to lack of experience, to lack of wisdom, to youth, to enthusiasm, to idealism, to teenager hormones, to acting hastily.

We would wish to see him eventually mature, apply his time and effort to worthwhile endeavors instead (mainly) of inane teenage stuff. We would wish to see him do well in school, we would wish to see him reach his full potential and succeed in great things.

Only Rick keeps pounding our heads with how stupid Morty is, and all of Morty's successes are never mentioned again, but getting lost to oblivion in comparison to Rick's (who has 60+ years more experience) genius.

WE VIEWERS ARE BEING UNWITTINGLY MANIPULATED THE EXACT SAME WAY MORTY IS.

[amirasainz]

I read you "The greatest prank of all times" with ollie, I think it's wonderful. I was wondering if you could do another fiction of ollie and the reader actually getting pregnant on accident, and now they have to tell the grid, but none of them believe either of them at first because of the prank that they had pulled. If you can't do this, it's fine. Please and thank you!

Enjoy reading and send some requests!

- xoxo babygirl 💕

Part 1

Not a Prank anymore

It had been a week since Yn and Ollie found out the unexpected news. The small red cross on the pregnancy test had stared back at them like a secret that was too big to hide. They had spent the first few moments freaking out, pacing around the living room of their apartment, trying to process it all.

“I can’t believe it,” Yn whispered, still staring at the test as though it might change its answer. “This is… this is real, right?”

Ollie ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I don’t know. I thought I’d be ready for a family, but this is… It’s a lot to take in, Yn.”

The two of them had been together for just over a year now. Their relationship had started out as a sweet and simple romance, but a year ago, they had played a prank on their fellow drivers, telling them that Yn was pregnant. Everyone had believed it, and the jokes and teasing had flowed for weeks after. But this time? This time, it was real.

“So, what now?” Yn asked, looking up at Ollie with a soft smile.

Ollie paused, still trying to process the initial shock. He rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. “Well, we tell everyone, right? The drivers. They’re our family too.”

Yn nodded. “Let’s do it. But this time, it’s real.”

The living room was full of chatter and laughter as the drivers trickled into the apartment. The evening had started off like any other gathering: a relaxed dinner with their closest friends.

Charles and Carlos had already started talking about the latest race results, their usual friendly banter filling the air. Lando and Max were sitting on the couch, arguing about who had the better strategy in the last race, while Yuki and Franco were happily munching on their food. The table was loud, everyone in high spirits.

Kimi, who had been in on the news for the past week, sat in his usual spot, silently observing the chaos, a glass of wine in hand.

Yn sat next to Ollie, giving him a small, reassuring smile. She could feel her heart racing again, but this time, it was for a different reason. It wasn’t fear or anxiety; it was excitement. She could see Ollie was nervous too, but he kept giving her small glances, trying to keep himself calm.

“Are you ready for this?” Ollie whispered to her, his hand resting lightly on her knee.

Yn squeezed it, trying to calm her own racing thoughts. “Yeah. It’s time. Let’s do it.”

The dinner wound down, and soon, everyone was laughing and sharing stories of their latest misadventures in racing. Ollie and Yn exchanged a look and stood up, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Hey, guys,” Ollie said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves twisting in his stomach. “We need to talk to you about something. We’d like everyone to move into the living room.”

Charles, who had been in the middle of a heated debate with Lewis, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing bad,” Yn added quickly, “we just have some news to share. Please, everyone, if you could?”

The drivers all looked at each other, curious but trusting. They slowly made their way into the living room, taking seats on the couches or standing around, unsure of what was coming.

Once everyone had settled, Ollie and Yn stood together in the middle of the room, both looking a little nervous, but ready.

“Alright, we have something big to tell you all,” Yn began, glancing at Ollie for support.

Ollie nodded. “Yeah, so, um… we’re pregnant.”

The room went silent. The kind of silence that fills a space when no one really knows how to react.

At first, no one said anything. The drivers exchanged confused glances, unsure if this was another prank. After all, they had been the victims of one before.

Charles, trying to piece it together, squinted his eyes. “Wait, you’re… really? This is… this is a joke, right?”

Yn smiled nervously. “No, it’s not. We’re going to be parents.”

Max, still trying to process it, shook his head. “Are you serious?”

Yn held up the pregnancy test, still in its little plastic case, and handed it over to Kimi, who had already known. Kimi didn’t even flinch. Instead, he took a long sip from his wine, watching the others carefully.

Slowly, Charles took the test from Kimi’s hand, his eyes wide in disbelief. His mouth opened and closed as he looked back at Yn and Ollie.

“Oh my god,” Charles muttered, and in the next moment, he fainted.

The whole room erupted into chaos. Carlos rushed to his side, kneeling down beside him, a mix of concern and confusion on his face.

“Charles! Charles, wake up!” Carlos yelled, shaking him gently.

Franco stood there, frozen, then slowly looked over at Yn and Ollie. “Are you really…?”

Yn nodded, her eyes bright. “We are.”

Fernando, who had been quiet up until now, stepped forward, his face breaking into a smile. “This is amazing. Congratulations! You two are going to be great parents.”

Lando, who had been standing with his arms crossed, suddenly uncrossed them and stepped forward, a playful grin on his face. “Alright, this is no joke. But now that we know you’re serious… Can I have the number of your doctor? Just want to make sure everything’s good.”

The room went silent again. Everyone was staring at Lando, who seemed completely unfazed.

“You want the doctor’s number?” Ollie asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I’m just making sure we’re all good. I mean, you two are going to be parents, so you’ll need support. I want to make sure you’re getting the best care, yeah?”

Yn and Ollie exchanged a quick look, unsure if Lando was serious, but they couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, we’ll give you the number.”

Lando immediately pulled out his phone, making a quick call as if he was making sure everything was in order.

“Just wanted to help,” Lando muttered to no one in particular, a cheeky grin still on his face.

Yuki, who had been munching on his food, blinked up at everyone. “Wait, what baby? What’s going on?”

Carlos, still trying to revive Charles, glanced over at Yuki. “The baby, Yuki. They’re having a baby. Can’t you see the test?”

Yuki, still holding his fork, nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. That’s cool. Congrats.”

Franco clapped his hands together, a huge grin spreading across his face. “I’m so excited! You’re going to make such great parents. I know it.”

Max finally walked over to the couple, clapping Ollie on the shoulder with a smile. “Congratulations, mate. Seriously, that’s awesome.”

Lewis, who had been standing off to the side, crossed the room toward them with a warm smile. “This is big, you know. I’m proud of you two. You’ve got this. And I’ll always be here to help however I can.”

Yn smiled at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Lewis. That means a lot.”

And then there was Carlos, still holding Charles up and looking at the pair with a grin. “Congratulations. But seriously, Charles needs to wake up so I can finish congratulating you properly.”

Everyone laughed, the tension easing as they all gathered around Yn and Ollie, offering hugs, congratulations, and kind words. The couple stood together, feeling the warmth of their friends surrounding them, and in that moment, everything felt right.

Yes, they were young. Yes, they had no idea what the future held. But one thing was certain—they were ready for this next adventure. Together.

[propertyofwicked]

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

[rose24207]

An angel

Summary: guilt eats Lando alive when he wants to come clean to you after dating you for a bet. What he didn’t expect was that you would be so understanding and calm about it.

Genre: angst, fluff

Lando x f!reader

TW: Carlos and max being assholes (sryy), Lando too

A/N: I genuinely think that I would also react like this and I think that’s pretty much sums up the person I am :(

Masterlist pt. 2

It was supposed to be a joke. That’s what Lando told himself when it all started. A stupid, harmless joke that spiraled so far out of control, he found himself falling in love with you—only to be crushed by the weight of his own lie.

The bet was Carlos’ idea, though Max quickly joined in. They were sitting together at a bar in Monaco after a long day of training, laughing and teasing each other like they always did. That’s when you walked in, a vision of effortless beauty, with a smile so captivating even the loud music seemed to fade into the background.

Carlos noticed the way Lando’s gaze lingered on you. “You’re staring, mate,” he teased, nudging him.

Max smirked. “Bet you couldn’t get her number.”

Lando rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. “Easy.”

But Carlos upped the stakes. “Forget her number—bet you can’t get her to date you. Three months, minimum. Make her fall for you.”

Lando hesitated, but Max chimed in, grinning. “If you win, we’ll cover your next holiday. Private jet, five-star everything.”

Fueled by bravado, ego, and the lingering effects of too many drinks, Lando shook their hands, sealing the deal.

The plan was simple: charm you, date you for a while, and win the bet. But nothing about you was simple.

When he approached you that night, he expected the same predictable reactions he always got—flustered stammering or overly enthusiastic flirting. Instead, you met him with warmth and genuine curiosity, treating him like a regular guy rather than the celebrity everyone else saw.

He was hooked.

Every date with you felt like uncharted territory. You laughed at his dumb jokes, shared your dreams with him, and listened intently as he opened up about his fears and insecurities. For the first time in his life, Lando felt truly seen.

What started as a game quickly became the most important thing in his life. But the secret of how it began loomed over him, a constant reminder of his betrayal. He told himself he’d find the right time to come clean, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

And now, three months in, he was drowning in guilt.

It was a quiet evening in his Monaco apartment. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a magazine while he paced nervously in the kitchen. He had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in his head, but every scenario ended with you walking out the door.

“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice trembling.

You looked up, immediately sensing the tension. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his hands fidgeting.

You set the magazine aside, concern etching your features. “Of course. What’s going on?”

He sat down across from you, his heart pounding. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Your brows furrowed. “Okay…”

Lando took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you remember the night we met? At the bar?”

You nodded. “Of course. Why?”

“There’s… something I didn’t tell you about that night.” He hesitated, his stomach churning. “Carlos and Max… they made a bet with me. They bet I couldn’t get you to date me for three months. And I…” He swallowed hard, his eyes welling up. “I took the bet.”

Your expression froze, the weight of his words sinking in. “A bet?”

He nodded, his voice breaking. “At first, it was just stupid. I didn’t think it would matter. But then I got to know you, and everything changed. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. I swear, this—us—became real so quickly. But I lied to you, and I hate myself for it.”

Silence filled the room as you processed his confession. He braced himself for the anger, the heartbreak, the inevitable goodbye.

But what came next surprised him.

You reached out, taking his trembling hands in yours. “Lando,” you began gently, your voice calm but steady. “Thank you for telling me.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not… angry?”

“I won’t lie,” you admitted. “It hurts to know how it started. But what matters more to me is that you told me the truth. You didn’t let me find out from someone else, and I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he shook his head. “It wasn’t. I’ve been so scared of losing you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I had to tell you. You deserve better than this.”

You squeezed his hands, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Lando, everyone makes mistakes. What matters is what you do after. You could’ve kept lying, but you didn’t. You chose honesty, even though it scared you. That says a lot.”

“I love you,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I love you so much. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. “I love you too. And I believe you. I believe in us.”

His breath hitched as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like you were his lifeline. “You’re an angel,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re too good for me.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m not an angel, Lando. I’m just someone who loves you enough to see the good in you, even when you make mistakes.”

From that moment on, things changed. Lando became a man on a mission, determined to show you how much he valued you. He went out of his way to make you feel loved and appreciated—surprising you with thoughtful gestures, supporting your dreams, and being more open and vulnerable than ever before.

The guilt still lingered, but your forgiveness gave him the strength to move forward. And as time passed, the scars of the bet faded, replaced by a love that was stronger than ever.

Because at the end of the day, love wasn’t about never making mistakes. It was about owning up to them, learning from them, and choosing each other—no matter what.

And as Lando held you close that night, he silently vowed to never take your love for granted again. You weren’t just the best thing that had ever happened to him—you were his everything.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[winwintea]

tetris

PAIRING ↬ gamer!park jisung x fem!reader (feat. zhong chenle)

TAGS ↬ fluff, action, romance, some angst, hidden feelings, 80s au, video game competitions, unrequited love or so he thought, best friend's girlfriend trope, winwin shows up randomly i love you my winsung anon

SUMMARY ↬ living up to the pressures of becoming a famous tetris player might be hard for a guy like park jisung. but it's much more difficult when the girl he’s got a crush on may actually be his best friend's girlfriend.

WORD COUNT ↬ 10.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ happy birthday queen @viasdreams !!! hope you enjoy as much as i had writing this (i suffered) and thank you to @polarisjisung for usual for being my beta reader <33. also i know tetris came out late 80s and was popular during the early 90s too but for aesthetic purposes im saying 80s

PLAYLIST ↬ saturday night - bay city rollers; tetoris - hiiragi magnetite; jessie’s girl - rick springfield; working for the weekend - loverboy; shoot to thrill - ac/dc; don’t play games - martin jensen; i’m still standing - elton john; cherry bomb - the runaways; hold on tight - aespa; one way or another - blondie; i ran - a flock of seagulls; choose your fighter - ava max

THE FIRST TIME PARK JISUNG PLACED HIS HANDS ON AN ARCADE MACHINE, HE WAS HOOKED.

When he felt the rough texture of the joystick, he felt a tremor in his chest. It wasn’t fear, nor excitement, but something in between. The flicker of the screen pulled him into a world he didn’t yet understand but felt desperate to explore.

The arcade around him was alive, buzzing with the electric hum of machines, the crash of digital waves, and the clatter of coins. Yet, in this moment, all the chaos faded into one singular thing: the falling blocks on the screen.

His fingers hovered over the controls, trembling. When they pressed down, the buttons responded with a slight resistance that grounded him, pulled him into the world on the screen. The joystick was smoother than he expected, gliding under his unsure grip. The first piece—a long, yellow bar—fell into place. Then another. And another.

For Jisung, the world seemed to shift with each line he cleared. These weren’t just blocks; they were each a piece of himself, shifting and rearranging to fit into something bigger. Each ping from the machine was a quiet reassurance, telling him that for once, he was doing something right.

The weight of his usual insecurities were being lifted, then replaced by an unfamiliar confidence. His heart raced, not from anxiety but from a kind of joy he didn’t think he was allowed to feel. This machine didn’t care about how shy he was, how awkward his words sounded, or how he tended to shrink away when the world got too loud. All it asked was that he see the shapes, find the patterns, and keep going.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he’d found something. A purpose.

Jisung didn’t think of himself as anything special, and most of the time, neither did anyone else. He was the kind of person who slipped into a room without making a sound, his lanky frame perpetually hunched as if apologizing for taking up space. His dark hair often fell into his eyes, a convenient shield against the world’s attention. At school, he was known only as “that tall, quiet kid.” Teachers liked him for his politeness. Classmates tolerated him for his unobtrusiveness.

His best friend, Chenle, was the exact opposite. The sun to Jisung’s shadow, always shining and dragging Jisung into the light whether he wanted it or not. When Jisung hesitated, Chenle jumped in headfirst, loud and full of laughter. Their friendship didn’t make sense to most people, least of all Jisung, but somehow it worked.

“C’mon, slowpoke!” Chenle called over his shoulder, his voice easily cutting through the noise of the crowded street. “Pixel Haven’s gonna get packed if you don’t move!”

Jisung trailed a few steps behind, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Friday nights at the arcade were a tradition Chenle had started months ago, and Jisung tagged along because… well, because it was Chenle. He didn’t really play the games. Watching Chenle dominate the machines or charm the employees was enough for him.

Pixel Haven came into view, its neon sign glowing pink and blue against the dim evening sky. Inside, the arcade was a sensory overload of flashing lights, cheerful 8-bit melodies, and the unmistakable clink of coins being fed into machines.

Chenle pushed open the door, holding it wide. “Hurry up, man! They got a new game in!”

Jisung shuffled inside, his head immediately dropping down to look at his sneakers. Even though the arcade was bustling with busy teenagers, he felt like every pair of eyes could land on him at any moment. He stuck close to Chenle, who bounded ahead like an excited puppy.

The arcade was Chenle’s kingdom. He knew everyone. He always high-fived the regulars, playfully bantered with his street fighter competitors, and was always trying to introduce someone to Jisung. But Jisung was content being a silent observer, finding a quiet corner to lean against while Chenle made his rounds.

Unfortunately for Jisung, Chenle had other plans.

“Hey, Jisung, check this out!” Chenle pointed to the brand new Tetris machine, it’s screen cycling through vividly colored blocks. “Bet you’d be good at this.”

Jisung blinked at the machine, his lanky frame stiffening as if the suggestion were a spotlight being aimed at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Before Jisung could protest, Chenle shoved a quarter into his hand and practically dragged him toward the machine. The crowd around it thinned slightly, making space as Chenle announced, “Alright, people, make way for my boy here. Jisung’s about to show you how it’s done.”

Jisung’s ears burned as a few heads turned toward him. He could already feel the weight of their eyes, his anxiety prickling at the edges of his mind. “Chenle, I—”

“Stop overthinking,” Chenle interrupted, patting his shoulder. “Just play. I promise, you’ll love it.”

Jisung stared at the glowing screen. The cheerful music beckoned him, the falling shapes almost hypnotic. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, sliding the quarter into the slot. The machine chimed, and the first piece appeared at the top of the screen.

Although this was his first time, the controls felt familiar. The buttons responded with a satisfying click to his every touch, the joystick smooth under his palm. He hesitated for a split second before rotating the first piece and sending it down. It clicked into place.

Then another piece came, and another. His fingers moved instinctively, rotating, shifting, dropping. The lines started clearing, one after the other, and the game's upbeat sounds grew more frequent.

The world around him faded, the noise of the arcade blending into a dull hum. His focus sharpened, each piece fitting perfectly into a strategy that seemed to form effortlessly in his mind. Shapes became patterns, and patterns became solutions.

“Holy shit. He’s actually good,” someone murmured behind him.

“Good? Are you kidding? He’s crushing it!” Chenle exclaimed, his voice cutting through the growing excitement.

Jisung didn’t register their words, his eyes fixed on the screen. The pace quickened, the pieces falling faster, but he kept up. His long fingers danced over the controls, rotating pieces with precision and dropping them into place. A four-line clear flashed on the screen—a Tetris—and the small crowd erupted into cheers.

Jisung blinked, momentarily snapping out of his trance. He looked over his shoulder, startled by the group that had formed behind him. Chenle was at the front, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Keep going!” Chenle yelled. “You’re on fire!”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jisung’s lips, the rare feeling of pride warming his chest. He turned back to the game, determined to see how far he could go.

For the next few minutes, Jisung played like he was in a world of his own, the lines stacking and clearing in rapid succession. When the inevitable “Game Over” finally flashed on the screen, a ripple of applause broke out behind him.

Jisung stepped back, his cheeks flushed, his heart racing. Chenle clapped him on the back, his laugh loud and contagious. “What did I tell you? Tetris wiz, right here!”

Jisung glanced at the score on the screen—higher than he’d expected, but the number barely mattered. For the first time, he felt like he belonged, like he’d found something he was actually good at.

And judging by the awed looks from the small crowd, they thought so too.

Jisung didn’t know much about you, other than the obvious. You worked the counter at Pixel Haven most nights, moving between tasks with effortless ease. Always handing out quarters, fixing the occasional glitchy machine, and keeping the arcade running smoothly. And, of course, you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That part was impossible to miss.

Chenle had introduced you once, casually slinging his arm around your shoulders as he bragged about beating the high score on Galaga. Jisung remembered offering a small, awkward wave while you smiled politely, your attention more on Chenle than him. Since then, you’d only been a background presence, someone Jisung saw but never really thought about.

Until tonight.

He’d run out of quarters after his third Tetris run and found himself lingering near the counter, clutching a few crumpled bills in his clammy hands. Chenle was off challenging someone at Street Fighter again, leaving Jisung on his own.

You were busy at the counter, sorting a handful of tokens while chatting with another customer. The neon glow from the sign above cast soft shadows across your face, and for a moment, Jisung hesitated. Asking you for change felt… strange. You weren’t just the person behind the counter. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. That fact alone made this simple interaction feel like crossing some unspoken line.

But he needed quarters, so he shuffled forward, his head down, and placed the bills on the counter.

You looked up, and for the first time, your eyes met his directly. “Oh, hey,” you said, your voice light and friendly. “Need some quarters?”

He froze, the words stuck in his throat. You were smiling. Warmly, like you genuinely wanted to help. Jisung nodded, sliding the bills closer to you.

You took them, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment as you counted out the quarters. “Here you go,” you said, placing them into his outstretched hand. “Good luck out there.”

That smile. It wasn’t just a gesture. It felt different, even if Jisung knew it probably wasn’t. You were like this with everyone, weren’t you? Friendly, approachable, easygoing. It was why Chenle liked you so much.

But still, Jisung felt something shift inside him. Your smile lingered in his mind as he turned away, clutching the quarters tightly in his fist. His chest tightened, but not with the usual pang of nerves. Instead, it was with something he couldn’t quite name.

It was strange, the way that tiny moment replayed in his head as he walked back to the Tetris machine. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. You were just being nice, just doing your job.

But as the night wore on, Jisung found himself glancing toward the counter more often than he meant to. He tried not to think too much about it, but something small and misshapen had taken root in his chest, fragile but undeniably there.

You were Chenle’s girlfriend. He barely knew you. And yet, your kindness had left a mark he couldn’t ignore.

The arcade quickly became Jisung’s second home. Every chance he got—between school, homework, and the occasional group hangout he reluctantly attended—he found himself back at Pixel Haven.

At first, it was a way to pass the time, a distraction from the things that weighed him down. But soon, Tetris became more than that. The falling blocks weren’t just shapes anymore; they were puzzles waiting to be solved, challenges daring him to do better, to think faster. He didn’t just play the game—he immersed himself in it, memorizing patterns, calculating strategies, and finding a strange sense of peace in the rhythmic clearing of lines.

The change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Dude, you’re, like, a full-blown Tetris addict now,” Chenle teased one night, leaning casually against the machine as Jisung started yet another round. His hands were full of snacks he’d grabbed from the counter, and his grin was as wide as ever. “I should start calling you ‘The Tetris Wizard or ‘TetWiz’ for short”.

Jisung flushed, his long fingers hovering over the controls as the pieces began to fall. “I’m not that good,” he muttered, barely audible over the hum of the arcade.

“Are you kidding me?” Chenle laughed, nearly spilling his soda. “You’re insane at this. Like, next-level insane. You’ve got the whole crowd thing going on, too.”

Jisung paused mid-game, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, a few regulars had gathered nearby, casually watching his progress. Their murmured admiration sent a wave of heat to his cheeks.

Chenle clapped him on the back. “See? WizKid status.” He took a swig of his drink, then grinned mischievously. “Hey, you know what? There’s a tournament coming up. Local thing. You should totally enter.”

The words hit Jisung like a truck. No, like someone dropped a T-piece on his head. He fumbled with the joystick, sending a block spiraling into the wrong position. “What? No. No way.”

“Why not?” Chenle’s voice rose in playful disbelief. “You’ve been killing it lately. This is your chance to show everyone how good you are. Plus, think of the bragging rights. I’ll tell everyone I trained you.”

Jisung’s heart pounded, the idea of playing in front of a crowd making his palms sweat. He’d barely gotten used to the small groups that gathered at the arcade. A tournament meant real attention. Real pressure.

“I… I don’t think I can,” he stammered, his gaze fixed on the screen.

Chenle rolled his eyes but didn’t push. “Alright, alright. Baby steps, TetWiz. But think about it, okay? You’d crush it.”

Jisung nodded absently, but the thought lingered long after Chenle wandered off to bother someone else. A tournament? It seemed impossible, unthinkable. Yet, as he continued to play, clearing line after line with growing precision, a small, persistent voice in the back of his mind whispered something different: What if you could?

The flyer for the Pixel Haven Tetris Tournament taunted Jisung from his desk, its bright colors and bold letters shouting promises of prizes, glory, and recognition. He’d stared at it for days, the weight of Chenle’s encouragement and your casual, kind words tipping the scales of his indecision.

“You’d do great,” you’d said just a few nights ago when Chenle joked about Jisung’s reluctance. There wasn’t much to your comment—just a simple smile as you slid quarters across the counter. But it stuck with him, a quiet nudge in the direction he wasn’t sure he could take.

When he finally signed up, his hand trembled so much he nearly misspelled his own name.

The tournament day arrived far too quickly. Pixel Haven was louder than ever, filled with spectators and players buzzing with excitement. The Tetris machine had been moved to the center of the arcade, its screen glowing like a beacon under the dim, colorful lights.

Jisung stood at the edge of the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. His palms were clammy, his legs stiff, and every sound around him felt amplified—quarters clinking, machines chiming, people shouting.

Chenle found him near the snack counter, looking pale and uneasy. “Hey, TetWiz,” he said, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “Don’t psych yourself out. You’ve got this.”

Jisung shook his head, barely able to meet Chenle’s gaze. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course, you can!” Chenle’s voice was loud, confident, and exactly what Jisung wished he could feel. “You’re the best player here. No one’s even close. Just… pretend it’s like any other Friday night.”

“Except with an even bigger crowd watching,” Jisung muttered under his breath.

At that moment, you appeared, slipping out from behind the counter to join Chenle. Your presence was calm, grounding. “You’ve got this,” you said simply, your eyes meeting Jisung’s.

His stomach twisted. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. 

Off-limits. 

But your words carried a strange weight, one that settled the storm in his chest just enough.

The tournament began. Jisung’s hands trembled as he approached the machine, the controls suddenly feeling unfamiliar under his fingers. The room seemed to close in around him as the first piece appeared on the screen.

The opening rounds blurred together, a mix of adrenaline and fear propelling him forward. Each cleared line earned cheers from the crowd, but Jisung barely registered them. His focus tunneled in on the screen, every move a desperate attempt to keep the pieces from piling too high.

By the time he reached the finals, his nerves were raw, his breaths shallow. Chenle stood nearby, shouting encouragement, and you offered a quiet thumbs-up that somehow cut through the noise.

The final match was intense. His opponent was fast, their moves sharp and deliberate. The pieces fell faster than ever, the music speeding up to a frenetic pace that matched Jisung’s racing heart.

You can do this, he told himself, gripping the joystick tightly. He visualized the patterns, the strategies he’d practiced endlessly. The lines cleared one after another, the Tetris flashes lighting up the screen.

When the final piece fell into place, and the victory chime rang out, the room erupted into cheers. Jisung blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

“You did it!” Chenle shouted, throwing an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “First place, TetWiz! I told you!”

Jisung stared at the screen, his name flashing in bold letters at the top of the leaderboard. His hands shook—not with fear, but with something new. Pride.

You approached him, your smile soft and genuine. “Congratulations, Jisung. That was amazing.”

He swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. But as the applause continued and the weight of the moment settled in, something shifted inside him. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, he was capable of more.

Jisung wasn’t sure when it started. The way his chest tightened whenever you were near, or how your smile lingered in his thoughts. Maybe it was during one of those small, fleeting moments when you actually listened to him. Not the way most people did, with polite nods and half-hearted attention, but really listened.

You never looked bored or impatient when he talked. Never when he stumbled over his words trying to explain a tricky T-spin maneuver or the satisfaction of a perfectly timed Tetris. Instead, you leaned on the counter, your eyes warm and curious, asking questions that made him feel like his passion wasn’t just valid but worth sharing.

And that was the problem.

Because as much as he admired you, as much as his chest filled with warmth during those rare conversations, there was always Chenle. Loud, confident, and so completely your match.

Jisung couldn’t deny it: Chenle made you laugh in a way that lit up the whole room. He’d see you together. Your arm looped through Chenle’s, his jokes drawing out those bright, unrestrained giggles. All of it felt like a sharp, twisting ache in his chest.

He hated the feeling. The guilt. The jealousy.

Chenle was his best friend, the person who dragged him out of his shell, cheered him on, and believed in him when he barely believed in himself. And you—kind, patient, radiant—you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That was the unshakable truth.

So Jisung did the only thing he could think of to cope. He played tetris.

Hours at Pixel Haven turned into entire evenings, his focus narrowing to the Tetris machine like it was his lifeline. The rhythm of the game, the familiar patterns and strategies, became his escape. When the blocks fell into place, clearing line after line, the noise in his head quieted.

He didn’t have to think about the way his heart raced when you smiled at him or the pang of envy when you rested your head on Chenle’s shoulder.

Chenle noticed, of course. “Man, you’re really going hard lately,” he said one night, watching Jisung rack up yet another high score. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re basically a celebrity here now.”

Jisung forced a smile, his hands tightening around the joystick. “Just… trying to get better.”

Chenle didn’t press further, but Jisung could feel his gaze shift, a flicker of concern hidden behind his usual grin.

And then there was you.

Sometimes, you’d wander over to the Tetris machine during a quiet moment at the counter, watching him play with that same patient interest that made his heart ache.

“You’re amazing at this,” you’d say, your voice soft and genuine.

And Jisung would mumble a shy thank you, barely able to meet your gaze. He wondered if you noticed how fast his hands moved on the controls when you were nearby, or how the screen blurred just slightly because his focus wavered.

He told himself it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. You were Chenle’s, and he had no right to feel the way he did.

So he buried it, block by block, line by line, throwing himself deeper into the game as if sheer determination could erase the feelings growing stronger with every interaction.

But no matter how many lines he cleared, the ache in his chest remained.

Chenle wasn’t the type to dwell on things. He lived in the moment, taking life as it came, confident and carefree. But lately, something about Jisung had been bothering him.

It wasn’t just the obsessive way Jisung threw himself into Tetris, though that was part of it. Chenle had always known Jisung to be shy and focused, but lately, he seemed… different. Distracted. Like his thoughts were someplace—or with someone—else.

And then there were the looks.

Chenle didn’t want to read too much into it, but he’d caught Jisung’s gaze more than once when you were around. At first, he brushed it off. Jisung was awkward around everyone—why would this be any different? But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

One night, after another long session at Pixel Haven, Chenle finally decided he couldn’t keep quiet.

Jisung was hunched over the Tetris machine, his face illuminated by the screen’s soft glow. The arcade was quieter than usual, most of the crowd having thinned out as the evening wore on. Chenle approached with his usual grin, though this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, TetWiz,” he said casually, leaning against the side of the machine. “Taking over the world one line at a time?”

Jisung glanced at him, his hands never leaving the controls. “Something like that,” he mumbled.

Chenle studied him for a moment, his grin fading. “You know,” he began, his tone light but laced with something sharper, “you’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”

Jisung’s fingers faltered, and the game over screen flashed before he could recover. He let out a quiet sigh, stepping back from the machine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chenle said, crossing his arms, “you’ve been avoiding me, for one. And for another… I’ve noticed the way you look at her.”

Jisung froze, his heart sinking. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb, Jisung. You think I haven’t seen it? The way you watch her when you think no one’s looking? How you act all nervous when she’s around? Come on, man. You’re my best friend. If there’s something going on, just tell me.”

Panic surged in Jisung’s chest. He shook his head quickly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “There’s nothing going on,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about her.”

Chenle’s eyes narrowed, his usual easy going demeanor slipping away. That wasn’t what he was suspecting. He actually thought you had said something to Jisung that made him uncomfortable. But having feelings for you? Chenle forgot that was even an option. He suddenly felt a surge of jealousy. “Jisung, I’m not stupid. I know you better than anyone.”

“I don’t!” Jisung’s voice rose slightly, the desperation clear. “I—I swear, Chenle. It’s not like that.”

The tension hung heavy between them, the arcade’s neon lights casting sharp shadows across their faces.

Chenle exhaled slowly, his expression softening just a little. “Look, I trust her, okay? I trust you. But if there’s something you’re not telling me… just be honest. Don’t let this mess things up.”

Jisung’s throat tightened, guilt clawing at his insides. He wanted to tell the truth, to admit the feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But the fear of losing Chenle—his best friend, his biggest supporter—was too much to bear.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said quietly, his hands clenched at his sides.

Chenle studied him for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his posture remained. “Alright. If you say so.”

But as he walked away, leaving Jisung alone by the Tetris machine, the rift between them felt wider than ever.

For the first time in years, Jisung wasn’t sure if Chenle still believed in him—or if he even believed in himself.

The state Tetris championship was a dream Jisung never dared to dream. And now, as his name sat proudly on the qualifying list, it felt more like a nightmare.

The arcade was quiet that night, the usual hum of voices replaced by the occasional beep of a forgotten pinball machine. Jisung sat slumped on a bench near the Tetris machine, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across his face. His hands fidgeted with the crumpled flyer announcing the championships, the bold letters seeming to mock him.

State Champion. The words felt impossibly big, like they belonged to someone else.

The weight of it all—the expectations, the pressure, the growing distance between him and Chenle—pressed down on him like a heavy block he couldn’t clear. His chest felt tight, his thoughts spiraling in an endless loop of self-doubt.

He didn’t even hear you approach.

“You okay?”

Your voice was soft, cutting through the quiet like a gentle melody. Jisung jumped, his head snapping up to see you standing nearby, concern etched across your features.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

You didn’t buy it. Instead, you sat down on the bench beside him, leaving just enough space to respect his shyness. You glanced at the flyer in his hands, then back at him.

“It’s a big deal, huh?” you said, your tone light but understanding.

Jisung hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s too big,” he admitted quietly. “I… I don’t think I can do it.”

The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was telling you this. Maybe it was the way you always seemed to listen without judgment, or the way your presence felt steady and safe.

You tilted your head, your eyes warm. “Why not?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because… because what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down? Chenle’s been calling me a ‘wizard,’ hyping me up to everyone. People actually watch me now, like I’m supposed to be… someone. But I’m not. I’m just…”

“Jisung,” you finished gently.

He nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah. Just Jisung. And I don’t think just Jisung is good enough for this.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything. The hum of the arcade filled the silence, a soft, steady rhythm that seemed to match his unsteady breathing.

Then, you leaned forward, your voice quiet but firm. “You know, when I watch you play, it’s not just about the score or the tournament or any of that. It’s the way you light up when you’re in the zone, like nothing else matters. It’s like… you’re in your own world, and it’s incredible to see.”

Jisung blinked, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“You don’t have to know right now,” you said with a small smile. “But Jisung, this isn’t about being a wizard or a champion or whatever anyone else thinks. It’s about you. Your love for this game, your talent. That’s what matters. Not winning. Just you doing what you love.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. Jisung’s heart raced as your words lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a lifeline. He hadn’t expected you to understand him so completely, let alone say the exact thing he needed to hear.

For a brief moment, he forgot about everything else. The tournament, the pressure, even Chenle. All he could focus on was you. The warmth in your voice, the way you looked at him like he was someone worth believing in.

The weight in his chest shifted, and before he knew it, his thoughts spilled over.

“I—” He paused, the words catching in his throat.

You tilted your head, curious but patient, your expression inviting him to continue.

He could feel it, the overwhelming urge to tell you. To say something, anything, about the way he felt—the way you made him feel. How his heart ached and soared all at once whenever you were near.

But then, just as quickly, reality crashed back in.

Chenle. His best friend. Your boyfriend.

Jisung swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much his heart screamed at him to say the truth, he couldn’t betray Chenle like that.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his voice barely steady. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. For, you know… everything.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, as if sensing that he wasn’t ready to say more. “Anytime,” you replied, standing up to head back to the counter.

Jisung watched you go, his chest heavy with unspoken words. He let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching the crumpled flyer in his lap.

But he wasn’t the only one watching.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Chenle stood near the doorway, hidden by the dim light and arcade cabinets. He had arrived just moments ago, intending to meet Jisung and hang out like they always did. But instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, watching the two of you.

At first, it didn’t seem like much—just a quiet conversation between friends. But the way Jisung looked at you… it wasn’t hard for Chenle to see what was really going on.

It wasn’t the look of someone simply grateful for support. It was something deeper, more vulnerable. Something Chenle had never seen in Jisung before.

His chest tightened, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He wasn’t angry—not yet. But there was a pang of something sharp and unfamiliar, like jealousy’s distant cousin.

He trusted you, and he trusted Jisung. But trust didn’t erase what he had just seen.

Chenle stepped back into the shadows, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t shake the image of Jisung’s expression—the way his gaze lingered on you, filled with something Chenle couldn’t quite name but knew wasn’t meant for him.

For the first time, Chenle felt uncertain. About Jisung. About you. About everything.

And as he walked away from the arcade that night, the unspoken tension between the three of you began to grow, pulling tighter with each passing moment.

The auditorium buzzed with energy, the hum of anticipation vibrating through the air as rows of arcade cabinets lined the stage, each boasting the Tetris logo in bright neon. Competitors adjusted their machines, the crowd murmured excitedly, and Jisung stood frozen at the edge of it all, feeling impossibly small.

The state Tetris championship. He was really here.

Jisung’s stomach churned, his nerves nearly overtaking him. He gripped the strap of his backpack, his fingers twitching with a restless energy. His mind wasn’t just crowded with thoughts of the game but with everything else—Chenle, you, the weight of unspoken feelings.

Before he could spiral any further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

Jisung blinked and turned to see a tall, relaxed guy about a few years older standing next to him. The stranger held a can of pop, his messy hair framing a face that somehow managed to look both half-asleep and mildly curious.

“I—uh…” Jisung stammered, caught off guard.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” the stranger said bluntly, taking a sip of his pop. “Big deal tournament jitters?”

Jisung hesitated, but something about the guy’s laid-back demeanor made him exhale a little. “Yeah, kind of,” he admitted.

“Let me guess,” the stranger said, leaning against a nearby wall. “Scared you’ll lose? Or scared you’ll win and, like, your entire life will change forever?”

“Both,” Jisung muttered.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Yeah, fair. Tetris is wild like that.”

Something about his casual tone loosened Jisung’s tongue. Before he knew it, he was rambling.

“It’s not just the game,” he confessed, the words tumbling out. “It’s everything else. My best friend…he’s been supporting me, but I think I’ve messed things up between us. And then there’s this girl…” His voice trailed off, his ears burning.

The stranger tilted his head. “Oh, so it’s love and Tetris. Double whammy.”

Jisung winced. “I don’t know what to do. I like her, but she’s with my best friend, and I feel like the worst person in the world. And now I’m here, and I’m supposed to play like none of this matters, but it does.”

The stranger stared at him for a moment, then sighed, setting down his soda. “Okay, look. I’m not great at advice, but here’s what I’ve got: You’re not gonna fix your love life today. But this tournament? It’s yours. You’ve got one job—play your absolute fucking best. Worry about the rest later.”

Jisung blinked, the simplicity of the advice sinking in. “That’s it?” 

“Yep.” The stranger smirked. “Oh, and maybe stop thinking about her for like, five seconds while you play. Otherwise, you’ll never clear a line.”

Despite himself, Jisung let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks, uh…”

“Sicheng,” the guy said, giving a small wave before walking off with his soda.

Jisung stood there for a moment, the stranger’s words echoing in his head. One job. Play your absolute fucking best.

The announcement of his name jolted him back to reality. Heart pounding, he made his way to the stage, the crowd’s cheers swelling around him.

He spotted Chenle instantly, standing in the front row and waving wildly, his energy uncontainable. “Go, TetWiz!” Chenle yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.

Jisung’s chest tightened. Despite everything, the tension, the doubts, Chenle was still there, cheering him on.

And then he saw you, standing beside Chenle. Your smile was quieter, softer, but it carried the same weight of belief that you’d shown him back at Pixel Haven. Your eyes met his, and you gave a small, encouraging nod.

Jisung took a deep breath, his hands gripping the controls as he sat down.

The countdown began.

Three.

The noise of the crowd faded away.

Two.

His fingers hovered over the buttons, his mind sharpening to a single point of focus.

One.

Play your absolute fucking best.

The game began, the familiar shapes dropping from the top of the screen like old friends. His nervousness melted away as he found his rhythm, the blocks slotting into place with satisfying precision.

The crowd roared as he cleared line after line, the tension building with each level. But Jisung didn’t hear it. For the first time in weeks, his mind was clear, his focus solely on the game.

This wasn’t about Chenle, or you, or even the title. This was about Jisung—the quiet boy who found a spark of something extraordinary in the chaos of falling blocks.

Then the final round began, and the stakes had never felt higher. Jisung sat at the machine, his hands steady but his heart pounding as the screen lit up with the familiar grid. Across from him, his opponent—a seasoned Tetris player with years of experience—cracked their knuckles, exuding a calm confidence that only added to Jisung’s nerves.

The crowd quieted as the final countdown began again.

Three.

Jisung tightened his grip on the joystick.

Two.

His gaze locked on the screen, blocking out everything else.

One.

The pieces started to fall, faster than in any game he’d played before. The early levels felt manageable, his fingers moving on autopilot as he cleared lines with precision. But as the speed increased, so did the tension.

His opponent was good. Better than anyone Jisung had ever faced. They kept pace with him, their screen just as clear, their movements just as calculated. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was a test of endurance, strategy, and nerves.

The minutes stretched on, each line cleared pushing Jisung further into uncharted territory. His heart raced as he reached the kill screen level—the point where the game’s speed maxed out, and most players couldn’t keep up.

Most players.

Jisung’s vision narrowed, his world shrinking to the grid in front of him. His fingers danced over the controls, rotating and dropping pieces with a precision that felt almost otherworldly. The crowd was a distant roar, his opponent a vague shadow in his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t thinking anymore; he was flowing.

When the final piece dropped into place, clearing a line and bringing his score to a record-breaking high, the machine emitted a triumphant chime.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the auditorium erupted.

The crowd leaped to their feet, cheering and clapping, the noise echoing off the walls. Lights flashed, cameras clicked, and Jisung sat there, stunned, as the reality of what he’d just accomplished began to sink in.

He’d won.

Not just the championship, but something deeper. For the first time, Jisung felt the rush of pride, not just for the victory but for the journey that had brought him here.

Chenle’s voice cut through the chaos, louder than anyone else’s. “You did it, Ji! He fucking did it!”

Jisung turned to see his best friend grinning so widely it looked like his face might split in two. Despite the tension between them, Chenle’s joy was pure and infectious.

And then his eyes found you.

You weren’t shouting or jumping like the others, but the pride in your expression was unmistakable. You clapped along with the crowd, your smile warm and genuine as your gaze met his.

Jisung’s chest swelled, the mix of emotions nearly overwhelming. He stood slowly, his legs shaky, and accepted the medal from the tournament official with trembling hands. The announcer declared his name, calling him a prodigy, a champion, but none of it felt as real as the faces in the crowd—Chenle, you, and everyone who had supported him.

As the applause continued, Jisung looked back at the Tetris screen, now frozen on his record-breaking score. For the first time, he saw himself not as “just Jisung,” but as someone capable of achieving something extraordinary.

The crowd had finally begun to disperse, the cheers fading into the background as competitors and spectators alike spilled out into the night. Jisung stayed behind, lingering near the now-quiet Tetris machine. His medal hung heavy around his neck, a tangible reminder that this wasn’t just a dream.

He turned the medal over in his hands, his mind still reeling. He should have been basking in the glow of his victory, but his thoughts kept circling back to you. How your smile had stood out even among the applause. How your quiet presence had kept him grounded.

“Jisung?”

Your voice startled him, and he looked up to see you standing a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket. The faint hum of the arcade machines illuminated your face in soft, flickering light.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer, your gaze falling on the medal around his neck. “Congratulations,” you said, your smile warm but understated, as though you understood he wasn’t one for grand celebrations. “You were incredible out there.”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks. I… I still can’t believe it.”

“You should,” you replied, your tone gentle but firm. “You worked so hard for this. You deserve it.”

The sincerity in your voice sent a wave of emotion through him, and he found himself meeting your eyes. For a moment, everything else fell away. The noise of the arcade, the lingering spectators, even Chenle.

“It means a lot,” he murmured, “that you were here.”

You smiled softly, stepping even closer. “Of course I was. I wasn’t going to miss this. You’re… special, Jisung. You have something really rare. Not just your talent, but the way you put your heart into everything you do.”

Your words hit him like a gentle but powerful wave, and for the first time, Jisung felt like you saw him, not as Chenle’s shy best friend, not as the Tetris Wizard, but as him.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he reached up and touched the medal lightly, as if offering it to you.

“This… it’s not just mine,” he said quietly. “You helped me get here. You believed in me when I didn’t.”

You shook your head, your smile deepening. “That was all you, Jisung. I just… reminded you what you already knew.”

The air between you shifted, the unspoken feelings thickening the silence. It wasn’t the boisterous, high-energy dynamic you had with Chenle. It was quieter, steadier, like a river carving its way through stone.

You reached out then, your fingers brushing his lightly as you adjusted the medal around his neck. The small, intimate gesture sent his heart racing, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re going to do even greater things,” you said softly, your voice carrying a certainty that made his chest ache.

For a fleeting moment, Jisung thought about telling you everything. Telling you how much he cared for you, and how much this moment meant to him. But he stopped himself, the memory of Chenle’s unwavering cheers still fresh in his mind.

Instead, he held your gaze and said, “Thanks. For… everything.”

Your smile lingered as you stepped back, leaving a small but undeniable space between you. “You’ve got this, Jisung. Don’t forget that.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, the warmth of your touch still buzzing on his skin.

Jisung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his hands brushing the medal around his neck. His feelings for you weren’t just a crush. They were something deeper, something that scared and exhilarated him in equal measure.

But for now, he would hold onto the moment, replaying your words in his mind like his favorite song.

As you disappeared into the crowd, Jisung stayed rooted to the spot, the medal’s weight now feeling symbolic of something much heavier. His fingers grazed the cool metal, his thoughts swirling in an uncontrollable storm.

He should have felt elated, on top of the world. And part of him did. But the other part felt like he was standing on the edge of something far scarier than any Tetris grid.

She believes in me. She sees me.

The thought filled him with a quiet joy, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Chenle had been there too, cheering the loudest, always his most loyal supporter. And Chenle was your boyfriend.

Jisung closed his eyes, trying to silence the war inside him. How could he feel this way about you while knowing it wasn’t his place? He’d spent years being the guy who didn’t take up space, who stayed on the sidelines, who let others shine. Was it selfish to want something or someone so badly now?

“Hey, champ.”

The voice startled Jisung, jerking him out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see the familiar figure of Sicheng standing a few feet away.

“I, uh…” Jisung stammered, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Didn’t know you were still here.”

Sicheng shrugged, “Yeah, well, figured I’d stick around and see how the hero handles his post-victory glow. Looks like you’re more ‘existential crisis’ than ‘glow,’ though.”

Jisung blinked, unsure whether to laugh or deny it. “It’s… complicated,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping.

Sicheng nodded as if he understood completely. “Love and Tetris, man. Both are way harder than they look.”

Jisung couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I didn’t say it was about that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sicheng grinned, leaning against a nearby arcade machine. “You’ve got that look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m hopelessly in love and it’s ruining my life.’”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone as wise and experienced as me,” Sicheng said, his tone deadpan.

Jisung peeked at him through his fingers. “What would you do, then? If you were me?”

Sicheng tilted his head thoughtfully, “I’d probably mess it up completely, to be honest. But here’s the thing—you’re not me. You’ve already done the hard part. You put yourself out there tonight. You faced something scary and came out on top. Maybe it’s time you do the same with… other things.”

Jisung frowned, the words sinking in. “But what if it goes wrong? What if I lose what I already have?”

Sicheng shrugged. “Maybe you will. Or maybe you won’t. But if you keep letting fear decide everything, you’re just gonna stay stuck at the start screen forever. And trust me, that’s no way to play.”

Jisung stared at him, the simplicity of his words somehow cutting through the noise in his head. “You’re… surprisingly good at this,” he said, half-joking.

“I have my moments.” Sicheng smirked, pushing himself off the arcade machine. “Anyway, I’m out. Congrats again, champ. And, uh, good luck with… whatever you decide.”

As Sicheng walked off, Jisung found himself standing a little straighter. The stranger’s words had left him with no concrete answers, but maybe that was the point.

Jisung glanced down at the medal one last time before tucking it under his shirt. For now, he’d focus on the present. The victory he’d earned and the path it was opening up.

But deep down, he knew that the harder game was just beginning.

Jisung didn’t see Chenle after the championship that night. 

The victory should have been enough. It was everything he’d worked for, proof that he wasn’t just the quiet kid in the background. But his mind kept circling back to you—your smile, your words, the warmth in your eyes that seemed to see right through his fears.

Why does it feel like this isn’t enough?

Jisung sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. He thought about Chenle. The guilt gnawed at him. Chenle had cheered for him louder than anyone, had believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. And yet, every time Jisung saw you two together, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. This isn’t fair to Chenle. He deserves better than this.

But the memory of your touch, the way your voice softened when you spoke to him, was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a crush. It was something deeper, something that made him feel seen in a way he never had before.

“Hey, Wiz.”

Jisung jumped at the voice, turning to see Chenle standing behind him. His best friend’s grin was still as bright as ever, but there was something different in his eyes, something quieter, more serious.

“Oh, hey,” Jisung mumbled, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions on his face. “What’s up?”

Chenle didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gestured toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

Jisung’s stomach sank, but he nodded, following Chenle out into the cool night air. The buzz of the arcade faded behind them as they walked a short distance to a nearby bench. Chenle flopped down first, his usual energy replaced by a rare stillness.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jisung fidgeted with the edge of his medal ribbon, waiting for Chenle to break the silence.

“I saw you,” Chenle finally said, his voice unusually calm.

Jisung froze, his heart lurching in his chest. “Saw me?” he echoed, his voice tight.

Chenle leaned back, his gaze fixed on the starry sky. “You and her. After the tournament.”

Jisung’s throat went dry. “I—Chenle, it’s not what you think—”

Chenle cut him off with a small, tired laugh. “Relax, dude. I’m not mad. And I know you wouldn’t do anything. You’re too much of a pussy to make the first move.” He turned to look at Jisung, his expression softer than Jisung expected. “I mean, yeah, it stings a little. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Jisung blinked, confused. “Thinking about what?”

Chenle sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About us….me and her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great. But... I don’t think we’re great together, you know? We’re fun, we laugh a lot, but it’s not... deep.”

Jisung stared at him, struggling to process the words.

“And then I see the way you look at her,” Chenle continued, his voice quieter now. “And the way she looks at you.” He let out another soft laugh. “I’d have to be blind not to notice it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisung blurted out, his guilt spilling over. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear, I tried not to—”

“Hey, stop.” Chenle held up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not mad, okay? It’s not like you did this on purpose. Feelings are... messy. Trust me, I get it.”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Chenle’s understanding both a relief and a fresh wave of guilt. “So... what does this mean?” he asked hesitantly.

Chenle shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It means I’m stepping back. You two have something real, Jisung. Something I don’t think I could ever have with her.”

Jisung stared at him, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?”

Chenle nodded. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll probably be a little salty about it for a while. But at the end of the day, you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy.” He clapped Jisung on the shoulder, his grin returning in full force. “And who knows? Maybe this means I’ll finally have time to beat your high score.”

Jisung let out a breathless laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Thanks, Chenle. For everything.”

Chenle stood, stretching dramatically. “Don’t get all mushy on me now. Just... don’t mess it up, okay? She’s too good for that.”

Jisung nodded, his heart lighter but still full. As Chenle walked away, Jisung sat for a moment longer, staring at the medal in his hands.

Jisung’s heart pounded like it had during the tournament, maybe even harder. He clutched the edges of the medal still hanging around his neck, his thumb running along the engraved letters as if they could grant him the courage he desperately needed.

He found you sitting at the counter in Pixel Haven, a quiet lull settling over the arcade now that the evening rush was over. You were tinkering with a small machine part, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Jisung couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the sight.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the arcade lights.

You looked up, surprised but smiling as soon as you saw him. “Jisung! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your big win?”

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I needed to talk to you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

You set the part down, giving him your full attention. “Is everything okay?”

Jisung nodded, but the lump in his throat made it hard to speak. He took a deep breath, the memory of Chenle’s words earlier that night giving him the final push.

“I—there’s something I need to say. And I don’t know if it’s the right time, or if I’m even allowed to feel this way, but I can’t... I can’t keep it in anymore.” He paused, his hands gripping the medal tightly. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know Chenle’s your boyfriend. Well, was—but I had to tell you.”

Your eyes softened, and you stood, closing the space between you. “Jisung…”

“I’m sorry if this is too much,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I just... you mean a lot to me. More than I can explain. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just—”

“Jisung.” Your voice was steady but gentle, cutting through his nervous rambling.

He stopped, his breath hitching as you placed a hand on his arm.

“I like you too.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. He blinked at you, his mind struggling to catch up. “You... you do?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and ridiculously talented. And more than that, you have this quiet strength that I admire so much. I’ve been drawn to you for a while now, even when I didn’t fully realize it.”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed, his heart soaring as your words sank in. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, your smile widening. “But we’ll have to take things slow. This is all new, and I want to make sure we’re both ready.”

Jisung nodded quickly, his nervous energy giving way to a shy grin. “Of course. Slow is good.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet arcade. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Jisung’s blush deepened, but for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to hide it.

As the two of you stood there, the arcade lights casting a warm glow, Jisung felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t just the joy of hearing you say you liked him too. He’d taken a risk and won.

And this victory? It felt like the best one yet.

This was it.

The moment he’d worked toward for months.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, “Park Jisung is on the verge of breaking the world record for highest Tetris score! Can he do it?”

Jisung’s heart thundered in his chest, but it wasn’t fear anymore. It was adrenaline. Focus. Determination.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of you and Chenle in the crowd. You were leaning forward, your hands clasped tightly in anticipation, your eyes shining with pride. Beside you, Chenle was shouting encouragement so loudly it drowned out the rest of the noise.

“Come on, Wizard!” Chenle yelled, his grin so wide it could’ve split his face. “You’ve got this! Show ‘em how it’s done!”

Jisung’s lips twitched into a small smile. Chenle’s voice, your presence, the energy of everyone around him, all pushed him forward.

The final minutes were a blur of movement and sound. The blocks sped up to an almost impossible level, but Jisung’s hands didn’t falter. His brain worked in overdrive, every decision precise and calculated. He could feel the rhythm of the game in his bones.

And then, with one last perfect Tetris, the machine let out a triumphant chime.

The words NEW WORLD RECORD! flashed across the screen, and for a moment, the room seemed to freeze.

Then the crowd erupted. Cheers and applause filled the arcade, the sound almost deafening. Jisung sat back, his hands trembling as he let out a shaky breath. He’d done it.

You were the first to reach him, weaving through the crowd with your face lit up in a beaming smile. “Jisung, you did it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

For a moment, he froze, still overwhelmed by everything, but then he relaxed into the hug, his face flushing as a shy grin spread across his lips. “I... I guess I did.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still on his arms. “No, Jisung. You didn’t just do it. You literally broke a world record. That was fucking incredible.”

Before Jisung could respond, Chenle burst through the crowd, practically tackling him with a clap on the back. “That was insane, dude! You’re officially a legend!”

Jisung laughed softly, his nerves easing as the weight of his friends’ support sank in. “Thanks, Chenle. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Chenle scoffed, his grin turning playful. “Obviously. I mean, who else would’ve dragged your sorry butt to the arcade every week?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. “And who else would’ve cheered louder than the announcer himself?”

Chenle puffed out his chest dramatically. “It’s called dedication. But seriously, man.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something softer. “I’m proud of you. I always knew you had it in you.”

Jisung blinked, his throat tightening with emotion. “Thanks, Chenle. That... that means a lot.”

“And me,” you added, your gaze locking with Jisung’s. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Jisung. You deserve every bit of it.”

Jisung’s face burned, but he managed a small, grateful smile. “I... I couldn’t have done it without you either. Both of you.”

Chenle grinned, clapping Jisung on the back again. “Okay, enough sap. Let’s go celebrate! First round of drinks are on me!”

“Chenle, you’ve never paid for drinks in your life,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Today’s a special occasion!” Chenle shot back, already heading toward the counter. “Besides, I’ll just borrow some cash from Jisung’s prize money.”

Jisung chuckled, the sound lighter than it had been in months. He looked between you and Chenle, his chest tightening with a strange mix of gratitude and joy.

In this moment, he realized that no matter how far he went. No matter how high he climbed in the Tetris world. He wouldn’t be alone.

He had Chenle, his loud, chaotic best friend who always believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. And he had you, the person who saw him, really saw him, and made him feel like he could be more than just the quiet kid in the background.

For the first time, Jisung felt like he wasn’t just playing to win. He was playing for the people who mattered most.'

Though it stung at first, Chenle proved himself to be the supportive and selfless friend Jisung had always known. It didn’t take long for him to bounce back—literally. A chance meeting at a K-TV bar introduced him to a bubbly, energetic girl named Yizhuo, whose laughter was as infectious as his own. Their chemistry was instant, and soon Chenle was filling the arcade with stories of his new escapades. He still teased Jisung relentlessly, but it was clear he harbored no ill will.

The trio’s bond remained intact, stronger than ever, though their lives began to diverge.

Jisung, now a bona fide legend in the gaming world, found himself swept into a whirlwind of tournaments, sponsorships, and interviews. Though he remained shy and soft-spoken, his quiet charisma and undeniable skill won over fans around the globe. He still made time to visit Pixel Haven, the arcade that had started it all, but his visits were less frequent now, as his journey took him to stages he’d only dreamed of.

You, on the other hand, had left Pixel Haven behind for a new chapter of your own. Inspired by the energy and community of the arcade, you decided to pursue a career in game design. Late nights were now spent sketching out ideas for games that combined strategy and storytelling, with a little bit of heart and soul, something you’d learned was just as important as the mechanics.

Jisung was your biggest cheerleader, always eager to hear about your latest ideas, even if his input sometimes boiled down to, “As long as it’s not as stressful as Tetris.”

Chenle, ever the social butterfly, had shifted his focus to broadcasting. His infectious personality made him a hit on television screens, where he’d commentate on retro games, pull off absurd challenges, and occasionally rope Jisung into appearances. “The TetWiz and Lele Show,” he called it, though Jisung mostly just sat there, looking flustered as Chenle stole the spotlight.

Still, every once in a while, the three of you would reunite at Pixel Haven, now under new management but still holding its nostalgic charm. You’d share snacks, reminisce about the good old days, and maybe even challenge each other to a game or two—though no one dared to take on Jisung in Tetris.

And as Jisung watched you and Chenle laughing over some ridiculous bet, the soft glow of the arcade lights reflecting in your eyes, he realized that life was a lot like Tetris. The pieces didn’t always fall the way you wanted them to, but with patience, a little bit of courage, and the right people by your side, you could make something beautiful out of the chaos.

GAME OVER.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.6

christmas special

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

summary : Christmas has arrived and so has Y/n and Lando’s final night together…

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : kissing! very suggestive! swearing!!!

words : 4870

⋆༺

I turn up the volume on my phone while P is singing along loudly to ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’. Y/n is dancing in her little ‘kiss the chef’ apron while Max makes hot chocolate.

I cut up carrots and mash the potatoes, getting hit when I try to eat some of the pigs in a blanket Max is making.

I take the liberty of doing the one thing I know how, making drinks! I opt out considering my head still hurts but eat the leftover olives.

Max laughs while I shake the drinks and dance around as Y/n tries to get past me. I block her way, singing the words and shake the metal in her face.

She gives me a frown that I know is just a front. I take her hand and spin her around as she tries to keep her plate still, “Norris!”

“Fewtrell!” I echo, laughing as she sets the plate down. She’s smiling now, hands on hips and everything.

It’s moments like these where I wish I could tell her, where I wish I could ignore her brother and P and just kiss her.

I’m immediately sobered when Max starts choking on a carrot and makes it all about himself.

⋆༺

I find Y/n in her room, bent over and digging around her closet. The creek of the door shutting behind me makes her turn back, “Don’t stop on my accord.” I mumble, walking closer.

A week ago, she would probably just roll her eyes, and she does, but this time she’s got a smile on her face. It’s a weird feeling, not having to chase her for those little glimpses of affection. I like it.

“You look really nice.” Her lips are dark red, her dress is short and black and based on her one heel, I'm assuming she was looking for her other shoe.

“I’d look better with two shoes.” She says, sticking her head back into her closet. I lean over her shoulder, peeking in, “Hey!”

She turns quickly, a hand on my chest, “No looking! I have presents in there.” I walk backwards with the force of her hand.

I smile, “You still haven’t wrapped them?”

“I’m a busy girl and last night I was busy taking care of some drunken idiot who just wanted to kiss me.”

The back of my legs hit her bed frame, forcing me to sit on her bed and turn my head upward to look at her. She’s between my legs as I move my hands to the back of her thighs, just above her skirt hem.

I run my hands up and down slowly, “Can you take care of this sober idiot who just wants to kiss you?”

She moves her hands to slide past my chest and onto my shoulders. Her hair is curled and falling into her face. My heart genuinely hurts for a second because how can someone so perfect even care about me?

She leans in and kisses me in a way that’s so soft and makes me want to hold her forever. I like how her nails scratch my skin and drift into my hair, I love how she lets me touch her.

A knock at her door makes us both jump and as soon as P starts talking, she walks backwards while I stand. “Y/n!” She knocks again and when I wipe my mouth, I see red lipstick on my hand. “I can’t find my Tory burch bag and it has all my lip…” Her speech slows when she enters the room and sees the two of us, “products in it…”

“Sorry! I haven’t seen it.” I don’t dare turn around in fear of what I look like, but I hear Y/n pretending to look for it.

“Oh. Alright…” P hums as I pretend to be extra interested in the snow outside, “I’ll go check my room again.

I know P and I know she doesn’t shut the door on purpose. As soon as I look back at Y/n, her hand goes to her mouth.

“Oh no…” She laughs, taking my hand and dragging me to the bathroom. I’ve got lipstick all over my mouth and hers is a bit smeared in the corner.

I take my thumb and fix hers, smiling as she eyes my face, “You look ridiculous.”

“Worth it.” I laugh and go to kiss her again but she backs up.

“Lando, you’re already a mess.”

“Yes, so it's not a big deal if you get more on me.” I try again, her face in my hands as she laughs and stops me.

“It’s a big deal if you fuck up mine even more!” She shakes her head in my hands which just messes up her hair, “Lando. I’m not above having Max see.”

I shrug, “Let him. I don’t care.”

I realize she didn’t mean her words the second I speak. She twists her mouth up, looking down. The issue isn’t that I don’t care, it’s that she does.

I drop my hands and breath out, “Right.”

I use her makeup remover, she doesn’t help me, just sits on the counter and watches me.

“You look really good too, you know.” She says it quickly and looks back down at her swinging feet after.

I bite back a smile and keep moving the towel over my face, “Thank you.”

We sit in silence for a bit longer, taking extra time to wash my face. I splash myself with water, flicking her with what’s on my hand.

She laughs just before we hear Max’s voice, “Lando?” He sounds hesitant but very loud.

“Yes?” I yell back as Y/n hits me. I look at her in confusion because what else am I supposed to do?

“Where are you?”

“Y/n’s bathroom!” I yell as Y/n hits me repeatedly, “I couldn’t find… hair gel!” She groans and hops off the counter as I laugh to myself.

“Oh. Okay.” Max says back, “Well, come here!” I go to kiss Y/n on her cheek but she slips out of the bathroom.

“I’m still missing a shoe!”

⋆༺

I’m being forced to take photos of Y/n and P. Luckily they moved inside because I was freezing my ass off. The two of them laugh and hug in front of the fireplace when Max comes in, “Alright, parents want a photo.”

P moves and Max and Y/n just smile, Y/n putting bunny ears on Max when he isn’t looking.

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas eve.” P sighs, opening the oven to check on her so called ‘masterpiece’.

“Honestly, this trip has been the best.” We all turn to Y/n, almost surprised at her clear joy.

“I thought you two would have killed each other by now.” Max says honestly, helping P take the roast out of the oven.

“I was not that pissed at him!”

At Y/n’s words, My jaw drops, “Not ‘that’ pissed!? You hated me! You never even smiled around me!”

She scoffs as Max laughs, “It’s true, Y/n. Why did you even hate him?”

“I… that’s not important! Lando you’re not so innocent either! You took every opportunity to bug me!” We all sit around the small table that’s filled with food, Max and P sitting across from the two of us.

I’m smirking now, “Yeah maybe.”

“Either way, you two were annoying as fuck.” P shakes her head and pours everyone wine, “But I love you both so much more now that you’ve made up!”

“Yeah… what’s up with the sudden change anyway?” Max cuts into his meat while I look at Y/n. That’s something for her to answer and me to avoid.

“I matured.”

Max laughs, “In a week?”

She kicks him under the table, “Do you want me to go back to hating your best friend?”

He shakes his head with a laugh on his face. P is the best cook I know and our food is devoured quickly. We all stay in a food coma, slumped in our chairs and laughing at old stories.

I watch Y/n laugh, swirling her wine in her glass as she tells a story from highschool. I wonder what we would be like if I went to school with her back then… That and if she didn’t hate me.

“You guys should all come to australia.” I say before I even think about it, “In march for the race.”

“I’m always down for a free race pass.” Max says while P nods.

“That sounds really great, Lan. Thanks!”

“I can’t, gotta work.” Y/n shrugs as I roll my eyes.

“Just tell your boss your-” I want to say her boyfriend invited her to his race but I choose life right now. I don’t think Max will kill me, But Y/n might. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I tap her knee with my fingers as she looks at me. It’s that look she gives when she doesn’t want to give in. “Please?”

She bites her bottom lip, looking back to her plate and shrugging, “I’ll ask.”

“Yay!” P squeals, “I love australia! Except the spiders in beds.” She sobers and I let out a laugh, reminded of how Y/n screamed when the spider crawled on her.

Y/n laughs with me, starting to cough and shake her head. Max and P stare at us like we’re delusional, “What?”

“Nothing….” Y/n looks at me, smiling still, “I hate the spiders.”

We stay at the table while the Christmas lights and decorations light up the kitchen. Max and I clean the kitchen while the girls tell us new gossip and old drama.

As the night whines down, I start thinking about Y/n’s present more and more. I’m scared to give it to her, not because I don’t think she’ll like it, but because it proves how much I like her.

Fuck I sound whipped. I am whipped.

Y/n has her knees up to her chest in the dining chair, laughing at something P said and nodding enthusiastically. She flips her hair over her shoulder as I turn back to Max.

He’s looking at me funny but I just continue washing the plates.

⋆༺

you

There’s no knock, no voice, just the slight creek of our connecting door. My room is dark but the lights are on outside so they shine through the windows.

I see him walk closer, he’s in a hoodie and pajama pants, “Hi.” Is all he whispers.

“Hey.” I say back.

I realize he’s holding something when he sits on my bed, “I have your present.” He says as I reach for the lamp and turn it on.

Turning back to him, he looks happy and a bit shy. It’s a small box, wrapped nicely in brown paper which is a surprise.

“You want me to open it now? You know tomorrow is Christmas, right?” A small smile plays at his lips as he nods and scoots closer, fully on my bed now.

“I just wanted you to open it alone. I mean, without Max and P.” I raise a brow, “It’s nothing bad… I'm just, honestly, a bit embarrassed.”

I rip the paper open carefully, a bit nervous at what awaits me. It’s a leather box and when I open it, my jaw drops a little. “Lan… it’s beautiful.”

It’s a locket. Simple yet so stunning.

It’s a heart, with tiny engraving of swirls and hearts on it. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say.” He goes to leave but I grab his hand.

The touch makes him look back, and sit down. “I just don’t get it… why would you be embarrassed?”

He thinks for a moment, opening and closing his mouth before laughing dryly, “You hated me. And I really liked you- I do really like you. I guess it’s just… to me, jewelry is meaningful and something I shouldn’t give to someone who hates me.”

He likes me. He really likes me… “You got this before the trip?” I ask as his hand goes to the back of his neck.

“Mhm. Actually, in barcelona.” Oh.

I went to the spanish grand prix with Max, he was in such a bad mood the whole weekend that we only got him out to go drink.

On the way, though, we started arguing about the importance of gift giving. Max shut us up after five minutes of non stop chatter and we stayed far away from each other while we drank.

But after… “We went past that thrift store.” I say, “The one with the locket in the window.” I was so drunk I'm surprised I even remember, but I snapped a photo and saw it in my camera roll months ago.

“You really liked it.” He shrugs, “I thought it would look good on you.” I think he’s about to rest his hand on me, but instead he gently presses his finger against the side of the locket, opening it.

On one side, there’s a photo of us. It’s from days ago when I was face down in the snow, still on his shoulders. I laugh as I look to the other side, smiling at the group selfie we all got with Santa.

“I love it.” I say, “It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.” It’s odd, actually accepting how much Lando cares.

He laughs a bit, “It was like twenty pounds…”

“That doesn’t matter.” I hold the cold piece of jewelry in my hands, “It’s too lovely for the value to be decided in money.”

“Since when did you get all philosophical?” He laughs a bit, running a hand through his curls as I rest the gift in the box and put it on my bedside table.

I shrug, “Since this really cute guy decided to do something really sweet.” I take his hand in mine, “Mines not nearly as nice as that.”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should cash in my whole drunken karaoke prize.”

I don’t think for once, just laugh and hold the back of his neck, kissing him. “Stop.” He says, making me frown.

“Just one more thing… I don’t want this to be some throwaway vacation thing.” He takes a breath of confidence, “I meant what I said, I really like you. I think you’re really beautiful, Sunshine… and I'm not just saying that to get you in bed because well… we’re already in bed.”

I’m not shocked, more surprised? And happy. And laughing. “I really like you too, even if you are an idiot.”

He sighs, resting his forehead against mine, “Good because fuck you’re scary and-”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” And he does.

I fall back onto my pillows, the weight of Lando over me making me smile against his lips. “You’re so perfect.” He whispers as his hand goes under my shirt.

I moan a bit under his touch, his tongue slipping into my mouth. He knows me partially already, knows my body, knows that I go weak in the knees when he kisses the crook of my neck.

“Lando.” I say, already breathless and leaning back into the bed.

“Say my name again.”

“Lan…” His hand gropes my boob, making me moan and bite my lip to quiet it.

“Good girl, stay quiet for me.” His words make me squirm and cause my panties to wet, “Just to be clear, I did not come in here with the intent on staying.”

This makes me laugh, tugging off his hoodie. No shirt under, of course. Slut. “I don’t care, fuck me.”

His breathing is the only thing I can focus on in the quiet of the night, on top of me, shirtless, and hard. “I mean, if this is my prize, i’ll take it.”

He kisses me again, mentioning the words that have been circulating my brain for the past day.

‘What’ll you give me if I do?’

I push him off me, smirking as he groans, “Y/n-” He stops when I hop off the bed, turning towards me.

“I have a better prize in mind.” I slip the hair tie off my wrist and wrap it into my hair, Lando shakes his head in disbelief as he watches me.

His legs swing over the edge, waiting, practically drooling. I smile as I sink to my knees and his hand goes to my face, then hair.

His finger hooks into my hair tie, pulling it out and grinning as he replaces it with his hand.

His hands are so big that he only needs one, scooping up my hair and holding it tight, “Feel okay?” He whispers as I tug down his sweats, “You don’t have to.”

I blink up at him as my hand makes contact with his clothed dick. He whimpers a bit, “Your turn to be quiet.” I tug off his underwear. He's hard and staring down at me, his arm behind him to brace himself.

He sucks in a breath as I take his dick in my hand, teasing the tip with my tongue, “Fuck, I used to dream about this.”

“Don’t worry love, you’re not in a wet dream.” I grin before taking him into my mouth, watching his head tilt back and listening to the little moans that slip out. Best Christmas ever.

⋆༺

lando

I’ve been told my ‘love language’ is physical touch.

I never really believed it until I became close with Y/n.

I want to touch her all the time, I just want to be close to her.

I wake up with her in my arms, still peacefully sleeping. She’s naked in a sort of euphoric way, the true sort of intimacy.

She stirs against me, her hair falling over my arm as she cuddles into my chest. Last night was… everything. She’s so fucking amazing and, i’ve learned, very talented.

Her eyes open slowly, looking up at me and immediately smiling, “Merry Christmas.” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

“Very merry.” She kisses my neck because she’s too far down and doesn’t seem like she wants to move. I drift my fingers over her neck, absolutely, and sadly, spotless.

But then I slip the blanket off of her, admiring her body and every freckle on it. I move my hand between her thighs, which she squeezes together and groans, “I’m sore.”

“That tracks.” I say, moving my hand to her knee and looking down at her bruised thighs. “You look incredible with my marks on you.”

She laughs when she sees them, still half asleep, “Mmm…” I squeeze her ass just because I can, “Santa came.” She mumbles.

“Someone else came too-” she hits my arm at the joke. I laugh and climb over her, kissing her again. Her lips are swollen and is still making those noises that shouldn’t affect me as much as they do.

She tugs the blanket over us, “I’m freezing.” She says, wrapping her legs around me. My cock practically screams at the content, “Warm me up, Lando.”

I groan at her words, “Say please, Sunshine.”

“Please.” She whispers in my ear and in this moment I realize, I would do absolutely anything she asked of me.

⋆༺

“Happy Christmas!” P sings as she plops down next to me, hugging me tight and handing me a gift.

I throw Max my present as Y/n opens one from P. I got Max a new computer and a hat. I rip the wrapping off and laugh at the shirt P got me.

It’s got her and Max’s faces on it. “Wow that’s P, I look forward to burning it.” She shoves me and smiles at the present I got her.

I got her a card game and a pair of shoes she wouldn’t shut up about. Y/n pulls a santa hat onto my head and I don’t object, just watch her open her second present from me.

“Look… I got this when I knew you hated me a bit more than you do now.” Yeah my other gift was before too, but that was drunken and I didn’t expect to actually give it to her.

Her jaw drops when she opens the gift, “I hate you again!” She throws the stuffy at me. I may or may not have gotten her a pillow… with her face on it… edited onto an elf’s body. “Freak!”

“Come on, you look cute!” I laugh, showing Max and P, “How’d you get back so fast from working all night? Aren’t you tired?”

She frowns, “I could ask you the same question, you look tall next to a thirteen year old! That’s it!” I scoff as she throws me a wrapped box, “From me, to you.”

I open it. It looks like a padel racket but has a string and a ball attached. “Innovative.” I say, bouncing the ball back and forth. I like it, but the gift she gave me last night was much better.

Max settles us down as she sticks her tongue out at me. We finish opening presents and with Max and Y/n’s matching sweaters, I take just about a million photos before Y/n pulls it off in a huff.

Max makes us all coffee and we stay around the tree, sitting in wrapping paper and miscellaneous gifts.

Y/n grabs a candy cane off the tree, popping it into her mouth. “Why do you love peppermint coffee so much?”

She eyes me, grabbing another candy cane and handing it to me, “You try.” I go to sip my coffee but she stops me, “Wait I added peppermint in mine!” So I sip hers, accidentally making eye contact with her and almost spitting the coffee out.

I start to cough and laugh at the same time while Y/n just giggles, “You like it?”

I lick my candy cane and nod, still recovering,“It’s alright.”

She smiles, satisfied that I didn’t dislike the drink. She’s dressed in pink sweats and a white hoodie P got her. Her hair is up and practically falling out of her bun. Her hands wrap around the mug, pulling her knees to her chest and humming.

She’s so beautiful and it makes me so happy that she looks so content. Her nails tap against the ceramic, making a satisfying sound in the peacefulness of our little christmas.

She notices me staring, our eyes meeting in a familiar comfort. A small smile tugs at her lips as I can’t hold back mine.

My happiness is broken by my friends words, “Hey Lan, I need to talk to you.” I look around awkwardly as he leaves the room, so I follow.

“Hey thanks for the-” As soon as we step outside and he shuts the door behind him, I know.

“Lando. What is going on with you and Y/n?” His voice is stern and not something I usually hear.

I swallow as he crosses his arms, wondering if Y/n knows I'm about to meet my doom.

I back up, my uggs crunching the snow under me. Max looks at me, waiting so long that I'm about to beg him to say something else. But then he says, “Oh my god, You’re in love with her.”

“I…” What do I say to that? What do I say to someone I don’t want to lie to?

He scoffs, rubbing his hand over his mouth before walking closer to me, “Lando. It’s been a week.”

I shake my head, giving in, “It’s been longer than that.”

He groans, “I mean- I knew you had a crush on her but I thought you got over that!” I wasn’t the most inconspicuous as a kid, and apparently I'm even worse now.

“Well I didn’t…” My arms fall to my sides as he stares at me like I'm the most delusional man on earth.

“She doesn’t like you!” His words feel like a stab to the heart, even if I know they’re wrong. “She barely likes you as a friend!”

“Respectfully Max… She does.” He scoffs and looks away from me as if i’m an idiot, “She didn’t want to fucking tell you because of this shit!” I raise my voice but remember that the girls are still inside.

He turns back to me, “What?”

I shrug, too annoyed to care, “We’ve been hooking up.”

“Fuck you. How could you not tell me?”

“Right, like I was just going to drop that I fucked your sister!” He goes quiet, jaw dropped and me just now realizing the magnitude of what I said.

Max screams. “Oh my- I take it back! Wash my ears out! Ew! Lando, I'll kill you! Ew!” He goes through about a hundred emotions as he paces across the back porch.

I let out a dry laugh, “Max.”

“Norris.” He mimics me, “I’m mad you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.” I say it and I mean it.

“And I'm mad that Y/n thought I would be pissed.”

“To be fair… everytime I would joke about it, you would throw a fit.” I shrug as he rolls his eyes.

“It’s just weird. But I'm not blind… it’s the way you look at her.” His words mean way more than I expected, “And don’t get me wrong- I hate the idea. It’s gross actually. But I know you’re being honest.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“And if you hurt her I will never speak to you again.” I laugh as he pats my shoulder, being 100% serious and straight faced.

“Okay.”

“Does she love you back?”

I shake my head, “Nah mate… She doesn’t even know.”

“Um…” Y/n’s voice makes me freeze, my smile dropping. “I do now…”

Max looks at her, then me, patting my shoulder and leaving us as if he wants no part.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” I laugh awkwardly, turning around to see her standing in the snow. She looks like an angel, dusted in white.

“I came to tell you guys we’re gonna watch home alone…” She rubs her hand on her arm, “I heard yelling.”

I nod, “Max knows. He's fine, don't worry.”

A small smile appears on her face, “Are you okay?” She steps closer, putting her hands onto my cheeks. They’re warm and I know i’m already blushing.

“Mhm. Embarrassed, but okay.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” She looks to her feet.

“I know you’re not in love with me- Just to be clear.” I clear my throat and look down at her shoes.

“I’m sorry for always being so mean. I didn’t know how you felt. Maybe if you manned up and told me earlier-”

I scoff and hit her waist playfully, “Don’t lie, Sunshine. You would have laughed in my face.”

She nods, smiling wide, “Yeah I would have.”

“You know… I was thinking. Maybe when we get back to our real lives, no snow in sight type of thing…” Her brows raises, “We could go out. Like on a real date.”

She kisses my cheek, “I’d love that.”

I kiss her on her lips, my hands over hers as the snow falls around us. I’m freezing yet I don’t feel cold… Maybe it’s because I have my sunshine right against my lips.

I get hit by snow in a flurry of laughter as Y/n and I pull away. Max and P have started throwing snowballs at us, Max yelling, “My once chance to get you back for not telling me!”

He hits his sister right in the face as she screams and wipes off her eyes. The next thing I know, we’re all yelling and hiding, trying to make as many snowballs and pelt each other with them.

Y/n hits Max square in the chest and he falls down like he’s been shot. P is set on me and with each snowball, I get a reminder of what will happen if I do anything to hurt Y/n.

We fall to the ground, out of breath from running and screaming and laughing. Y/n falls on top of me and it’s the first time I can hold her in my arms openly.

Max rolls his eyes but does the same with P, kissing her head as she rests it against his shoulder.

“This has been…” Y/n starts, trailing off as I brush the snow off of her hair.

I finish the sentence for her, smiling at my closest friends and basically family, “The best Christmas ever.”

⋆༺

you

I didn’t expect my Christmas holiday to be so life changing. I didn’t expect him.

Lando Norris was the thorn in my side and now he’s just by my side. With his arm around me or kissing my cheek or holding my hand, I don’t think I could ever get rid of him.

And I truly love him for it.

writers note : while writing this i wondered, what should be the downfall or bump in their relationship?? then i remembered free will exists and im truly just a wattpad writer at heart. so happy days for all!!!!! thanks for all the support on this little series it’s absolutely made my break! merry christmas my lovies <3

[tartarusknight]

Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.

Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.

Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.

Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.

And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.

Until now...

Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.

Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.

The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.

Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.

However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.

"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.

Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.

"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.

"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.

"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.

He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him

Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"

Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."

Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."

Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.

They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.

"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.

Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.

He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."

They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.

"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.

Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.

"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.

Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.

[no-144444]

fulfilled- m.verstappen

summary: max reflects on his life.

pairing: dad! max verstappen x fem! wife! mom! reader

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The soft light of the rising sun peeked its way under the blinds of your shared bedroom as Max stirred awake. He yawned, knowing he could stay in bed a little longer, but also knowing that any moment, 2 toddlers would run in and wake the two of you up, and you deserved a bit more sleep. He quietly left your room to find his two sons, just outside the door, ready to pounce. They jumped on their father, wishing him a good morning as he chuckled, picking the both of them up. 

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast dad?” Arthur asked, pulling on his t-shirt. 

“No! We should have waffles!” Quinn argued. Those two were twins, but couldn’t be more opposite. Arthur was the quiet, polite, kind child, whereas Quinn was the crazy, funny, sweetheart. 

“What about both?” he offered, and they both nodded, a multitude of ‘thank you’s’ on their lips. 

As they walked to the kitchen and Max placed them down on the counter, giving them clear instructions to measure out the dry ingredients, Layla walked out from her room. 

“Dad!” she cheered, hugging his legs. Layla was 8. The boys were 6. Max couldn’t believe his life. He’d left F1 8 whole years ago, and he couldn’t have made a better decision. He adored being around all the time for the kids. He loved walking them to school, planning playdates with his dad friends, teaching them all about life through his lens. Honestly, he’d been terrified when he found out you were pregnant the first time. You two had been married for 2 years, but you hadn’t spoken about when you wanted to have kids. When you came to him with 3 positive pregnancy tests, teary eyes, and a growing fear, he had no other choice than to step up and comfort you. In those moments, he found himself telling you that he was scared too, but you two would do it together. The next few months had been hard. The 2024 season had been hard in general. Finding out you were pregnant halfway through was harder. As the months went on and he quit F1, he felt himself becoming increasingly nervous. He was scared. What if he would be just like his father? What if he didn’t know what to do? What would happen then? What if you left him because he couldn’t do it?

But you made all of those thoughts go away, promising him that he would be brilliant, that he was the most caring person you knew, and that the way you already loved your child was a testament to that. He’d given up his racing career to be there, he had to realise how big of a sacrifice that was, right? 

Now here he was, making his children waffles and pancakes on a Saturday morning while his wife lay in bed, getting some more rest. 

And he was happy. He was fulfilled. 

He smiled as the twins bickered over a measurement, and Layla was busy sitting on the counter explaining the newest drama of her friend group. 

When he was younger, he really questioned what he was meant to be. As much as he was an exceptional racer, he’d never felt truly satisfied, whereas he knew others who were satisfied after they won their first title. 

It all clicked the day Layla was born. He wasn’t meant to be a racer. He was meant to be a dad.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[fastandcarlos]

He Takes Your Baby To The Paddock » F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

He was determined to keep your child as far away from the hustle and bustle as possible when he took them to the paddock. Max used his broad shoulders to shield your child from the cheers and the flashes in order to protect him and make sure that they weren’t too overwhelmed by it all. Every few seconds, Max would glance behind him and make sure that you were still there too and also safe, but most importantly he wanted to make sure that your child was safe in his arms, being the perfect protective dad that he always was.

» Lando Norris

There was nothing that Lando wanted to do more than show off your child when he took them to the paddock, happy to introduce them to anyone who would listen. Although your baby was still quite young, that didn’t stop Lando from showing them around and making sure that they got a glimpse at everything that went on in the McLaren garage. Lando didn’t want to leave your child’s side for the day, wanting to make sure that they got to experience absolutely everything with him. He was obsessed with making as many memories in the paddock as he possibly could.

» Carlos Sainz

The two of them were like social butterflies around the paddock, everyone loved Carlos anyway, but Carlos walking around with your child seemed to draw even more people over to him. Everyone in the paddock couldn’t get enough of your child and Carlos was incredibly proud to gush to everyone about how lucky he was to have the two of you in his life. You had often told people how your child had inherited Carlos’ charm and now everyone else managed to see it for themselves too. There were endless jokes with the three of you as Carlos and your baby kept the crowds entertained.

» George Russell

There was a proud smile on George’s face for the entire day that you and your child decided to attend the race with him. George wasn’t flashy about the fact his little family were there to support him, but if anyone did ask him about the two of you then he would talk to them for hours about how amazing life was. It was something that he could definitely imagine himself getting used to in the future, seeing his child waving for him down the pit lane and being the first one to give him a hug when he climbed out of the car - hopefully one day as a race winner too.

» Charles LeClerc

It was like having a big kid in the paddock the day that Charles got to take your child to work with him. He was beyond excitable, his heart racing with happiness being able to marry his two favourite things, his family and work. Nothing seemed to dampen Charles’s spirit as a little hand clung onto him for dear life in amongst all the chaos calling out to ‘papa’ every so often just to make sure that he was definitely still there. As Charles saw the smiles on others’s faces whenever your child called him in response to how adorable they were, Charles knew he was a lucky guy indeed.

» Pierre Gasly

There was almost a slight concern amongst the team when you and your child appeared at the paddock, because no matter what they did, Pierre just couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling. He was on cloud nine being able to show your child around, answering all of their questions and hoping to prove to him that it was worth it for daddy to be away for so many days of the year. Nothing else mattered other than being able to enjoy spending time with his family and make plenty of memories with your child as they cheered him on throughout the day.

» Lewis Hamilton

He was high alert throughout the entire day having your child at the paddock, any second his eyes weren’t on them he was panicking and wanting to make sure that they were safe. You couldn’t help but laugh at how cautious Lewis was, he was reluctant to even race out of fear of something happening to your child. With lots of reassurance, he eventually did, but you’d never seen him leave his car so quickly once the race was over. Everyone knew that he was pretty protective, but this knocked everyone’s socks off with how caring of a dad he was.

» Alex Albon

He seemed to look nowhere else throughout the day other than in your child’s direction. Alex loved to give your child all of his attention, it didn’t matter if he was in briefing, being interviewed, or supposed to be warming up, Alex would only be half listening to what was going on around him. Instead, he was obsessed with your child and didn’t want to miss a thing, especially as he got to watch his child enjoy one of his favourite places on earth, the paddock. Everything else was second best to Alex, despite the number of times people checked he was paying attention throughout the day.

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[bunny-jpeg]

the cost of what is to come, max v.- you felt anxious, beyond anxious. the type of anxiety that seemed to tighten your throat and made every nerve feel hyper active. especially knelt there on the bed, waiting.

"you've been quite the bad girl." max's voice was honey in your head. you watched him reach for you, his hand on your jaw ever so delicately, "but that's good for you. because i quite enjoy breaking stubborn girls." and you watched him lick his top lip, something shuddered inside of you.

there were boys, and there were men. and then there was max verstappen.

the kisses trailed from your shoulder to your jaw to your mouth. his lips captured yourself and you reached out to touch him. but before you should hold onto his shoulders. he snatched you by the wrists and broke the kiss.

"tsk, tsk, tsk." he said lowly, "i own you, you don't own me." his blue eyes gleamed with something that made your stomach twist. he gave a smile at you, "i get to touch what it mine. you signed over that a long time ago."

a series of bets and a mounting metaphorical debt. max pushed you to be the best mechanic and you pushed him to make your services worth it. and as he racked up points and trophies, he only became more and more a part of your life. redbull's plucky little mechanic, turned a stress toy for the four time world champion. you whined and he shut you up with another kiss.

already nude, he laid you out on the bed. his t-shirt off over his head. his gaze hungry on you. he never considered himself a gambling man except when it came to risky moves on the track. but you were the best gamble he ever made. he could only let out a small groan as you undid his expensive belt. as he got his jeans off, he captured your lips once more. he pinned you down onto the plush bed further. he pressed his weight against you and rubbed his barely clothed cock up against you. the kisses were feverish, he wanted you. he wanted you badly.

you had been on his mind for hours now, the post-race press conference went by so slowly when he knew you were tending to his car. your baby as you called it. well maybe it was time to give you an actual baby. his baby. he peeled off his briefs. you got a good look at his cock and you swallowed at the sight of him. so powerful on top of you, his expression was near unreadable. but you felt a slight bit of fear in your soul. max could be scary. a lion had two sides after all. the relaxed creature and the hunter, both with their own aura of dominating power. he took you by the hips and brushed his cock up against you. you swallowed and arched your back a little.

"be loud." he said, "no one can hear you. i don't think anyone would care to hear you. but not me, i love hearing those noises you make." he said as he sank his cock into you. you let out a squeak-like moan and it just shook max to his core.

he loved the sight of your soft breasts slightly bounce with each of his his thrusts. he eyed your form up and down, admired every inch of skin. he wanted to mark you up. he wanted to cover every inch of skin in his affection, his devotion.

he wanted to scare off every son of a bitch on the grid, from team principals to engineers to the drivers. max might have to get a little creative over the holidays to figure out how to keep you from slipping between his fingers. he felt the hunger in his jaw, down to the bone. in his teeth, he wanted to leave heavy hickies on your skin. he wanted to make your neck a masterpiece of his design. he held onto you hips tighter, lifted your hips a little to get a better angle. he let out a heavy groan at the sensation of you. you felt like a dream, he fucked you the way he drove cars. with a certain level of skill that had you quivering. needy for more.

that was how he was able to interweave himself into your life so tightly. become a fabric of your reality and leave you panting for more. he exhaled deeply, his cheeks grew slightly pink from the feeling of it all, "you feel amazing. you always feel amazing. you have no idea what you do to me. you've changed me, and i think it's only fair that i get to change you." cryptic were his words, but they left you moaning, pathetic little pants as he fucked you roughly.

you made him a champion, now he was going to make you a bride.

trade the coveralls for a white dress, and the grime under your nails for a shiny diamond ring. he was sickeningly obsessed with you, he wanted to be entrenched in your world that he could never leave or fear that everything would collapse. he worked his hips against yours and took in the sight of your beauty as he fucked you with heavy strokes.

"please, max." you said pathetically as he continued to fuck you. his movements quick and hit in all the right places. you held onto the hotel sheets under you and let him have his wicked way with you. you couldn't help yourself. you knew were so past the line of professionalism and there was no turning back. even if you wanted to, you knew deep down there was zero chance in hell that max would ever let you slip away. not when your entire being pulled him in. he wanted you often, he wanted you in ways that would scare most. it was a deep throb in you that left you yearning for him. it was why you worked on his cars so well and why you let him strip you down and take you apart after every race.

why his words seem to float in your head as he worked your achy cunt to a full hot bliss. he groaned and you whimpered. he leaned forward and you grasped his shoulders, this time he let you touch him. your lips collided and max continued to fuck you. he continued to stretch your cunt perfectly for him. you gave him everything and he in turn would give you everything. the luxury, the wealth, the baby and the last name.

"you sound beautiful when you say my name. it sounds right on your mouth." he licked his lips as he continued to bully his cock inside of you. he felt your cunt clench around him as he worked against you. he made a nice mess of your pretty pussy. not that anyone else was going to be touching it, not while he was still upright and breathing. he went in for another searing kiss. his pace started to stagger.

his thrusts became erratic and his mind only focused on one thing. filling you until there was no room left. you were perfect, the mechanic who could save redbull. too bad you wouldn't have a lengthy career. max doesn't want you out of his grasp, at most an arm's length. you didn't need to worry about money or anything, max had enough for you, him and your growing family. and that lingering through made him fuck you faster and harder.

the bed hit against the wall as he hit against the right spots, as he watched you shudder and arch your back. his pants were heavy as he eyed the sharp rise and fall of your chest. it was a heated affair, one that max would add to the long list of other times he fucked you into a total submission.

"you drive me crazy."

"please, max." you tried not to be too loud. he captured your lips once more and you clenched around him. your nails dug into his shoulders as he worked you slick cunt. the thrum of pleasure in your core went to your brain. and soon enough you finished. you moaned into his mouth as he just shuddered against you.

his movements only got faster and he tensed up around you. he pressed into you further and with a few more heavy, heated thrusts he finished inside of you. he looked you in the eyes as he finished, his expression shifted as he came. his eyes closed for a moment as he rode out his climax.

"fuck... there we go." he groaned as he relaxed a little bit. he looked at you once more and kissed you deeply. worth it, it was all worth it. he held you face for a moment.

you looked at him with a blissed out expression. and like a good girl (that max knew you were) you nodded, "yes, max."

afterwards he held you, his grip on you was a little tighter. he kissed you neck softly and watched you breathe heavily. he wasn't done with you yet, not quite. he whispered in your ear as he held you from behind.

"it's the end of the season, my dear. why don't you come home with me? i'll show you all that monaco has to offer, and maybe we'll make another deal. if i don't get you pregnant by the new year, you can stay with the team. but if you do, you become my wife." <3

[vxnuslogy]

— a reason. ft aventurine

— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest

— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.

‘everything happens for a reason.’

aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.

if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?

aventurine hated not knowing the reason.

“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”

what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.

“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.

“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”

the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.

“let's be good friends.”

—

working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.

honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.

but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.

overall aventurine was a good boss.

today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.

his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.

you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.

“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.

“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.

she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.

“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”

“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”

ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.

“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.

“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”

once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.

“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.

you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”

when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.

“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”

frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”

“is that the reason why you're here now?”

you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.

“let me ask you another question.”

letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.

“do you like working under me?”

the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.

“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.

“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”

“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.

“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”

“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”

“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”

“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”

something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.

“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”

and just like that, the office door clicked shut.

—

“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”

aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.

after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.

aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?

the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.

he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.

what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.

when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.

when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?

when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?

it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.

and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?

it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.

“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”

he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.

why did he have to go through this?

and then you did something out of the ordinary.

the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.

“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”

then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.

aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.

“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.

aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.

the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:

“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”

and you simply nod in understanding.

you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.

even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.

“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”

he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.

picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.

“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”

—

it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.

topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.

“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.

“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”

roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.

“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”

jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.

“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”

you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.

“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”

“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”

you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.

this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.

how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.

how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.

or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.

but what you were most sure of was:

“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”

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