#would get help from someone in the series :(

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 8: Line in the Sand

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: For your last few days on the island, you and Joel spend as much time together as possible. Glenn announces the winner of the land at dinner on the last day and new secrets come to light about Joel's past.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mentions and discussions of prior violence against reader and OC, descriptions of healing wounds, reader has long-ish hair, fluff, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), shower sex, unprotected piv sex, possessive behavior, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), alcohol consumption, verbal altercation with the woman we all love to hate

WC: 10.1K

Series Masterlist

It's starting. It's just the beginning. Soon, you'll see.

You'll see the kind of man he really is. And then you'll want nothing to do with him.

He told Glenn to come up to the room while you both scrambled to get decent, his heart thudding wildly in his chest but not because of Glenn and what he anticipated to be a very difficult conversation. No, he was terrified because when you heard what he was capable of, you would never look at him the same again.

You slipped your hand into his when you left his bedroom, your free hand fidgeting nervously with your hair, trying to conceal the brutal marks left on your face when a loud knock came at the door.

Joel let you go and motioned towards the couch before taking a deep breath and jogging lightly up the three steps from the sunken living room to answer the door.

Glenn's face was unreadable when Joel first laid eyes on him. He looked tired and worn out, but it was impossible to tell much else. His usual jovial spirit was long gone and replaced with a stony expression when he solemnly nodded to Joel in greeting before stepping into the foyer and sliding his shoes off.

"Got someplace where we can talk?" he asked.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, ushering him towards the living room where you sat waiting and anxiously fiddling with the edge of a soft white blanket. Glenn locked eyes with you, his gaze sweeping around your face, clocking the bruise under your eye and the nasty gash on your lip but also the terrified look in your face, swollen from your tears and injuries alike.

"Jesus, honey," Glenn breathed, shaking his head and dropping his chin. He pinched the bridge of his nose before looking back up at you. "Do you need anything? You need a doc? I got someone who'll make house calls within the hour."

You shook your head and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'm okay. Looks worse than it feels by now."

Joel stepped past Glenn to join you on the couch, placing a protective hand on your leg before motioning for Glenn to have a seat across from you, bracing himself for what was to come.

Glenn settled into the couch with the deep groan of a man who had been up all night. Joel could see more in his face now that he had help from the sunlight. Glenn was tired, sure, but he was also... scared?

"Well, no use in beating around the bush," Glenn began, brushing his palms on his khaki shorts. "Been a long night for everyone."

Joel nodded and you dropped your gaze to the floor. Here we go.

Glenn's eyes darted to Joel's hand, the one placed on your leg, the one that sported red scrapes on the knuckles like a badge of honor. He didn't flinch. Didn't try to hide it. Joel stood by what he did, regardless of how deranged he felt doing it.

Then, Glenn's voice cut through the fog settling around Joel's brain, the one readying all his excuses and arguments.

"I'm sorry."

Joel blinked and stared at Glenn, waiting for him to finish his thought, but it never came. So, Joel did it for him.

"Sorry for... takin' back the land?"

He felt you stiffen beside him and then your eyes were burning holes into the side of his head.

Glenn scoffed and shook his head.

"I ain't taking back the land, Joel. Christ."

Your eyes were now bouncing back and forth between them both, remaining silent while trying to keep up. Joel couldn't blame you because he himself was having trouble and you knew even less than him.

"Are you - y'mean -"

Glenn gave him a look of disbelief and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees while Joel began to rub nervous circles over your knee with the pad of his thumb.

"Joel, I didn't come here to go back on my word. The spot's yours. Hell, it was yours less than a week in. Knew it from the first night you were here. At dinner. Remember?"

He pointed a finger at you both, gaze sliding back and forth at your dumbstruck faces.

"You're different now, Joel. Different from the man I knew, and I mean that in the best way," Glenn continued, giving you a pointed look. Your cheeks warmed at the implication you had anything to do with it and you focused on your hands fidgeting in your lap. "And you said you'd hire locals for construction and design. That means a lot to me. This place means a lot to me. I want to see it thrive, I don't want to see someone take that land and make it just another source of revenue." Glenn scratched at the stubble on his jaw when he paused for a moment, his eyes still bouncing between you both. "I believe you'll treat this land and its people with respect. That's why you're gettin' the spot, Joel."

Joel nodded, glancing quickly at you before looking back at Glenn. "Thank you. Then, uh, what're you sorry for?"

Glenn's eyes dropped to his hands, fingers laced together tightly between his knees. His jaw tensed and brow furrowed when he finally said, "I'm sorry for what my boy did."

You looked at Joel, waiting for him to reply, but he just sat back and put his arm around your shoulders, deferring to you.

Clearing your throat, you met Glenn's eye and gave him a soft smile.

"Thank you. I don't think he meant to take it as far as he did-"

"No need to make excuses for him, honey," Glenn said sadly. "He's been struggling with substance abuse for some time. Combined with his short temper and... well... he's been difficult to deal with the past few years. Been giving him chance after chance to prove himself but I'm afraid this time is unforgivable."

You fell silent and looked to Joel again. He tightened his fingers around your shoulder and shifted a bit in his seat.

"'M sorry, too," he said, his tone somber. "Shouldn'tve done what I did. Came home from the boat last night and saw her," Joel nodded to you, eyes locking with yours before continuing, "and I just lost it. Shoulda called you or somethin' first."

Glenn shook his head and waved Joel off.

"I'm not looking for an apology. He deserved to be put in his place. Never in my life thought he'd do something like this to a woman, made me and Mary sick to our stomachs."

Joel ticked his jaw to the side before awkwardly asking, "He outta the hospital?"

You whipped your head in Joel's direction, eyes widened with shock.

"Yeah. Cops came to speak to him around five this morning. Don't worry, he didn't say a word 'bout you."

"Wouldn't blame either of you if you did," Joel countered, flexing and stretching the fingers on his right hand.

"Was sorta hoping we leave the cops out of the whole situation, for both our sakes," Glenn explained, guilt lacing his voice as he sidestepped the obvious request: please don't call the cops on my son.

Once again, Joel deferred to you. You were still reeling from the fact Joel put Brooks in the fucking hospital, and now both men were looking for you to make the ultimate decision.

"It- it's fine," you stammered, "I don't want either of you to get in trouble," you added, looking at Joel now.

Both men appeared visibly relieved.

"I appreciate that more than you know," Glenn told you, drawing your gaze off Joel. "I promise you, he'll be dealt with. Mary and I had a tough conversation this morning but we've both agreed to leave the business solely with Trevor and focus on getting Brooks the help he needs."

"That's probably for the best," Joel replied.

Glenn gave you each a sad smile before taking a deep breath and standing with a groan.

"I'll get outta your hair now. Been a long night for everyone, but I'm still hoping I'll see you Friday night for dinner. Not much time left now to enjoy the island and I'd like to announce my decision to the group."

Joel stood while you remained curled up on the couch.

"'Course. Well, dependin' on how she feels," he said, glancing down at you. You gave him a small smile in agreement before he stepped forward to walk Glenn to the door. You could hear the two men talking quietly in the foyer, something about Mary finding a good rehab facility on a neighboring island, but your head was beginning to pound from a combination of what you just learned and the bruise under your eye to really pay much attention.

"Are you okay?" Joel asked the moment the door clicked shut behind Glenn. You looked up to see him crossing the room with a concerned look on his face. "That was a lot. I-I'm sorry, I could tell you were overwhelmed-"

"Why didn't you tell me about the land?"

He stopped a few feet away from you and looked over his shoulder where your phone and purse remained on the dining room table.

"I did. I texted you last night, but," he turned back around, guilt flashing across his face. "Couldn't tell you in person after what happened. Thought I lost it and didn't wanna upset you."

"Oh," you said softly, blinking slowly a few times before standing. "You... he had to go to the hospital?"

Joel chewed his lower lip nervously and nodded, fingers fidgeting at his sides while he tried to read your expression. He wanted to go to you. He wanted to pull you close and explain everything, but he was terrified of scaring you off. Now that he had a taste of you, he knew deep down if he lost you, he would never recover.

Now you'll understand the type of man he is. The type of man that stops at nothing to get what he wants. The type of man who hurts people if he has to, regardless of who they are.

But then, to his surprise, you closed the gap between you and wrapped your arms around him, wordlessly burying your face against his chest. He immediately responded, exhaling loudly and cocooning you in his arms. A few strands of your hair fluttered when he pressed his mouth against the top of your head and closed his eyes.

It was bliss, having you tucked into him. Your perfect, soft body pressed against his made him wonder why the hell he resisted you for so long. You didn't run when you learned what he was capable of, maybe you wouldn't run if you learned the rest.

"It's almost noon," you mumbled, pulling your head back to gaze up at him. "What do you want to do today?"

He grinned and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"Anything you want."

The Holi Festival was a colorful and beautiful celebration of love and good over evil. You learned this very quickly when you were strolling the streets hand in hand after lunch, drawn to the noise and music in the center of the little town.

You let out a squeal of excitement and squeezed Joel's hand when you turned the corner and saw the festival in full swing. Rich scents of sweet and savory foods filled the air and vibrant colors of powder paint were tossed around, coating everybody and everything in vivid bright pinks, yellows, greens and blues. It took your breath away. Never in your life had you ever seen something so unique and beautiful. Smiling faces filled the town square with buckets of colorful powder scattered around. Hands dipped into jars and bowls, scooping up the paint to brush against loved one's faces, decorating everybody in the most beautiful colors.

You tried to hang back and just observe, but the Indo-Fijians were such a lovely people that they ushered you over, excited to include you even if you didn't fully understand the meaning behind the festival. Initially, you expected Joel to pull you back, to say you should keep walking, but shockingly he was just as intrigued as you. A sweet young woman named Lia brought you over to a covered area where her family had set up chairs and tables filled with plates and food and a small speaker blaring Indian music.

"May I?" she asked, pointing to the powders on the curb. You grinned and looked up at Joel, practically bouncing from excitement. And how could he say no? After what you had been through, anything that made you smile that much was worth it.

You nodded and dropped his hand so you could sit down and let Lia apply the paints as she saw fit. Initially, you thought the colors were random, that it was more of an aesthetic thing, but she paused and contemplated her choices, her dark brown eyes shifting back and forth between you and Joel before smiling and scooping up a handful of red paint and smearing it carefully over your face, avoiding your injuries and not asking any questions.

"What does the red symbolize?" you asked when you stood to look at your reflection in a small hand mirror. She only laughed and said, "You'll see."

She applied a lime green paint to Joel's cheeks, telling him the same thing when he asked the meaning, then offered you each a plate of food. You declined, explaining you just ate, and thanked her for her hospitality before venturing back out onto the street. Live music was starting two blocks down and an area was being cleared for dancing. You both found a bench just outside of the main area to sit together and enjoy the festivities, commenting on the outfits, the music, the dancing, the overall beauty of the festival with your legs slung across his lap until the sun began to dip below the trees and the children were ushered home to bed.

"We oughta get outta here before the real fun starts," Joel joked, standing from the bench and holding out his hand. You took it and let him help you up, then walked slowly back in the general direction of your hotel.

"I'm so happy you won the land," you told him, hand wrapping around his bicep and head tilting to rest against his arm. "These people and this island are so lovely. I can see why Glenn cares about it so much."

"Was thinkin' of offerin' that artist you liked a job," Joel said, "if they want to, I could commission 'em to paint for the hotel. Everythin' from the lobby to the rooms."

"Really?" you said excitedly. He nodded and grinned, pleased he could make you so happy.

You stopped in the middle of the street and turned to stretch up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips gently against his.

"Careful," he murmured, yet made no move to pull away, the taste of your lips so sweet and still coated in sugar from the pastry-type dessert he bought from a street vendor.

"It doesn't hurt so much now," you told him, looking up at him through your lashes. Joel swallowed tightly, his eyes roaming all over your face, still painted bright red. He brought a hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb gliding slowly over your cheek, swiping through the paint and leaving a trail up towards your ear, up where his hand got lost in your hair and his mouth hungrily found yours again. People in a nearby cafe were laughing and across the street, two dogs were barking at one another while their owners tried to break them apart but as far as either one of you were concerned, you were completely alone.

Joel leaned into the kiss, fingers threading through your hair, clutching you to him as he struggled to be gentle. He had to be careful with you. You were still fragile, despite what you might say. But god, did he want you. Every single thing about you drove him wild. Your taste, your smell, your laugh, the little crease between your eyebrows when you were worried, the strands of hair that were too short to tuck behind your ear and frequently dangled in front of your eyes. Your entire presence cocooned around him to the point where it drove him insane.

"We should celebrate," you panted, tipping your head back to break the kiss. He dragged in deep breaths, fighting for air and staring down into your lust filled eyes, no doubt mirroring his own. "You got what you came here for."

"Then let's celebrate," he mumbled, brain wrapped in a rosy haze, drunk from your kiss alone.

He leaned in again, uncaring of any pedestrians passing by and doing a double take at your very public display of affection, but you giggled and dodged him, making his lips curve up into a playful smile right before he pressed a kiss behind your ear.

"W-what do you want to do to celebrate?" you asked, eyes sliding closed, body melting into his hold as he continued to kiss your neck. "Do you want to get a drink somewhere, or - shit," you moaned softly when his hands pulled your hips against his to feel his erection through his jeans. "Or maybe we can find that place that has fire dancers."

"I wanna go back to the room," he whispered in your ear, "and I wanna take a shower."

"Okay," you breathed, eyelids fluttering as you continued to fall under his spell.

"And I want you to shower with me."

"Yes, that's a great idea," you breathlessly agreed, breaking away and swiveling around in his arms to practically drag him the remaining few blocks to your hotel.

You felt like you were floating.

Soap mixed with red and green circled the drain. Steam swirled around you, the warmth from the shower making your sticky skin even hotter. You felt boneless, mouth agape and fingers shaky from the way Joel knelt before you, licking and sucking ruthlessly at your center. Knowing he wouldn't be able to kiss you the way he really wanted, he was taking out all his frustration right between your legs, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were weak. So weak in every possible way for him that if you had a choice, you would succumb and slink to the shower floor. But his broad shoulders hoisted you up, his big hands gripped your hip and thigh, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall.

Rivulets of water dripped down your neck, arms, and stomach, leaving trails down your overly sensitive skin, making you shudder and gasp. The build up was too intense that it was ruining you and he hadn't even fucked you yet. The walk back to the hotel was interrupted when Joel couldn't wait a second longer and he tugged you into a narrow alley. He dragged his mouth as lightly as he could over yours while his hand found its way between your legs, two fingers rubbing firm circles over the damp fabric of your panties until neither of you could stand it any longer. He tugged your underwear to the side and sunk both fingers inside you, his body blocking you from being seen by anyone who might have caught a glimpse from the street.

Your fingers clutched desperately at his shirt, one of the shirts you had picked out for him on your first day on the island, and you whimpered against his lips or throat, anywhere you could find to try and stabilize yourself while he tore you apart. His name fell from your lips over and over, your face scrunched up in concentration and jaw clenched tightly until your climax washed over you and every muscle relaxed, every word dying on your tongue until you nearly collapsed.

The ache between your legs was soothed, but it only served to make Joel hungrier and more desperate.

You figured that out when he rushed you into the shower, pushing you up against the glass wall and falling to his knees before the water was even warm. Streaks of green dripped down his face and stained his beard while his tongue swirled and sucked at your clit with a deep groan, which was the same position you found yourself ten minutes later on the brink of your second orgasm that threatened to destroy you from the inside out.

And you were almost there, teetering on the edge when his eyes flashed open and locked onto yours. He looked different, then. Like he was finally letting down those walls and showing you everything. You saw a myriad of emotions behind his eyes: longing and lust mixing with adoration and warmth. It sent you careening into your next orgasm, shouting his name so loud your throat fucking hurt, your voice bouncing and echoing inside the glass walls.

He pulled away looking pleased, mouth and beard all shiny and slick, eyes never leaving yours as you struggled to come back to earth.

Carefully, he set you down on wobbly legs, giving you a smug smirk before angling his face towards the luxurious rainfall shower head. He rinsed off the rest of the green paint before wetting a washcloth and turning back to you. With all the care in the world, he tipped your chin up, his thumb pressing gently into the soft flesh between your jaw while he worked on cleaning your face next. You gazed up at him with a soft, stupid expression, but you couldn't help yourself. You'd never felt more relaxed and at peace in your life, and it was all because of him.

Him. This man you once deemed haughty, conceited, rude, and brash you now viewed with so much affection that it would have rattled you if he gave you a chance to come up for air.

Joel ushered you forward, rinsing your hair and warming you up under the steady stream of water before squirting some citrusy smelling shampoo in his palm and gently combing it through your hair. You sighed and tipped your head back, body betraying your still very desperate need for him. His thick fingers gingerly rinsing the soap from your hair was so relaxing, you thought you might fall asleep standing up. That is, until you felt his cock, still hanging hard and heavy between his legs, nudge against your hip and your eyelids snapped open.

"We don't gotta," he assured you, voice deep and soft behind you. "Been a long day."

You snaked your hand behind you and wrapped your fist around him. He hissed and his fingers in your hair faltered for a moment as you slowly stroked him up and down.

"I want it," you begged, voice still raw. His cock twitched in your palm and you heard his breath stutter before he leaned down to press a wet kiss against the crook of your neck.

"You sure?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, working your hand a little faster. The glass had steamed up but you could still see his reflection, his brows pinched and jaw hung open, allowing himself to enjoy your hand on him for just another moment more before gripping your shoulder and walking you towards the wall. He took both your wrists, shushing your whine when you were forced to let him go, and placed your open palms against the glass.

A thrill of excitement shot through you when he knocked your ankle to the side with his foot. You immediately widened your stance and arched your back, anticipating exactly what he wanted.

"So pretty," he murmured behind you, his palm sliding down your shoulder, over your back and wrapping around your hip. You tried to peer at him in the reflection of the glass but your own nervous exhale was clouding your limited view.

You jumped a little when the tip of his cock slid through your folds, coating himself in your arousal. He chuckled before leaning down and biting playfully at your earlobe.

"Sensitive?"

You nodded and closed your eyes when he notched himself at your entrance. And somehow, your cunt still ached for him despite the two orgasms he already gave you in the past hour.

You lifted yourself onto the tips of your toes and gasped when he pushed inside, the stretch burning yet it still felt so fucking good. You moaned and pressed your wet forehead to the foggy glass wall, relishing in the way he filled you so perfectly when he sunk the rest of the way inside you.

"Fuck, so tight," Joel groaned into your hair. "So tight, 'n so fuckin' good," he added, voice a little shaky when he first dragged his hips back just to slam them into you again. He set a steady pace right away, his need for you way too fucking high after watching you come on his fingers and tongue.

"Oh, god," you whimpered, fingers clawing fruitlessly against the slippery wall as he fucked you, knocking your cheek and shoulders into the glass over and over and over again with each impossibly deep thrust.

"You're the most beautiful fuckin' thing," he growled in your ear, the fast puffs of exhale leaving his pursed lips sending goosebumps over your skin. "Drive me crazy, you got no idea. No idea how bad I want this, want you."

You whined and squirmed in his grasp, cock reaching a place so deep inside you that it had your mind going blank and your vision going blurry with tears.

"Yeah, you like that, huh?" he rasped, teeth scraping delicately over your skin, hands roaming freely over your body, claiming every inch of you as his. "Take it so fuckin' good, baby, shit," he ground his molars together, pounding into you harder now while your fingers curled into tight fists against the steamy glass. "That's my girl, so good f'me. So fuckin' good f'me," he rambled like a mad man, unable to stop himself now from selfishly chasing his high when he was so close. But he wasn't that selfish. He needed to make sure you came, too.

He snaked his arms around your front, one hand finding your nipple, pinching and rolling it between two fingers while his other dropped past your waist to rub tight circles over your clit. You cried out, face twisting as you did your best to give him what he wanted, but you were so sensitive that the pleasure bordered on pain.

"Tell me what you need," he demanded, sensing the tension in your muscles. When you struggled to answer, he slowed his hips and your eyes flew open.

"Don't stop."

"Then talk to me," he pleaded, "tell me-"

"Say it again," you groaned, pushing your ass back.

"Say what?" he panted, grinding his hips against you.

"Say..." you cursed under your breath, eyelids fluttering when the finger he had over your clit added the slightest bit more pressure. "Say... I'm your girl," you told him, embarrassment flooding your cheeks the moment you asked.

He grinned and descended upon your neck, sucking and biting at the tender spot behind your ear so when he lifted his mouth and whispered, "You're my girl," there was no way you could miss it over the splashing of water against the tile and glass. Almost as if it were a command, your muscles stiffened and you moaned softly, too tired and too spent to offer much else as your orgasm slowly rolled through you, clenching down around his aching cock, practically milking him with each pulse and flutter of your cunt.

"Fuck, that's it," he muttered, pulling back so he could watch himself disappear inside you over and over. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! You- you like that? Hm? That's all it took?"

He could feel the liquid heat pooling low in his belly and creeping up his spine, seconds away from his own release.

"Shit, baby, y'know you're mine. All - fuckin' - mine," he grunted, punctuating each word with a harsh snap of his hips. Your body was so soft now that he made you come for a third time, so tired and pliant, but still eager to give him what he needed. "My girl... all mine... my girl..." he muttered over and over when his grip on your ribs suddenly tightened and he spilled inside you with a deep groan, hips jolting into you haphazardly as he emptied himself into your waiting pussy, thrusting upwards until he felt his spend leak out of you and back down his shaft.

"Fuck, baby," he gasped, breath shaky and uneven against the back of your head. His vision was a little wobbly but he blinked it away. He could feel you were beginning to slip, all your strength having been sapped, and if he wasn't so exhausted himself, he might have felt a flash of pride.

"Ah," he grunted softly when he slipped out of your wet clutch, and sure enough your hips immediately dropped and your legs trembled so he tightened his hold around your middle and pulled you up, pressing your back against his chest.

"I gotcha, c'mon," he murmured, leading you to the opposite side of the shower where a built in bench sat with only a few toiletries on top. You slumped down, resting your cheek against the cool tile wall and wrapping your arms around yourself while he found a fresh washcloth and soaked it under the spray of the shower so he could clean you up.

"You're cold," he remarked when he noticed your goosebumps. Your tired, glazed over eyes found his but you didn't respond, so he scooped you up by your underarms and held you against him under the warm water until you came alive again.

"You did so good," he praised, closing his eyes as the water cascaded down both your bodies.

"'M s'tired," you mumbled, and he nodded before shutting off the water and leading you to the glass door. He grabbed a pristine white robe and wrapped it around your shoulders, cinching the tie tight before getting one for himself and helping you to his bed.

"What'dya need? I got water right here," he told you, pointing to the bottle of cold water on the nightstand. Your nightstand.

"Nothing. Just you," you said sleepily, reaching feeble little arms out underneath the covers for him. He grinned and shed his robe before climbing into bed and curling around you, tugging you close and keeping you warm.

"You got me," he said when your eyelids began to droop and your body melted into his. Only when your breathing slowed and he was fairly confident you were on the brink of sleep did he softly add, "You've always had me," then nuzzled his face against the back of your neck and closed his eyes.

Only a few more days! I know you're just overjoyed to leave paradise and come back home to me

You grinned at your text from Celine, Joel's heavy arm still draped protectively around your waist and snoring softly next to you in the morning light.

I miss you so much!! But I'll miss this place, too. I have sooooo much to tell you

You watched as the three little dots appeared and disappeared a few times before her next text appeared.

Tell me now!! You slept with him, didn't you?

You chewed on your lip and glanced quickly at Joel, confirming he was still asleep before answering.

Maybe

YOU SLUT!

You stifled a giggle but Joel felt the muscles in your stomach jump. You dropped your phone to your chest when he inhaled deeply and stretched a bit under the covers. When you determined he was still fast asleep, you lifted your phone back up to answer, only to find another text from Celine waiting for you.

What does this mean then? Is he paying you more? He fucking better

You knew she didn't mean it, but her text was like a punch in the gut. You didn't want money for sleeping with him. What you really wanted was him, but you had no idea what the past few days meant to him. And you definitely didn't know how to ask him if your relationship would continue after you left the island.

Based on your previous conversations, he didn't seem like a 'relationship guy', so that left two options: him saying no, or him offering to keep you employed as a sugar baby. Both made your stomach churn.

Suddenly, the thought of him paying you for anything made you feel sick. You signed a contract and he was very generous: three months of rent and utilities plus twenty grand, not to mention whatever tip money he had given you that was still buried and unopened in the bottom of your bag. But in that moment, lying next to him in bed surrounded by his warmth and a dull soreness between your legs, you realized you didn't want a single cent. You only wanted one thing and you were terrified he couldn't, or wouldn't, give it to you.

He's paying me way more than he should - I gtg but I'll let you know when I'm on my way home <3

Love you! Enjoy the last piece of paradise for me!

"You're up early," he mumbled with his eyes still closed. His voice was so gravelly and thick with sleep that it had you wilting in a mere moment.

You should have known right then and there that you were in too deep, that you stood a very real chance at getting hurt, but you were too wrapped up in the little bubble you found yourselves in to see it.

"It's actually not that early," you teased, turning on your side to face him, his hands sliding around your waist and then lower to cup your ass. He kept his eyes closed but the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk. Fuck, he looked so good in the morning, all bare chested with tangled, messy hair. You didn't stand a chance. "It's just past nine," you added, tugging your lower lip between your teeth to try and tamper the huge, dopey grin that threatened to stretch across your face.

Joel hummed and cracked an eyelid open to peer at you.

"I got a call at ten."

"Okay," you whispered, eyes drifting over his face, eager to memorize every little detail in the soft morning light. He grinned and opened his eyes all the way, looking at you like he was studying you in the exact same way.

"We have almost an hour," you said suggestively, then giggled when he barked out an incredulous laugh.

"Christ, you're insatiable," he chuckled before rolling onto his back and dragging a palm roughly over his face.

"I never said that! You're assuming something dirty when I was simply pointing out a fact."

"Oh, s'that it?" Joel asked, dropping his hand to his chest so he could look at you with a crooked smile.

"Mhmm," you hummed before resting the side of your head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his middle. He was so warm and it felt so nice to just lay with him, his hand soothingly drifting up and down your back while your finger traced invisible circles over his bare chest. Your thoughts inevitably wandered back to your brief conversation with Celine, wondering how you could bring up the elephant in the room.

Did he really expect this to end in a few short days? Was he just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time? You had nothing to compare it to, you had no idea what a typical sugar daddy relationship was like.

When you really thought about it, there wasn't much you truly knew about Joel. He never told you about his family, friends or exes. In fact, the only personal relationship you did know about was the one he had with Tammy.

Well, it was a start.

You cleared your throat nervously and he could immediately tell something was off.

"Somethin' on your mind?" he asked, offering you an opening.

It was now or never.

"Can I ask you something?" you began timidly. His fingers drifting aimlessly over your skin paused and he took a moment before answering.

"Sure," he replied slowly. Hesitantly.

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his eye, so you focused on tracing a small, old scar on his chest.

"Why did you... what made you... and Tammy..."

You cringed when you heard how stupid you sounded but he just sighed and resumed his soft strokes over your arm.

"Why was I fuckin' her?"

"Yeah," you confirmed sheepishly, bracing yourself for yet another non-answer.

"You ain't gonna like it," he warned, and at that you had to lift your chin to look at him.

"Why?"

His eyes dropped to meet your gaze and you could see him struggling to respond.

"I told you. I ain't a good man," he told you quietly, his tone laced with guilt.

This was it. You were finally going to find out what had been holding Joel back all this time. You swallowed and wordlessly urged him to continue.

"Y'know what the LHW Awards are?"

You shook your head and his eyes drifted to the ceiling.

"Every year, hotels 'round the world get nominated for these awards. There's different categories, it's very competitive and they ain't easy to win," he continued. "Two years ago, I got my first nomination: best hotel in North America."

Joel paused as you tried to piece together how this related to Tammy. Then he added, "Scott was also nominated, same category," and the gears in your head began to turn.

"You didn't win," you said matter-of-factly. Joel shook his head.

"No, I didn't."

"But Scott did."

"Yes."

You took a deep breath, finally connecting the dots.

"So you were pissed..." you began.

"And I fucked his wife."

"Oh," you replied, surprised at his bluntness.

"Told you," he reminded you. "It was stupid, I was angry and knew she always had a thing for me. It was only supposed to be one time, but..." he trailed off, still avoiding your eye. "I don't know. Was a lot easier bein' with someone when it was convenient, someone who had their all their cards on the table and I didn't have to worry 'bout takin' advantage of me for my money. Not when she had so much to lose."

"Oh," you said again, unable to come up with anything else to say. And you tried, you really did, not to draw a comparison between your relationship with Joel and his relationship with Tammy, but it was hard not to notice the similarities. A relationship of convenience, a contract in place to protect his wealth... but what you had together was different. Right? There was no possible way he cared for Tammy as affectionately the way he did with you.

"What're you thinkin'?" he asked, and you swore he sounded a little nervous.

"Did... did you love her?"

"No," he said immediately, "never been in love, remember?"

"Right," you whispered, vaguely remembering that day in the pool. Ain't sure it's in the cards for me. You rubbed your eyes and slipped out of his hold, sitting up in bed with the sheet loosely covering your upper body. "Did she love you?"

Joel hesitated and you tore your gaze away from your tangled fingers to look at his shame filled face.

"Maybe. She never said but I had a feelin'."

You nodded and let your eyes drift towards the glass doors facing the ocean, watching as small waves crashed on the shore.

"Is that why you broke things off?" you asked bravely, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

Feeling bad for Tammy was definitely not something you expected to feel, but now having learned more about her relationship with Joel, her actions began to make a little more sense. She was hurt.

"I broke it off 'cause I was tryin' to protect her," Joel explained when he saw the look on your face. "I knew I couldn't give her what she wanted and I didn't wanna lead her on."

"Yeah, I get it," you told him. You felt uneasy but you pushed it away, vowing to deal with it another time. The important thing was Joel opened up to you. He told you something he very clearly didn't plan on sharing, something that he carried with great guilt and shame. Maybe now that he got it off his chest, he would stop thinking he was such a bad man and let you in. You reached for his hand and he looked up at you in surprise.

"I understand," you told him, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

"You think any less of me now?" he asked sarcastically with a smirk, but you could see the truth behind his eyes. He tried to pass it off as a joke, but he needed to hear you say it.

"No," you whispered, leaning down to press a tender kiss against his lips. He hummed under his breath and stole one more kiss before you straightened back up. "Thank you for being honest with me."

He grinned and stared down at your fingers still interlaced with his, wondering if this time might actually be different.

Despite the lingering apprehension that clung to you after Joel's confession, the last few days spent on the island were nothing short of perfect. So much so that it had you foolishly forgetting your arrangement together.

Joel did have to work during the days, but he found pockets of time between meetings to find you by the pool if you weren't out spending time with Zoe. And it was hardly your fault, really, for allowing yourself to lean into those fantasies when Joel's hands or lips always found your skin whenever he was around.

In the evenings, he took you to restaurants. Now that Glenn's decision was made, Joel had plenty of time for you. He even took you to a restaurant that had fire dancers perform on the beach, remembering you had mentioned wanting to see them days prior.

And once dinner was over, he always took you back to his bed. The only reason you stepped foot into your old room was to grab some clothes or a book. Some nights he fucked you, some nights he just held you close while you tried not to think about your trip coming to an end. If it weighed heavily on Joel's mind, he didn't show it. He remained laser focused on his goal right up until the end.

"What are you so nervous for?" you asked him as you leaned over one of the two sinks in his bathroom to apply your makeup. It was the night Glenn planned on announcing Joel as his pick, and his nerves were showing. His fidgeting in the mirror over the second sink was distracting. "He told you the land is yours."

"Yeah but until I got a contract, it ain't real," he told you, grumbling when he realized the buttons on his linen shirt were mismatched and he had to start over.

You put the last of your makeup into your bag and turned to him with a sigh, slapping his hands away so you could redo his buttons for him.

"You and your contracts," you teased, gaze focused on his shirt so you didn't have to look him in the eye when you made the first real reference to your arrangement in over a week.

Either Joel wasn't thinking about it the way you were or it went right over his head because he just tugged you closer with a seductive smile and murmured, "Can y'blame me? You woulda left the first week if I didn't have you sign that piece of paper."

Okay, so maybe you needed to leave stronger hints.

"How do you know?" you countered, still slowly buttoning his shirt.

Joel chuckled. "You didn't like me all that much when we got here."

You grinned and shrugged before lightly replying, "That's not true. I liked you," then nervously cleared your throat before adding, "Maybe not as much as I do now, but I liked you."

"Yeah? Y'liked me enough to stay here a whole month without me promisin' you twenty grand?" he asked playfully, still smirking to himself in the mirror as he fixed a few stray pieces of hair and you finished your work on his buttons.

"Yes."

When he heard the serious tone in your voice, his hands fell to his sides and his eyes dropped to meet yours, the smile slowly fading from his face when he confirmed you weren't joking.

You held your breath as the implication of what you said settled in. You could see him struggling with what to say and you fought the urge to fill the silence with your own nervous babbling. Instead, you watched him scan your face for any sign of insincerity, only to find none.

"Darlin'-"

Your heart plummeted when you both heard his phone chirp loudly on the white quartz countertop, ending the moment when he reached for it to announce your car was waiting downstairs.

But just when you thought you lost your chance and you began to gather a few things to shove into your purse, Joel stopped you with a gentle pinch to your chin.

"We'll talk 'bout this later, okay?"

You gave him a little smile and nodded before he released you to tuck in his shirt, walking out of the bathroom.

It wasn't a surprise that it was all you were thinking about the entire evening. You made sure to only have one drink, just enough to calm your nerves but keep your mind clear.

"Your lip looks really good. You can hardly tell anything happened," Zoe said quietly from the chair next to you at the long dinner table set up on the patio. Glenn and Mary had decided to host dinner at their house for everyone's last night on the island and it was the perfect night to be outside, the weather was gorgeous.

"Thanks. I got pretty creative with makeup," you joked, looking away from the empty chair at the other end of the table that no doubt was meant for Brooks, who had not shown up for dinner. You couldn't be sure if it was by choice or if he was still bedridden from whatever Joel did to him, but either way you were relieved not to have to face him again.

"I still have so much to pack," Zoe groaned, pushing around some scallops on her plate. "I'm gonna be up all night. What about you?"

"Yeah, same," you admitted, "I haven't even started yet."

"Guess that's the beauty of flying private... we can afford to be a little late!" she giggled, and you laughed with her, grateful for the brief distraction.

After dinner was cleared and dessert was about to be served, Glenn stood with a warm smile and tapped the side of his wine glass with a spoon, pulling everyone's attention within seconds.

"Oh, shit, here we go," Zoe muttered on your right side while Joel's hand found yours on the left, his thumb nervously fiddling with your ring.

"Mary and I wanted to thank each and every one of you for spending the last month on our little island," Glenn began, glancing lovingly down at his wife. "It's been wonderful getting to know all of you better, and we've loved sharing this slice of paradise with you."

His gaze drifted around the table, looking everyone in the eye before taking a deep breath.

"But this place is more than just paradise to us. This place is home. We love it here, we love the people and the culture and it's always been our top priority to make sure anybody who buys a plot of land here is the right fit." Glenn linked his fingers together to emphasize his point before continuing.

"We think of the locals here as our family, and it's no secret how important family is to us. So, when we made our decision on who should get this last piece of land, me and Mary took into consideration who would represent these core values of family and community. And I'll tell you all, it was not an easy decision," Glenn said with a soft laugh. "You all are wonderful people and I know any one of you would do wonderful things with this land, but unfortunately we can't fit five resorts into that plot."

A ripple of nervous laughter swept through the group. Joel squeezed your hand, his eyes still glued to Glenn standing at the head of the table. Then Glenn's gaze landed on Joel and he smiled while raising his glass.

"Joel... spot's all yours, buddy."

The table erupted into polite applause and Joel instantly turned to cup your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, then stood. He rounded the table to shake Glenn's hand and give Mary a hug while Zoe excitedly pinched your side.

"You better invite me to your wedding, I'm already dying for an excuse to come back here."

"Huh?" you asked, sounded delirious with all the commotion. By that point, everyone was standing to congratulate Joel and exchange polite words with Glenn and Mary, thanking them for their consideration and hospitality.

"Didn't you say you'd get married at the new hotel?" Zoe asked, tilting your head to the side. Then you remembered what you had said on the yacht and jokingly knocked the heel of your hand against your head.

"Yeah, duh. Of course you'll be invited, sorry, I think I forgot for a second," you laughed. Then you noticed Tammy down the table and you froze. She and Lynne were clearly pissed off, whispering angrily to one another with their faces all flushed and their perfectly manicured nails pointing in your direction and you frowned.

"What the hell's their problem?"

Zoe swiveled around then shrugged before turning back to you.

"Probably jealous Joel won."

Then Mary came bustling over to give you a hug, pulling your attention away from the other women and telling you she was so excited to spend more time together before lowering her voice and tearfully apologizing for her son's behavior.

"We sent him over to a facility this morning," she told you, her fingers wrapping around your wrists. You could see the despair in her eye and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. At the end of the day, she was a mother worried for her son and for that, you couldn't fault her.

"I really hope he gets the help he needs," you told her sincerely.

"He went willingly. It took some convincing, but he came around and agreed he needed to get some help. I don't know where we went wrong..." she began, but you quickly shook your head.

"Oh, it's not your fault," you told her. "Everyone makes their own decisions and you just do the best you can to support the ones you love."

Mary smiled shakily at you and blinked back her tears.

"You'll make a wonderful mother one day, dear," she said. You laughed nervously and shook your head.

"Maybe in a few years," you told her.

One of the caterers gently tapped Mary's elbow, diverting her attention from you with an apologetic smile. You turned back to Zoe and glanced down at her empty glass.

What the hell. Two drinks wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, you were celebrating.

"Want to pop inside real quick and raid the bar?" you asked her with a wink. She giggled and nodded before trotting after you.

"I know they have caterers, but I always thought I'd make a good bartender," you joked, sliding behind the wet bar attached to their dining room. "What can I get you, Miss?" you asked, giving yourself a fake accent as you pretended to polish an already spotless glass. Zoe laughed and hopped up onto a barstool.

"How about a mojito?"

Your hands paused on the glass and you narrowed your eyes at her, knowing full well she was messing with you and not expecting you to muddle mint and lime.

"Try again."

She tipped her head back and laughed louder this time, covering up the sharp rap of expensive high heels echoing off the marble floors, heading your way.

"Umm... do you have any white wine?"

You glanced down at the mini fridge and grinned.

"That I can do."

You pulled out a bottle and studied the label, having no idea if it was expensive or not but it was already opened so you figured it was fair game. Right when you popped the cork, Lynne and Tammy rounded the corner looking like they were on a mission.

"You!"

You and Zoe exchanged confused looks before turning back to the two women.

"Me?" you asked, pointing at your chest even though it was fairly obvious.

"Yes," Tammy hissed, coming closer to lean over the bar. Zoe scowled when Lynne squeezed her way in, encroaching on her personal space in the process.

"This is bullshit," Tammy snapped. "They only picked Joel because of Brooks and what he did. You probably encouraged it, didn't you? Tried to make something happen so Glenn would feel guilty and give Joel the land!"

You were so shocked, you lost your voice for a moment, only remembering to look at Zoe in disbelief.

"How the hell did you know about that?" Zoe argued, a good question that hadn't even occurred to you yet.

"Oh, please," Lynne said, waving her off as if she were an annoying fly. "We were right there in the restaurant, remember? The wait staff heard what happened and told us before you had even gotten into the car."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" you exclaimed, your brain finally catching up. "I certainly didn't ask for him to shove my face into the sink, what kind of fucked up question is that?"

Tammy snorted and crossed her arms. "I wouldn't put it past you. I wouldn't put it past either of you."

"Excuse me?" Zoe asked, standing up.

"Not you," Tammy said with a roll of her eyes. "Her and Joel."

You frowned, confused, until you remembered how Joel ending things with her and then it started to make sense.

"Listen," you said calmly, "I know you might still need some closure or something-"

"W-what?" Tammy sputtered, anxiously looking between you and the other women. It was clear she didn't think they knew, and maybe Lynne didn't, so you changed course.

"We can talk about what happened in private, if you prefer-"

"I have nothing to say to you," she spat. "Both of you are fucked in the head, you know that? Misleading poor Glenn like this, pretending like Joel is this sweet, caring family man. You know damn well if I tell Glenn the truth about Joel's daughter and brother, he never would get that land."

Tammy kept talking but all you could hear was a high pitched ringing in your ears. Brother? Daughter? Joel has a fucking daughter? Not once did Joel ever allude anything about his family when he was with you, but somehow Tammy knew?

"Shut the hell up!" you finally yelled. Surprisingly, Tammy's mouth clamped shut. "You think you're any better? Pretending to have this perfect marriage with your college sweetheart when two weeks ago you were trying to get my fiancé to fuck you in the bathroom of an art gallery?"

Lynne gasped and Zoe cackled into the palm of her hand while Tammy remained frozen.

"You could run out there right now and tell Glenn whatever it is you think you know, but if you do that, I'll be sure to tell Scott everything I know," you seethed, gripping the edge of the bar so tightly your fingers were beginning to hurt. "Would it be worth it? Hm? Because if Joel doesn't get that land, guess what? He'll be just fine. But you won't," you said, voice dropping to a threatening level. "Your marriage would be over. You'd have fucking nothing. So why don't you think real hard about what you want to say next."

Tammy's mouth opened and closed, her eyes darting around the room anxiously. It was clear you had her cornered. She finally scoffed and fixed a piece of hair before backing away from the bar.

"You're a bitch," she said lowly before turning on her heel to leave.

"Better than being a washed up old hag," Zoe called after her as Lynne hurriedly joined her side, disappearing down the hallway. Zoe turned back to you and burst out laughing.

"Maybe we need a couple shots instead," she said, shaking her head in shock. "I didn't know Joel had a daughter. How old is she?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Can we talk about it another time?" you asked weakly, leaning against the bar and hanging your head between your shoulders. It felt like you had just went twelve rounds and you were exhausted. Why wouldn't Joel tell you he had a daughter? Or a brother? And what the hell happened?

"Of course, yeah," Zoe said, quickly standing up to rub your back. "Want me to go get Joel?"

"Uh, no, that's okay," you said, rubbing your temples aggressively. "I think I'm getting a migraine, I'll find Joel myself so we can leave."

"God, I'm sorry. What a couple of bitches," Zoe said, wrapping an arm around you so she could lead you back outside. "You kicked ass, though. I'm proud of you, girl."

You laughed weakly as you both stepped through the glass doors, scanning the crowd of guests. "Thanks. And thanks for jumping in, too."

"No problem. Been waiting for my chance to knock that one down a peg," she said, giving you a kiss on your cheek when Joel spotted you and began to make his way over. "Hope you can at least celebrate," she added with a wink before disappearing to find Zachary.

"Hey," Joel said breathlessly with a huge smile. "Everythin' alright? Where'd you go?"

"Uh, actually I'm getting a bad headache," you told him, wincing when your fingertips pressed against your temple.

"Shit, alright, lemme say good night and we can go."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and gave you a quick kiss, cursing your body for still having a reaction to him when you knew you should be mad.

After you had each said your good byes, which were mercifully quick, Joel led you to the car with one hand placed lightly on your lower back and the other clutching his phone.

"I gotta make a quick call," he told you once you were settled in and on your way back to the hotel. You nodded and gazed out the window while Joel spoke to someone, presumably his lawyer, about drawing up a contract for the land. All the while, his free hand held yours, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your knuckles while he spoke, the excitement in his voice palpable.

You decided by the time you got back to the hotel, you would give him one chance to come clean. You swore to yourself you wouldn't hold it against him, that you wouldn't care how or why Tammy would know something so personal about him, just as long as he told you the truth.

He took you to his bedroom, like usual, and brought you water with some extra strength Tylenol. You stared at the two little pills sitting on your nightstand while he washed up in the bathroom. It was undeniable how happy he made you now, and with that came a great risk of getting hurt if he wasn't honest with you.

"Need anythin' else? I can call the front desk for whatever you want," Joel said when he exited the bathroom. You shook your head and slipped underneath the covers, blankly staring at the ceiling while he took off his watch and plugged in his phone. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest as you mentally psyched yourself up to ask him the question that had been on your mind for the past hour.

"Joel?"

His hand, which hovered over the switch on his lamp, pulled back when he turned to face you.

"Yeah?"

"When you told me you thought you weren't a good man," you began, fingers twisting the sheets nervously, "did you say that because of what you told me about you and Tammy, or is there... anything else?"

He paused and you closed your eyes, waiting for his answer.

Please. Please don't lie.

"No, that was it."

Tears immediately burned behind your eyes, like they were just lying in wait, knowing he would disappoint you.

"Are you sure?" you asked quietly. He cleared his throat and turned off his light before sliding between the sheets.

"Yep."

You nodded in the darkness and turned onto your side, away from him.

"Okay."

Meaning of Holi Festival Colors

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[neferaskingdom]

♡ Heart Eyes? More Like Death Glares | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Max and Y/N continue to pretend they absolutely, totally, 100% hate each other—like, seriously, they couldn’t possibly flirt less if they tried (spoiler: they’re not trying). Lando, George, and the rest of the grid are busy stirring the pot, calling out the obvious heart-eyes energy between them, while Max and Y/N would rather crash a golf cart into a wall than admit it. Instead of confessing, they resort to their usual routine of roasting each other online, dragging anyone who dares suggest they’re into each other. But hey, if threatening to run someone over with a golf cart isn’t romance, then what is?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N: someone help me I can't stop writing. and thank you everyone for all the love 😭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Part 2 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series : Part 1

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: Y/N and Max standing side by side at a paddock event, Max smirking while Y/N sticks her tongue out at him. Max’s arm is slung casually around her shoulders.

Caption: Guess I’ve decided to tolerate him. For now. But if he says one more thing about karting from 2006, I’m breaking his arm. 😘 maxverstappen1

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

I’m more concerned about your aim with the trophies. Not the arm. 😬

↪ y/n_leclerc:

I throw trophies with purpose. You should be scared.

charles_leclerc:

Am I seeing this right? Are you two…tolerating each other? I’m disturbed.

↪ landonorris:

charles_leclerc This is either the start of a rom-com or a murder documentary. There is no in-between.

redbullracing:

Max surviving Y/N’s wrath one weekend at a time. #PrayForMax 🙏

scuderiaferrari:

Sorry, Y/N’s under our protection. 🔴

danielricciardo:

This is giving “enemies to friends to lovers” energy. Just saying. 👀

user1:

THEY’RE TOUCHING. PEOPLE. THEY. ARE. TOUCHING. 🔥🔥🔥

user2:

Y/N has him in a chokehold. This man used to talk about winning, now all he talks about is Y/N. 😂

user3:

MAX. SMILING. WHILE SHE THREATENS HIM?? SIR, DO YOU NEED HELP????

user4:

“Guess I’ve decided to tolerate him” OKAY BUT THAT’S 2024 LOVE LANGUAGE.

user5:

ARM AROUND HER SHOULDERS ARE WE JUST GONNA IGNORE THAT?

maxverstappen1 posted a photo:

📸: Max and Y/N standing in front of a karting track, Max holding a first-place trophy with a smug grin while Y/N rolls her eyes, holding second place.

Caption: She tried. #StillTheKing 🏆y/n_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.

Comments:

y/n_leclerc:

MAX. I SWEAR. I WILL LAUNCH THAT TROPHY INTO THE STRATOSPHERE.

danielricciardo:

Max holding onto that 0.2-second win like his life depends on it. 😂

scuderiaferrari:

It’s a team sport, Y/N. We’ve got your back. 💪

↪ redbullracing:

Max doesn’t need backup, just speed. 😎

charles_leclerc:

I’ve never seen two people who love violence this much.

user6:

Y/N is gonna murder him in his sleep. You can see the murder in her eyes.

user7:

THE DRAMA. THE CHAOS. I need a live stream of this rivalry 24/7.

user8:

This man really can’t let the karting thing go, huh?

user9:

Not Max smiling like a kid who just stole candy, HELP. HE’S WHIPPED.

redbullracing tweeted:

We don't know if Max's biggest challenge this year is winning the championship or surviving Y/N's roasts.

Comments:

scuderiaferrari:

Y/N roasting Max is our favorite part of race weekends.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

I mean, I do provide quality entertainment.

↪ maxverstappen1:

Yeah, at my expense. 🙄

danielricciardo:

Max getting roasted by Y/N has become my new personality trait.

user13:

MAX FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE OUT HERE, SEND HELP.

user14:

“Surviving Y/N’s roast battles” is a bigger challenge than Charles winning Monaco. FACTS.

user15:

I swear, if Y/N roasts him into confessing his feelings, I’m DONE. 💀

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: A blurry photo of Y/N sneaking up behind Max and putting bunny ears over his head during a team meeting. Max looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Caption: Stealth mode activated. maxverstappen1, you’re welcome. 🤡

Liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, landonorris, and 450,786 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

You’re not as stealthy as you think, Y/N.

↪ y/n_leclerc

You were laughing, don’t even lie. 😏

redbullracing:

Max, blink twice if you need rescue.

scuderiaferrari:

We support this. 100%.

charles_leclerc:

This is becoming ridiculous. You two are like 12-year-olds at recess.

↪ landonorris:

charles_leclerc But like…flirty 12-year-olds.

user16:

The “I hate you but I’m gonna tease you all day” vibes are immaculate.

user17:

Imagine going from rivals to flirting openly on social media. Icon behavior.

user18:

Y/N’s gonna drag Max into the friend zone just to climb back out and wreck him emotionally. I’m CALLING IT.

y/n_leclerc posted a meme:

Caption: Max seeing literally anything and thinking it’s a win. Cute but tragic also hella fucking childish. 😏

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

I am a winner. I can’t help it. 😎

↪ y/n_leclerc:

The only thing you win at is being a nuisance. Congrats. 👏

danielricciardo:

Y/N ROASTS MAX AND MAX JUST SMILES?? WHO GAVE THEM THIS MUCH POWER?

user22:

He’s literally simping at this point. Max, blink twice if you need help.

user23:

Not Max and Y/N roasting each other like an old married couple. Someone hold me.

user24:

I swear they’re gonna end up confessing through memes.

y/n_leclerc tweeted:

Max Verstappen? More like Max Disturben my peace. Can someone collect him before I accidentally run him over with a golf cart? 🙄

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

You wouldn’t survive without me around to entertain you.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Max, if I wanted entertainment, I’d watch Ferrari’s strategy team at work. They’re more chaotic than you.

↪ landonorris:

Wow, so now we’re dragging Ferrari and Max? This is getting spicy. 🌶️

↪ charles_leclerc:

landonorris She drags Ferrari on a daily basis. I’ve accepted it. 😤

georgerussell63:

Y/N would 100% aim for Max with a golf cart and miss, then blame it on the steering.

↪ danielricciardo:

George, don’t give her any ideas. We don’t need Max in a hospital bed because Y/N can't drive straight. 😂

scuderiaferrari:

We don’t condone violence, but if it’s Max… 👀

↪ redbullracing:

Nice try, Ferrari. Max is bulletproof.

user1:

MAX DISTURBEN OMG I CAN’T BREATHE. 💀

user2:

The fact that y/n_leclerc almost ran him over with a golf cart is PEAK romance. I love it here.

user3:

Ferrari roasting their own strategy, Y/N dragging Max, AND Lando just living for the drama? ICONIC.

danielricciardo posted a meme:

Caption: Me, 100%. Honestly, watching them trying to flirt is more entertaining than Netflix. 🤣

Liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, y/n_leclerc, and 650,420 others.

Comments:

pierregasly:

Welcome to the chaos, Danny. We have memes and bad decisions.

maxverstappen1:

Why is everyone so obsessed with this? We’re not flirting.

↪ georgerussell63:

Max, mate, your whole personality is flirting with Y/N at this point. Just own it.

↪ danielricciardo:

georgerussell63 He’s in denial. It’s kinda cute. 😇

landonorris:

This entire thing is funnier than watching Max try to figure out TikTok. 😂

user4:

NOT GEORGE SAYING MAX’S PERSONALITY IS FLIRTING LMAO. HELP, I CAN’T.

user5:

Daniel dropping the truth bombs like Ferrari drops strategy. 🔥

user6:

Max: "We’re not flirting." Also Max: keeps posting selfies with Y/N and calling it ‘winning.’ 💀

user7:

Okay but why did girly pop like this?!? y/n_leclerc explain this sus behaviour

scuderiaferrari tweeted:

Y/N’s roast game is as strong as our engines. 🔥

Comments:

redbullracing:

Your roast game might be strong, but Max still wins every race. 😎

↪ scuderiaferrari:

You can have the races, we’ll take the memes. It’s all about priorities. 💅

maxverstappen1:

Can I just drive in peace?

↪ y/n_leclerc:

You wouldn’t know peace if it hit you with a tire gun.

mclaren:

We’re just here for the memes and the chaos. Carry on. 👀

user7:

THE TEAMS GETTING INVOLVED IS SENDING ME. THIS IS NEXT LEVEL.

user8:

“Max still wins every race” OKAY RED BULL COMING IN HOT WITH THE SALT. 💀

user9:

This has turned into the F1 version of Mean Girls and I am OBSESSED.

landonorris tweeted:

At this point, Max and Y/N are flirting so aggressively that I feel like we’re all third-wheeling their relationship. It’s giving “enemies-to-lovers.”

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Lando, are you high? We’re not flirting. We’re fighting. There’s a difference. 🤨

↪ y/n_leclerc:

landonorris Excuse you?? Flirting?!? I don’t even like looking at Max. I’d rather become a papaya wearing norizz supporter. 😤

↪ mclaren:

y/n_leclerc why the sudden papaya slander?

↪ landonorris:

Sure…fighting…with heart eyes, but okay. 👀

↪ maxverstappen1:

landonorris Do I look like I have “heart eyes” to you? Lando, have you forgotten what I do for a living? I destroy things. Mainly Y/N’s patience.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Lando, blink twice if you’ve lost your mind. Max is as appealing to me as wet socks.

↪ GeorgeRussell63:

Is this fighting? It looks like denial to me. 😏

↪ y/n_leclerc:

georgerussell63 Oh, I’ll fight you next, George. Keep testing me.

↪ maxverstappen1:

Yeah, George. Do you want to die?

landonorris:

Max threatening to fight people while Y/N fake-cries. The definition of an old married couple flirting and supporting each other

↪ y/n_leclerc:

MAX? FLIRT? With me?? Lando, I’ll race you backwards on a unicycle before I ever flirt with him. 🚫

↪ maxverstappen1:

landonorris The only “relationship” here is one where Y/N loses at everything. This isn’t flirting, this is winning. Learn the difference. 😎

↪ charles_leclerc:

This denial is strong. Like…Ferrari-level strong.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

charles_leclerc I WILL DELETE YOU FROM THE FAMILY. STOP THIS.

user1:

“I don’t even like looking at Max” is the funniest lie Y/N has ever told. 💀

user2:

The denial is STRONG in this one. They’re roasting everyone just to avoid the truth.

user3:

Max and Y/N: “We’re not flirting!” Also Max and Y/N: have entire conversations with heart eyes.

user4:

The way they’d rather start a fight than admit they’re into each other? ICONIC.

user5:

Y/N: “I’d rather become a papaya wearing norizz supporter.” OOF. That’s the kind of denial that needs therapy.

georgerussell63 posted a video:

🎥: George filming Y/N and Max mid-argument during a drivers’ briefing. Y/N is poking Max in the chest while Max smirks down at her.

Caption: Y/N and Max, doing what they do best: arguing like an old married couple. When’s the wedding? 💍

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, y/n_leclerc, and 700,432 others.

Comments:

y/n_leclerc:

GEORGE. DELETE THIS OR I’M SENDING YOU TO THE SHADOW REALM.

maxverstappen1:

You call this an argument? This is just foreplay. 😉

↪ y/n_leclerc:

MAX WHAT THE— TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW.

↪ charles_leclerc:

WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY

↪ landonorris:

Max, you said that way too casually. What’s going on here? 👀

↪ alex_albon:

“Foreplay”? I just dropped my phone. Max, you’re playing with fire.

↪ georgerussell63:

Oh no, this is staying up. The internet needs to see it. 😂

redbullracing:

We’re not saying this is a Red Bull-sponsored relationship…but 👀

↪ scuderiaferrari:

Can we take credit for this relationship too? We did provide Y/N, after all. 🤔

↪ y/n_leclerc:

THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP HERE YOU FUCKERS

user10:

DID MAX JUST SAY FOREPLAY? I CAN’T WITH THIS MAN, OMG. 💀

user11:

George stirring the pot is chef’s kiss. THE DRAMA.

user12:

Max has been WAITING to say something like that, I know it. The tension is REAL.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[loggiepj]

Crush

Cheerleader Wanda x Nerd Fem Reader Short Stories

Wanda walks in, wearing her school's cheerleading uniform, along with her friends Natasha, Maria and Carol. Every student in the hallway stares at them as they pass along, books falling from grasp, whistles from all corners and sound of clapping from the basketball team.

You on the other hand is busy with your camera, a vintage Olympus Pen EE-3. You are to meet Pietro in the school's darkroom to have the pictures you have taken earlier that morning developed. You are a senior transferee from a neighboring school and have only started three months ago, yet you have no problem finding friends like Pietro and Yelena.

Unaware of the popular girls heading your way, you accidentally bump into Wanda as they begin to turn around the corner.

"Watch where you're going!" Wanda yells when her uniform is ruined by the cup of coffee she is carrying.

"Shit, sorry, Wands," you apologize. You take tissues from your bag as you attempt to wipe the stain off her uniform.

"Oh, it's you, Y/n," Wanda says. Her demeanor has softened when she sees your pretty face, smiling from ear to ear. "It's okay, I brought a spare uniform in my locker. Why don't you buy me a cup of coffee instead as payback? Later at 4pm after cheer practice?"

You nod, breathless. "Yeah, sure, Wands. I'll see you later then."

Wanda smiles before leaning in to kiss your cheek, making you blush and frozen on the spot.

The girls then walk away, Natasha laughing with others. "Gosh, why is she so oblivious?"

Wanda sighs, wiping her uniform with the tissue you gave. "I don't know. I don't know if she even likes me."

"Come on, Wanda," Carol interrupts. "You're everybody's type."

"Not hers," she complains as as she arrives at her locker and takes the extra uniform she brought with her to school.

Wanda thinks it was love at first sight when she saw you in her house months ago, playing video games with her brother Pietro. You are in the same class as him. Wanda has heard about a new student starting that day and she has been so ecstatic to meet you and endorse her candidacy as the class president. She has no idea that you will take her breath away when meeting you.

Wanda is used to have a number of suitors, both boys and girls, but no one has caught her attention yet. Wanda thought being a cheerleader would help her romantically, but somehow she was never interested in anyone after a single date. She will probably die a virgin.

But when she hears you laugh, it is the most beautiful thing Wanda has ever heard in her life. And it has become her mission to get to know you and be hers.

The only downside to it is you never seem interested in her. In fact, you are the only one who hasn't asked her out. She tried to ask Pietro if you were dating someone and if you liked girls, but he was also unaware of the answers.

Unbeknownst to Wanda though, your cheeks never return back to normal as you head to the darkroom to find Pietro. You have been crushing on his sister for too long now, but you know you have no chance.

You're barely a nobody. While Wanda is part of the popular girls, you are just the school's newly assigned photographer.

You fell in love with Wanda when you took a picture of her in one of their cheerdancing practices, as ordered by the principal for the school newspaper.

You are basically a nerd, standing on the very last level of the food chain. She won't see you that way.

Wanda nods then turns back to her locker. She smiles as she brushes the selfie of you two together taped in her locker before closing.

But Wanda has seen you in every way.

"Come on, Wanda," Natasha calls, bringing Wanda back to the present. "We're going to be late for cheer practice."

Author's note: This will be a part of a series of short drabbles about Cheerleader Wanda, because I want to read more about Cheerleader Wanda but I don't have enough words to turn it into a fanfic. 😂✌

"Girls! Wait for me!" Wanda shouts as she runs towards her friends.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 10: Brother Dearest

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader "Petals."

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Only One Bed (This chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 9.7K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Manipulation, Gaslighting, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Sexual Tension, Shouting, Anger, Talks About Weed, Super Manipulative Trash Man Being Introduced, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled angst...

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It feels like you've only had thirty minutes of sleep when your body jerks upwards out of your bed to the sound of crashing and the shattering of pottery, followed by someone who doesn't sound like Ben shout "What the fuck?"

It had been a few days since you faced the supe with the ability to liquidize his form and after about five showers that included you scrubbing the skin of your body raw with both a luffa and a sugar scrub and gargling with Listerine until it felt like all your taste buds were burned off, you felt that you had rid yourself of the oppressive smell and taste of the supe.

Ben and you seemed to be falling in to a familiar pattern, he walked with you to work before going off to see what Butcher had planned for him and if he could Ben would always show up at the end of your shift to walk you home. Though each time he was less than friendly to Jake, who was still trying his upmost to get Ben to talk to him rather than Ben's usual half-grunts, shrugging shoulders, and death glares.

It wasn't working and you stopped trying to get Ben to be more friendly towards your boss, but it didn't make it any less unusual that Ben kept walking with you to and from work.

When you asked him why he walked with you he said that "You shouldn't be walking alone" which of course prompted the conversation of "I don't need a babysitter" and "I've been walking to the store for two years by myself" and him not listening to anything you said. That last bit was becoming more and more normal for the two of you.

So you rationalized that Ben was trying to be nicer to you because he wanted to try to be sort-of friends and you tried not to think about how it was making you have more feelings for him.

It was difficult not to like Ben when he was acting more friendly. When he actually made an effort to have conversations with you or sat with you quietly while you read or when he was walking with you to and from work and stopping along the way to get you coffee or your favorite tea. It was confusing to you why he was doing that, why someone who was so focused on sex was doing sweet things for you after you told him that you wouldn't sleep with him and was making you have deeper feelings for him.

So like a normal person you threw your frustration into your crocheting. Over the past week you had finished Annie's sweater, made four cat toys for Bean, and were currently working on a long cardigan sweater to send your grandmother who called last week to check in and had told you she needed a new one.

Ben had come with you to the craft store and hated every second of it. Not to mention each time you added a bundle of yarn to the basket you made him hold, he would ask "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" to which you responded "Learn quantum physics." Though Ben had been impressed with the knitting needles, thought that they could be useful enough to use for self defense and had embarrassed you when you turned around and found him trying to mime stabbing someone with them while the other people in the store watched him in horror.

You rolled out of bed and threw open your bedroom door before barreling down the darkly lit hallway and sliding into the living room on your crocheted leaf socks. "What is it?" You shout prepared for attack.

Unfortunately when you slide into the room, you do so with too much enthusiasm and you slip and fall, landing on your back with a loud groan.

That one hurt.

"You alright Petals?" You hear Ben ask from somewhere above you. It's not said in a teasing way, it's said in a growl.

Is he mad at me?

"Yep just testing if gravity is still working. It is, if you were curious." You cough out a laugh as you get up and realize that Ben isn't on the couch, he's standing in the middle of your kitchen holding someone by the lapels of his black oversized army jacket against your refrigerator.

Oh that's why he's mad.

The man is rail-thin, dressed completely in black, with hair so blond you sometimes thought it was white, buzzed over his head, and although you can't see his face you know that he'll have a set of dark blue eyes that sometimes turn black when he's angry and a pair of dark hoops curving over his right eyebrow. Ben is holding him up so high that the man's feet aren't touching the ground.

You hadn't seen your brother Darren in at least a year, not since he dropped by to crash on your couch to tell you that his buddy Roach, yes that is what he called him, was opening a restaurant and asked Darren to be his business partner. He had walked you through the technical lingo and acted enthusiastic about the prospects, told you that it was his dream to open a restaurant, but he was having a problem coming up with his half of the cash. Darren had asked you for a small loan and you'd scrambled to get it together for him.

But after about three months  Darren called to tell you that it fell through and that he was onwards and upwards trying to "make his way in the world" which by now you knew was Darren speak for "could you please send me a little more money to get on my feet." Your grandmother had stopped giving him money ages ago, but you couldn't, he was family, your only brother and you loved him.

"Darren?" You say hesitantly.

"Hey sis!" Darren smiles when you turn on the light in the kitchen, looking too happy for someone being smooshed against a raspberry and blackberry covered refrigerator.

"You know this guy?" Ben glances at you over his shoulder. He's not wearing a shirt again and you're trying very hard not to focus on how good he looks without one. The muscles on his back are flexed from the exertion of holding your brother up against the refrigerator and Ben isn't breaking a sweat.

Lifting a person probably feels like lifting up Bean to him.

"Yeah he's my brother." You take a step forward and hear something crunch beneath your foot. Your gaze drops to the floor and you understand exactly what the loud crashing noise was.

The strawberry plant that usually sits on the small kitchen table that you shoved under the window is on the ground. Shards of painted pottery litter your floor in every direction, the strawberry plant smooshed under a boot print that matches up with Darren's infamous buckled motorcycle boots. The same ones he'd had since high school that he'd tell anyone who listened he won in the same bar fight that he got the thin scar on his chin from, when in reality he got them at a thrift store down the street from your grandmother's house and the scar from when he tripped and hit his chin on the toilet when he was fifteen and trying to learn how to shave.

Must have come in the window from the fire escape.

Most of the window had been blocked by a tangerine and lemon tree that you had encouraged to grow, but now the tree was pushed to the side off kilter and the window was open letting in the warm summer breeze.

You didn't understand why Darren did that when he still had the key that you made him when you moved in.

Ben drops Darren unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor, who lands with a loud "clunk” from his boots, but your brother doesn’t look upset. He rubs his hand over the top of his head as if adjusting his buzzed hair with a sheepish smile while Ben steps back onto one of the pieces of pot on your hardwood floor, but doesn't wince.

Darren notices your gaze on the smooshed strawberry plant and the shattered remains of the pot it was in. "Ooo, sorry sissy." He frowns. "But I'm sure you can fix it can't you? That is what you do." Darren emphasizes it by waving his hand around you apartment at the numerous plants covering your walls.

You crouch down and pick up the remnants of the plant gingerly, cradling it to your chest. "Um, yeah." You force a smile, trying not to think about how important the pot was to you. It was the last thing you had of your grandfather, before he passed. It had been one of your favorite memories, sitting out on the back porch in the middle of a thunderstorm painting flowers and dots and zigzags on the terracotta pot that housed the strawberry plant that you grew on the tray of your high chair the day your powers developed.

Darren knew how much the pot meant to me. He had one too before he used it for air-rifle practice.

You put the plant on your kitchen table, before taking the broom from the hook on the wall. "Why didn't you just use the door?" You tried to say it in an upbeat way, but it fell flat.

"I was excited to see my favorite sister." Darren grins pulling you into a hug.

He smells like he always does, a bit like cigarette smoke, beer, and the stale smell of weed. But when he pulls back and sees that you're still frowning, his own mouth begins to descend into an exaggerated pout. "Did you not want me to come by?"

"Of course I did." You say, but you weren't sure. "I just thought you would call first or use the key that I got you not come through the window."

“Oh stop being so dramatic.” He pats you on the head. “I’m here now so what’s going on? You got a boyfriend-“ He gestures to Ben. “Who is also a supe?”

“Ben is my roommate.” You emphasize the word roommate before Ben can say boyfriend. That was the last thing you wanted him to say in front of Darren. You'd never hear the end of it You begin to sweep up the pieces, trying to fight the urge to cry over the shattered remains. You knew that crying in front of Darren would only make him tease you about being "too sensitive" so you kept it down and figure that you can cry about it later.

"Uh huh." Darren eyes him. "So he's got super strength?"

"Why do you care?" Ben grouches, crossing his arms over his chest, but he doesn't look away from where you're sweeping up the pieces.

Darren shrugs and holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy Touchy. Just making conversation dude. I mean, you're living with my sister." He breezes, but you notice Darren stand up a little straighter when he talks to Ben and you wonder if he was embarrassed by how easily Ben was able to man-handle him.

Ben opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever he was about to say. "Darren what are you doing here?"

He brightens with the question. "Oh it's so exciting! My friend is starting up a business and-"

"You need money?" You interrupt, trying not to think about how much you could spare from the already measly sum in your bank account to help him. This month hadn't been the best and after rent and utilities you probably could only spare 70 dollars or so, but even that seemed to be pushing it.

"No nothing like that." Darren waves a hand. "I just needed a place to crash because I'm going to go meet him tomorrow."

"Oh-"

"And he wants to meet you."

"Huh?" You look up from the small pile of shards at him. "Why?"

"He said that he wanted to meet the sister who I'm always talking about." Darren shrugs, before pulling a blunt from where it is behind his left ear, and lighting it.

He talks about me to his friends?

"Uh-huh. I think that I've met enough of your friends." You reply continuing to sweep more pieces into the pile.

You were using the word "friends" hesitantly because Darren seemed to go through them so often that you didn't think that it was worth it to learn all their names. And also because one time you had run into one of the "friends" Darren made and he had proceeded to chase you down the block shouting words about your brother that were not worth repeating.

"I think you'll like this one." Darren eyes Ben again. "I showed him your picture and he said that you were classic."

You miss Ben stiffen.

"Please stop trying to set me up. I'm fine." You could feel your cheeks heating because you knew that Ben was watching you.

The last time Darren had tried to set you up you found out half way through the date that your date was his weed dealer, whose idea of a romantic first date was to take you to a gentleman's club and then try to see who would be into having a threesome. Needless to say you were underwhelmed and blocked his number. The only good thing that had come of it was the gummy bear edibles you'd nicked from his pocket when he was flirting with one of the dancers and Annie and you had enjoyed the rest of the evening giggling and eating copious amounts of pizza and snacks.

"I don't know, he's better than the last one. Definitely has more money and he's sophisticated." Darren breathes out a cloud of smoke and you wave your hand to dissipate the smog.

"Charles Manson would be better than the last one, Darren."

"Manson had hundreds of followers and was treated like a god. I think you're being too picky." Darren rolls his eyes at you while he takes a hit from the blunt.

"Only you would see Manson as a role model." You grumble under your breath crouching down to sweep the pieces of the pot into the dust pan. "But if you really want to stay here you can take my bed."

A part of you were expecting Darren to protest, to care that you wouldn't have anywhere to sleep, but he doesn't argue with you.

“Great! Thanks.” He takes a few steps towards the hallway, the cloud of smoke following behind him like a dark omen, before he stops and glances back. “You got anything to drink?”

“No. Fresh out.” You lie without looking up. You didn’t want it to mix with whatever the hell that was in his system, because with Darren it was always something.

“I swear it’s like you don’t even think about me.” Darren flashes a wide grin, but the joke kind of hurts.

As he goes you dump the pieces into a plastic grocery bag, hoping deep down that you could glue it back together, but even you know that it's probably a long shot.

Maybe I can make the bigger pieces into something else? File down the sharp edges?

Ben is still standing in your kitchen, his arms crossed, listening to Darren go down the hallway and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

The door opens again and you hear Darren mutter, “Out stupid cat," sending a fuming Bean hissing down the hallway. He trots into the living room indignantly and you stoop down to calm him down, leaning the broom against the kitchen table as you do.

Ben is quiet, but you can feel the room heat up a few degrees for a second almost as if he's angry. “Does he always talk to you that way?” Ben’s voice is low.

“He’s high.” You continue to pet Bean, not looking up. “He’s not usually so-“ You search for the word.

“Fucking rude?”

You stand up with a sigh. “You sound like Annie.”

“Oh so she doesn’t get along with him either? Shocker.”

“Ben.”

He was bristling slightly, annoyed, teetering on angry. “Fine.” He mutters.

You turn your attention to the trampled strawberry plant, gently dragging your fingers over the petals repairing the damage with a wave of your hand as you do, until it looks better than it had a few moments ago, and place it in a plastic black pot temporarily. You were again, trying not to be too upset about the way that Darren entered your apartment, but it was like him to do something like that, like him to break things that you thought were important without a second thought for how you felt.

Your relationship with your brother was hard and sometimes it felt like you were the only one trying, but you didn't want to give up on him. He was the only family that you had besides your grandmother. When your parents died, Darren pulled away, stayed out late drinking and doing whatever drugs he could get his hand on, and had multiple flings with women in the neighborhood that weren't exactly single. Your grandmother had cut him out completely, but you couldn't.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, just kind of tired.” You sigh, closing the window that Darren pried open to get into the apartment. When you turn back you realize just how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating out from his skin and into the air.

His fingertip lightly presses the scrunch between your eyebrows. "You're lying." Ben says it quietly.

"I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?"

"Tell me when I'm lying. It's infuriating."

"Why?"

"Because it's the 21st century and when someone lies because they don't want to talk about how they really feel, it's common courtesy to just say 'ok' and move on!" You snap, grabbing the bag of smashed pottery. You immediately felt bad. You didn't mean to snap at him, but you were upset about Darren showing up unannounced even though you told him each time he came into town to tell you, but he never did, and about him breaking one of the only things in your apartment that had sentimental value to you.

Ben frowns at you for a minute, and you think that he's going to come up with some kind of retort, but instead he says  "Okay."

"Thank you."

You watch Ben's gaze drift back into your living room. "You can take the couch.”

It surprises you. You were just going to camp out in the bathtub and will the moss to make a pillow beneath your head. "But where will you sleep?"

“I can sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. "Don't need a bed. And I've slept enough anyway-"

“Ben you’re not going to sleep on the floor because my brother decided to show up in the middle of the night. It’s unfair.”

It was. You didn’t want Ben to curl into a ball on the floor and try to find a comfortable position, not after he'd spent the last forty years in a Russian Lab without a bed and probably without a pillow.

He shouldn't have to suffer because my brother never remembers how much I hate surprises.

“Well I’m sure as hell  not going to let you sleep on the floor.” Ben shouts.

"I can sleep in the bathtub. The moss is actually really comfortable-"

"In the fucking bathtub? You're kidding right?"

"No. I've done it before-"

"When?" Ben suddenly looks murderous.

"The last time Darren was here I didn't have a couch and-"

"That fucker made you sleep in the bathtub?"

"I mean he didn't volunteer any other options and Darren can't fit in there so-" You try to reason with him, getting confused as to why Ben was suddenly looking down the hallway like he was going to haul Darren out by the lip and make him apologize.

"I'll be fucking damned if you sleep in a fucking bathtub!"

“What is it with you being chivalrous at the most inopportune times?” You stamp your foot in frustration.

You didn’t want to sleep in the bathtub, but you were willing to if it meant that Ben had a soft place to sleep. The moss wasn't all that bad, it was squishy, and the bathroom was kind of cozy in your apartment because of all the plants you had in there.

“Forgive me, but when I grew up it was considered common courtesy to give things like beds to women. And what kind of man would I be if I let you sleep in a mother fucking bathtub?” He shouts back, using the words you had used earlier to yell at him for pointing out your lie.

“Well if you sleep on the floor then I’m going to sleep in the bathtub."

“Fine.” Ben seethes.

“Fine.”

You stand there with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed refusing to back down. Ben mirrors your stance, before he loses it.

“I think it’s fucking ridiculous that no one is going to sleep on the couch. So why don’t you just shut up and sleep on the couch?"

“Because it’s your bed!”

“I bought it for both of us to use!” He snaps back.

You glare at him, tapping your foot, before you glance at the large couch.

Honestly, when it was in the pull out position it was about the size of a full bed, maybe a little bigger, more than enough room for Ben and for you. The thought seemed almost too crazy to consider… almost. Your mouth dips into a nervous frown, anxiety electrifying in your veins.

“I mean it’s-“ You clear your throat. “It’s big enough for both of us.” You say quietly.

Ben looks at you like you’re crazy, body going taunt. “I thought you said you didn’t want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t want to fuck me Ben, but I don’t hate the idea of sleeping with you. I mean I don’t think you’re going to do anything while I’m asleep."

Ben looks angry all over again. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! I’m not a fucking rapist.”

“No. Ben I mean-" You were waving your hands in front of you nervously trying to find the words. "I’m not saying you’re a rapist. I’m trying to tell you that I trust you and-“

Ben’s expression slackens. “You trust me?” He interrupts you in a whisper, sounding almost as if he can’t believe it, his face twisted into an emotion that you can't recognize.

“Well yeah.” Your cheeks flame bright red. “I mean we’re kinda friends and I trust my friends. I mean, do you think that I would let you live here if I didn’t trust you?"

Ben clears his throat, but doesn't say anything. "Um-" His eyes flick to the couch then back at you. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He says gruffly.

"It doesn't make me that uncomfortable." You reply, but you're already trying to figure out the mechanics of how you can sleep on the couch with him, without touching him.

"Uh-huh." Ben raises an eyebrow.

"It's okay. I'm going to get my pillow."

"I'll get it."

"But-" You begin to say, but Ben ignores you and stomps down the hallway.

Why does he want to get it?

He doesn't even bother to knock when he goes into your room and you can hear a quiet scuffle, followed by your brother shouting "What's your problem man?" and Ben's retort of "Just shut the fuck up and go to sleep." 

Ben is still grumbling something under his breath when he comes back into the living room, but he holds out your pillow for you. "Here."

"Thanks. But what did I say about you going into my room?” You hoped that the joke would ease some of the tension that you were holding in your shoulders.

"I think we threw all that out the window the other night. Don't you think Petals?" Ben smirks.

Right, the other night when he broke down my door and let me squeeze his hand.

"Maybe." You hug your pillow against your chest. "Do you-" You cough to clear your throat. "Do you want the inside or the outside?"

His eyes flick to the front door and then to the hallway. "I'll take the outside."

"Okay." You stand there awkwardly for a minute and even though you were the one who suggested this idea in the first place, you suddenly feel anxious.

I can do this. I can lay next to him and avoid touching him. What if I snore? Or drool? Or say embarrassing things? Oh fuck what if I start to have a dream about him with him literally laying right there.

“Petals, if you don’t want to-“

“I want to. I just need to wrap my head around it and I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” You take in a deep breath and climb onto the couch, pushing yourself as far as you can into the back cushions. You don't look at him when he gets in behind you, leaving about a good three inches of space between your bodies, the two of you back to back.

It's quiet for a few minutes, but then you feel the couch begin to shake lightly and you realize that Ben is laughing.

"What's so funny?" You turn to look over your shoulder at him.

"I was just thinking that it's about time I got you into my bed Petals."

"Shut up." You snort and turn your body enough to hit him on the shoulder, which makes Ben turn over to face you.

His dark hair hangs long over his forehead, his eyes shining, and his signature smirk pulls at the end of his lips. "Make me."

Fuck. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the flush that threatens to rise against your cheeks, when you think about kissing him to shut him up. All that did was remind you of the kiss you shared in the hallway the night he first slept in your apartment which then lead to how close he was to you and that only brought back memories of his beard against your neck outside the party. The flush that finally breaks through is coupled with the immediate blooming of the apple tree at the end of the couch. The delicate flowers fluttering open as if they were winking at the two of you.

Shit, maybe he won't notice that.

Ben glances up at the tree above the two of you confused. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask innocently.

"You made the tree make the fucking flowers."

"No, I didn't." You hit your pillow to rid yourself of an imaginary lump.

"Yes, you did. You also did it the other day when you were reading your book." Ben's eyes roam your face as if he's searching for the answer.

Oh right, when I was reading my book and it started to get a little bit steamy and everything in the room started flowering like it had been a long winter… Honestly it kinda has been a long winter, but I'm not going to think about it right now when he's this close to me. I can't believe he noticed that.

"Does it mean something?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Nope."

Ben smirks his eyes drawn to the center of your forehead where you know the scrunch is giving away your lie. "It does, doesn't it?"

"Nope. Goodnight." You turn over and stare at the back cushions of the couch. Hoping that he’ll just drop it.

He doesn’t.

"It means that you're turned on, doesn't it Petals?" Ben's breath is warm against the back of your neck, making goosebumps trail over your arms and you fight to keep control of the blooming.

"No, it doesn't."

"Do I turn you on?" You can hear the smile in his voice.

"No, and it’s not what it means."

"Uh-huh. So when I do something like this-" Ben reaches out to touch the small of your back and trails his warm large hand over the curve of your right hip.

You clench your teeth together to try to stop the power that rushes out of your body with the contact, but it's too late, the Jasmine that creeps along the brick wall behind the tv explodes, the smell of Jasmine wafting over to the couch where Ben and you are laying.

Ben laughs, shaking the couch beneath you.

"Shut up. It's so embarrassing." You moan into the pillow curling further in on yourself and pulling the crocheted blanket over your head, blushing so deeply that you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry.

“It’s not embarrassing Petals.” Ben chuckles, pulling the blanket down from your head. “It’s kinda cute.”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “I will kill you.”

Ben contemplates what he’s going to say next. "So when you're fucking someone-"

"If you finish that sentence you're not going to wake up." You warn, knowing exactly where he's going with this.

Ben only laughs at you. "Come on Petals, I'm curious. Plus you're so adamant about not sleeping with me that I guess I'll never see when you c-."

"Fine!" You shout turning around to face him again, cheeks beet red. He's still staring at you with that ridiculous smirk that makes your legs weak and sends warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach. "When I have an orgasm, I do make everything bloom. Happy?"

"I mean I'd be happier if you'd let me witness it and if you'd let me fuck you." Ben's hand is touching your waist, his thumb teasing the edge of where your t-shirt meets the top of your sleep shorts.

"Ben, we've talked about this." You say it mostly to remind yourself.

"I know." His smirk dips into a frown and he withdraws his hand from your body.

You chew the inside of your cheek thinking about how hard this is and how much you wished it could be different.

"It's okay." You whisper, because he might not have apologized, but you could see the frustration on his face. "Really, it's fine."

Ben doesn't say anything, only continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, so instead you say "I'll see you in the morning" and you turn over to look at the cushions on the back of the couch, hoping that you're able to fall asleep before he does.

Mike's screech of "I Will Always Love You" is not as loud in the living room as it is in your bedroom, but it's still enough to wake you up. The room is lighter in the morning, the gentle pulse of sunlight filters through the leaves of the plants, but sends a warm glow over your body.

Actually, you were already warm, really warm, warmer than usual.

That's weird why am I-

You inhale sharply when you realize why you're so warm. Your body is pinned into the couch cushions, because Ben is practically laying on top of you. Your back is flush against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his face is pressed into your hair.

This isn't good.

Ben mutters something in his sleep and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even further against his chest, and shifting his hips in a way that makes you realize that this is a lot worse than you thought. Because you can feel exactly what makes Ben so cocky begin to get excited.

Fuck, this really isn't good.

"Um Ben?" You whisper, but he doesn't wake up, instead he moans something into your hair, and shifts his hips again in a way that makes your heartbeat stutter in your chest.

Fuck. Really not good.

You knew that Ben was attracted to you, knew that he had wanted to fuck you since the moment he first saw you, so you weren't surprised that this was happening, and there was a part of you that enjoyed this. Laying in bed with him, feeling his warmth transferring to you, having his body relaxed around you as he pulled you deeper and deeper into his chest. The warmth was lovely, you didn't do well in the cold and being with Ben meant that you'd never have to worry about that again. It was moments like this that you wished you never let Ben move in, not because you hated him, but because you liked him too much.

"Ben." You say it louder.

"Hmm?" Ben groans. "If no one is dying then don't wake me up Petals." He murmurs, obviously not understanding what the problem is. You wait another minute, lying beneath him and trying to think about a way to get out of this, when Ben realizes what he's doing.

He raises his head from your hair blinking at where you're staring at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.

"Morning." You whisper.

"Morning." Ben returns, but it's barely audible, just a marvelous deep rumble that you can feel vibrating up through where he's laying on top of you.

Ben doesn't move, his eyes are a soft pine, like fresh sprigs in spring sprouting from the highest branches to stretch towards the early sun. You can't move, you feel frozen beneath his gaze, watching the gentle way the light kisses his bold features, the smooth dip of his bow-like mouth, the rough edge of his strong jaw, and the proud bend of his nose.

His arms loosen from around your waist, but he turns you towards him, so you're pressed chest to chest, without looking away from your face. Your hands are pinned between the two of you, resting against his bare chest right over where his heart beats beneath your fingertips.

Ben's green eyes trace your features, dropping to your lips before raising once more to look you in the eye as if he's asking for your permission. You know what he wants, can see it in the way he watches you, and see it in the way that his head tilts towards yours. Your lips tingle in anticipation, your heart beat loud like the thunder in a summer storm that rattles the windows of your grandmother's home. You can't draw a breath because you know if you do it'll be full of him, until all you can do is breathe him in and sink into his body until there's nothing left of you and everything left of Ben.

You're not sure if it's because you're still a little bit sleepy or if it's because Ben is so warm or if it's because all the hard edges of Ben that you've grown accustomed to have smoothed over and all you see is the version that Ben was only around you. The version who sat with you when you had a nightmare and refused to leave, the version who walked you to work every morning, the version who sat with you while you read your book, and the version who seemed to care more than he was willing to admit. But the longer you lay there with him the bigger the urge is to pull him closer.

Your hands smoothly travel up Ben's chest feeling the strength beneath the palms of your hands before you lock them behind his head, tangling loosely in the dark strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.

The apple tree at the end of the couch begins to shed flowers down on both of you and Ben’s eyes flick up to it for just a second before he smiles. It’s the first time you’ve seen him have a smile like that, one that looked so easy, so genuinely happy and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t think you wanted to make him smile like that all the time.

Ben leans forward to close the distance between the two of you, his lips warm and inviting, his forehead just barely resting against yours, but before your lips touch, your bedroom door opens and slams into the wall with a loud crashing noise that makes you jolt back away from him, breaking the spell.

"Good morning sis!" Darren crows walking in to the room. "Oh sorry, did I interrupt something between you guys?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"No." Your voice sounds high and squeaky, because he had. You're not sure what would have happened if he hadn't come in, well, you did. Ben was going to kiss you and you wanted him to.

This is getting too complicated.

Ben only frowns at your brother from his position on the couch. The two of you are sitting up now, side by side as if nothing happened, but you can't shake the memory of the warmth of his body soaking into yours as he curved himself around you, almost as if he wished to protect you even when he was asleep.

Is that why he wanted to sleep on the outside?

"Sure." Darren smirks. "Do you have anything to eat around here? Or do you only have all this shitty fruit?" Darren frowns at the raspberry and blackberry vines, the strawberry plant, the apple tree, and the lemon and tangerine trees.

"Oh." You shake off the insult. "There should be some cereal in the cabinet"

"I hope you got the name brand stuff this time."

Maybe I'd be able to afford the name brand stuff if someone stopped coming around and asking me for money.

"If you don't like anything we have, I'd suggest going to the diner across the street." Ben says tightly emphasizing that he lives here now.

"No thanks bro. I'm kinda short on cash these days." Darren replies finding the Lucky Charms cereal and pouring himself the last bowl without a second thought.

"Oh really?" Ben says standing from the couch to glare at your brother. "And what exactly is it that you do Darren?"

Darren leans back against the counter eating his cereal, but you can see the tight way he's gripping the spoon. "I'm an entrepreneur."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Ben-" You start to say, unsure as to why Ben was giving your brother a hard time.

"It means that I invest in other opportunities." Darren stabs his cereal with the spoon.

"And if you're so short on cash, how do you do that?" Ben presses.

A dark look passes through Darren's eyes. "What exactly are you getting at?"

"Well you've been here for maybe six hours and the only thing that I've seen you do is break in, take your sister's bed, and insult her." Ben takes a step forward into the living room. "So to me, it kinda looks like you just sit on your ass like a fucking pussy and mooch off of your sister, because you're not man enough to get a real job."

"What the fuck is your problem man?" Darren puts down the bowl. "I don't understand where all this hostility is coming from, but I don't have to explain myself to you. My sister and my relationship is none of your business, and I've been here a lot longer and I'm pretty sure that I'll be here longer than you-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Ben growls.

"Whoa wait a second-" You stand up from the couch.

"You have no idea who you're talking to." Darren's voice is low, his eyes leveled on Ben. "You shouldn’t start a fight you can't win."

Ben's lips tilt into a smirk. "Trust me, it's not going to be much of a fight."

"Whoa!" This time you plant yourself between the two of them, one hand resting on Darren's chest. You can feel a deep thrumming buzz coming through the material of his band t-shirt and into your hand and for a moment you're surprised, because your brother wasn't a supe.

Then where is it coming from?

You shake it off. "Let's all just take a nice deep breath."

Ben's eyes are still narrowed at Darren, refusing to back down from a fight, which was like him. And as much as you loved your brother you knew that he tended to have a bad temper, and the last thing you wanted was to clean up the mess when Ben pulled out his spine and reenacted Predator in your small kitchen.

"Ben please." You say it quietly, glancing at where he's towering over the two of you.

You can hear the audible click of his teeth when he unclenches his jaw, his eyes no longer the soft pine they were when you were wrapped in his embrace, but now blaze a dark green. You know that he's about to say something, but Ben's phone rings and continues to ring in the silence, until Ben sighs and turns to pick it up, but he doesn't seem happy about it.

You drop your hand from Darren's chest with a sigh, but happy for the interruption. "Why do you have to be like that?" You ask your brother.

"Me? He started it!" Darren fumes. "Boy, you really know how to pick 'em sis."

"What do you mean? We're not together, we're just friends! And wait, this isn't about him and me. He lives here and if you keep dropping by, you're going to have to be okay with seeing Ben."

"Why can't you just move in with Annie? She's better to look at anyway." Darren rolls his eyes and picks up his bowl of soggy cereal.

Maybe to you. You fight the memory of Ben in the towel still wet from his shower that you witnessed the other day and successfully stop the flush that tries to creep into your cheeks. It's followed again by how wonderful it felt to drag your hands up Ben's chest and catch in the dark strands of his hair. The fruitless tomato plant behind Darren's head begins to swell with bright red tomatoes the size of your fist.

I've got to get that under control.

The memory of Ben figuring out exactly why that happened around you flits through your mind bringing an inescapable wave of embarrassment. The day you'd found it out was when Annie and you were watching Vampire Diaries for the first time in your bedroom back home and as soon as Damon Salvatore walked onto the screen the blueberry bush next to your bed suddenly exploded. Not to mention the first time that your high school boyfriend Newton kissed you in his parent's cornfield, the entire crop suddenly came back tenfold in the middle of winter.

"She's moving in with her boyfriend Hughie." You say, trying not to sound disappointed.

When you first moved to the city, you had wanted to move in with her, but she was apart of the Seven, and when she finally decided to move out of Vought Tower, it was because she wanted to move in with Hughie, not because she wanted to move in with you. It stung the day she told you, and you'd be lying if you said that you were not still a little upset about it, because it felt like she had chosen someone else over you.

"Oh right, that's still going on. Don't know what she sees in that wimp."

"He's sweet. You don’t know him. And I don't know why you’re acting jealous, Annie and you have never gotten along-"

"Because she's a bitch! I can't believe you're still friends with her after all this time."

"Hey don't talk about her that way. Annie is my best friend, practically my sister."

"Right." Darren rolls his eyes again and swings the spoon in a wide arch. "She's always been a bitch and now that she's Starlight she's even worse. She's always had that stick up her ass even when we were kids-"

"If you keep talking about her that way, you can leave." You say simply, feeling your temper begin to flare.

You didn't give a fuck if Darren insulted you or made fun of you, you did however, care if he spoke poorly about Annie. Annie was family to you, Annie had been with you a hell of a lot more than Darren had when you parent's died, she hadn't pulled away from you and vanished into thin air when you needed someone to hold you or when you couldn't sleep or when you woke up screaming or when you couldn't stop crying.

That being said, Annie and Darren had never gotten along, not once in all the years that you'd been friends. Whenever Annie came over, Darren left, and vice versa. You weren't sure why they couldn't get along, but you did think it was infinitely better than Annie being secretly in love with your brother. He never had a lasting relationship in his life that was worth remembering. The longest relationship he'd been in was with his buckled combat boots that he never took off.

Darren lets out an annoyed sigh, but you watch remorse and sympathy drip into his gaze. "Fine. But I just want what's best for you. You know that right?" He puts his hand on your shoulder, his eyes softening. "Come on sis, you know that I'm just looking out for you? I love you, you're the only family I have left that actually cares about me."

Your heart breaks with his words, hurt that he feels like your grandmother doesn't care about him and that he felt like you were the only person in the world that he meant something to. Sure he'd messed up more times than you could count and did occasionally disappear whenever you seemed to need him, but he was your brother.

You sigh. "I know Darren. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean before."

"It's okay." He glances over to where Ben has just hung up the phone and is glaring at Darren's hand placement on your shoulder. "I guess I should go get dressed."

"Okay."

"But you're coming with me to meet my friend right?" Darren looks at you with a hopeful expression.

"Um... Well I'd have to tell Jake that I'll be a little late." You say slowly not wanting to disappoint Darren. "And I don't really like leaving him high and dry-"

You didn't like calling out from work, in fact you hadn't missed more than a handful of days in the two years that you'd been working there, because you genuinely liked going to work. Being there was like coming home, surrounded by the healing energy of the plants that thrived under your watchful eye.

"Come on the plants will survive without you for an hour or so." Darren smiles. "Do you want me to beg you sissy? I really want you to come with me. It would make me so happy."

"Well, okay." You concede. "Let me just text Jake."

"Yes! I'll be out in a minute and then you can change okay?"

"Sure."

When Darren struts off down the hallway, Ben joins you in the kitchen, glaring at Darren's back as he disappears into your room.

"Who was on the phone?" You ask him while picking up Darren's bowl and scrape the remaining soggy cereal into the trashcan under the sink.

"Butcher." Ben grunts. "Said that he got a lead on the electric supe, but it's all the way in Boston."

"Boston? But that's so far away. Why would he have an operation there and be picking up cars here? He can't be in two places at once."

"No idea, but Butcher said the lead was solid." Ben shrugs.  "And he said that he's getting everyone ready to go right now and that I need to get over there so we can get on the road."

"Everyone's going?" You ask disappointed. The thought of the entire team being gone for a few days made you feel lonely. They were kinda like your extended family. You also felt a little left out that Butcher hadn't asked you to go.

"Yeah. Butcher said that he would have asked you to come, but he knows you work most of this week anyway and that he thinks that it'll be alright if you stay here." Ben rubs the back of his neck, but seems hesitant. "Are you going to-" He clears his throat. "Are you going to be okay?"

You didn't miss the way his eyes flick down the hallway to where your brother is.

Is he worried about me?

"Why? You don't want to leave me with Darren or something?" You joke with a snort.

"No."

But Ben looks away when he says it in a way that makes you think that he's lying.

"Believe it or not Darren used to babysit me when I was little and I didn't die or get brain damage-"

"Not to your knowledge."

"Why are you so worried about me?"

"I'm not! I just-" Ben crosses his arms over his chest annoyed. "I don't think you should go meet his friend."

"Why not? I've met plenty of his friends. They're all very dude-bro. At least he has a type."

"I have no idea what that means."

You roll your eyes, before you consider something else. "Wait, are you jealous or something?"

"I am not fucking jealous!" Ben sighs. "I just think that maybe you should use your head Petals."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You going to meet his creepy friend without knowing exactly where you're going or what his friend is going to 'make you do'."

"Make me do? Ben where the fuck do you think my brother is taking me? Do you think he's selling me into the sex trade or something?" You look at him incredulously.

Does he really think so lowly of my brother? He'd never do anything like that. Darren cares about me, he's just guarded and a little rough around the edges.

"You're too fucking trusting Petals!” He explodes.

“What? I am not too trusting.”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not. And why are you yelling at me? Why are you mad?” You reply in confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this. I've met his friends before."

“I’m not mad I’m just fucking trying to-“ Ben clenches his jaw so tight you can see the muscle pop on the side of his face. “You’re just so damn kind and too damn stupid to see what’s directly in front of your face!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You plant your hands on your hips staring up at him, not expecting Ben to look so angry, but he does. His arms are folded tightly over his bare chest, his muscles tense, and his eyebrows are pulled together. “Are you really telling me that it’s stupid to trust my brother? He’s my brother! Not some random dude I met on the street-“

“He might as well be! In the fucking five minutes he’s been here he’s been nothing, but be a total dick to you!”

“Oh well excuse me Ben, but I’ve known him for more than the five fucking minutes that you have-“

“Exactly! You should know better!” Ben is getting angrier now and you didn't know where all of this was coming from, especially because of how you'd spent the morning and especially because he was acting differently than he had been the past few days. "You care way to much about other people and you shouldn’t! People like him look for people like you. People who are too stupid to know any better. People who as so trusting and innocent that they take everything at face value."

You stare at him with your mouth open, anger and hurt swirling together to form a cold dagger shoved straight into your heart. You didn't understand why he was doing this or why he was getting so angry.

Oh sweetie, you really thought he cared about you? It's all just an act don't you see? The little voice in your head whispered in your ear.

And it made you furious.

"I am not some innocent little girl Ben. I am a grown woman and I don’t have to listen to your toxic Hemingway Code Hero bullshit." You turn back to the sink prepared to wash out the bowl, but Ben grabs on to your wrist and spins you back to look at him.

"You should listen to me! Because caring about people who don't give a shit about you is going to get you fucking killed or worse!" His grip is tight on your wrist, but not enough to bruise. His skin burns against where his hand wraps around your wrist and you worry how much longer you have until Ben goes Nuclear.

You wrench your wrist from his hand.

"At least I have people who care about me! And yeah, maybe I'm a little trusting, but I'd rather be too trusting than push everyone away before I get a chance to know them." You shout back shoving your finger into his bare chest. "You might think that you're some big strong macho man, but if you actually dropped the fucking macho act and acted like you gave a shit maybe there'd be more people willing to be in your life and willing to care about you! Maybe that's why your entire team  collectively said "fuck you" and stabbed you in the back! Maybe that's why Vogelbaum wanted to start from scratch with your fucked up son because they knew you were too much of a asshole to admit that you need someone and didn't have the common decency to give anyone a chance!"

"I don't need anyone." Ben's gaze turns murderous at the mention of Homelander and his old team.

"I think you do, but I think that you try to bury the real you underneath all this bullshit and-"

"You don't know anything about me Petals." Ben growls, taking a step forward so that he's leaning down over you, the air warming with the heat of his anger, a slight glow emanating from the middle of his chest.

The counter is pressed into your back as he pins you there, so differently than the other day you were in the same position.

"You think just because we’ve talked a few times and because I sleep on this fucking couch every night that you know me?" He laughs cruelly.  "I'd rather have no one than be saddled with someone like you who struts around like a fucking tease with stars in her eyes trying to romanticize every single damn person she runs into. It's no wonder you haven't found a man to fuck you, because you're too busy chasing after a stupid fantasy version of a man who doesn't fucking exist and latching on to assholes like your brother who do nothing but use you!" Ben's eyes have shifted into the darkened pits again, the ones that seem to be ready to drag you beneath the raging waves.

"And I'd rather have no one than someone like you who's too insecure about his own masculinity that he feels the need to project a fucked up toxic "together" version of himself and pretends to care about other people to manipulate them into getting what he wants." You spit back, your eyes shifting bright green.

Every plant in your home begins to tremble, the energy from them flooding through your body, strengthening you, merging together as they prepare to bend to your will.

Ben's expression turns murderous, his lips pulling back in a snarl, prepared to no doubt spit back something that he'd be unable to take back, but Darren walks back into the kitchen wearing a fresh pair of clothes.

He's oblivious to the conversation that Ben and you just had and drops his arm over your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

You feel your eyes shift back to normal, but the anger and frustration still war in your chest, beating against your rib cage, begging to be unleashed. Ben doesn’t respond instead he only glares at you.

“Alrighty then.” Darren snorts when neither of you fill the silence, not sensing the tension in the air. "Don't worry there Benny, I'll take good care of her. I always do." You miss the glare that Darren throws Ben over your head.

But just for a second you think that Darren may have heard more of the conversation between Ben and you than he was willing to admit.

Ben's jaw is tight, eyes still blazing with his own anger and annoyance. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like a give a shit what happens to her." He states before he stomps down the hallway and slams the bathroom door so loud that all the dishes in your kitchen cabinets shudder.

You weren't expecting those words to hurt as much as they did, but it felt like you had taken a two by four to the chest.

"What's his problem?" Darren asks.

"I don't know." You grumble, because you didn't.

The shift of conversation from Ben almost acting concerned about you going with Darren to him insulting you was giving you whiplash. You didn't understand why Ben had said those things to you, why he had yelled at you for being "too trusting." You didn't think that you were too trusting. It wasn't weak to love someone or care for someone else, but you guessed that was how Ben saw it. You wondered if it was because of what Countess did to him or if it came from his trust of his team or if it was ingrained in him from when he was a child.

Does he really think I'm too trusting? I mean he saw how long it took me to trust him? Or how long it took me to warm up to him? Or I guess, sort of warm up to him?

"Are you going to change?" Darren presses, looking down at your soft shirt and sleep shorts with a frown. "You should. Maybe wear something different than those overalls though. Kinda want you to make a good impression you know?"

"Yeah. Um. I guess I'll go now." You murmur walking down the hallway. For a moment you pause outside of the bathroom where you know Ben is, and you're unsure what he's doing because you don't hear the water running, before you go into your bedroom.

You stand there for a minute, taking in a soothing breath, but it does little to calm your racing heart. The anger and frustration you felt began to crash over you and you feel frustrated tears begin to trail down your cheeks.

You weren't sure if it was what Ben had yelled at you or what you had yelled at him, all you knew was that you were hurt and you were happy that Ben was going out of town for a few days, because you didn't think that you could look at him again, not without throwing him out of your apartment on his ass.

A/N: I know, I know, maybe I'm a little addicted to the drama and the angst. And oh my word slow burns are so hard, but I promise that I do have a plan of when the two of them do finally get together and it IS GLORIOUS.

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

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@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@reidtomewinchester

[gguk-n]

Notes & Nitrous (Oscar Piastri x Jeon Jungkook's labelmate!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Face claim- IU

{Jungkook's POV}

Y/N was always nice, that was her personality. She wasn't nice because she wanted to be an idol but she was genuinely nice from the moment I met her. She was the first female solo artist under our label and debuted soon after we did. Those were tough time; while Y/N made a name for herself domestically, we were able to expand internationally which in turn brought more traffic to our company. She would always joke about how we helped her go to concerts overseas. She got along well with the other members too; but there was always something different between us, or so thought.

We were both teenagers when we became trainees. She would always ask us questions and for help and she was the only one who could call me oppa and get away with it. Even the fans noticed how she could call me oppa and no one else. When I think about it, it's mostly because I had a huge crush on her. I was in love with her for years but us dating would be scandalous so we never did, or I never asked.

Everyone treated her like BTS's younger sister. I couldn't imagine it. I wish I had the guts to ask her out.

Y/N was promoting at the same time as I was promoting seven. Going to music shows became exciting because I would find Y/N back stage and we would be goofing off. "Why'd you have to promote seven now?" she whined playfully. "Why?" I asked confused. "I can't win a single time now, until your song stops being nominated" she laughed. "I can stop" I stated. "No, no, oppa, I was joking. The fans love the single; I was just teasing you. I've won enough trophies at this point" she quickly corrected.

We were both done with our promotions and were at the company recording. I had asked her to do a demo for a few of my songs and she was giving feedback on how I could do them. I saw how her eyes sparkled and the way it made my heart beat really fast when she spoke. I found myself staring at her lips, I have no clue what took over me but I suddenly kissed her. She stopped speaking and then I felt it, the sudden push. "Oppa" she screamed. I was shocked, the feeling of her lips still on mine as I traced my lips. "What was that?" she asked. "I...I like you Y/N, so much for so long now" I mumbled. Her shoulders slumped, "I'm sorry oppa but I don't feel that way." she said. "I thought..." I trailed off. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I just hope you will forget this" she said. "Why? Is it because of the dating ban" I asked. "What? NO, Oppa, we are veterans at this point. I just never saw you as anyone but an older brother. Someone to lean on or ask for help" she explained. My heart shattered and I couldn't even say anything. I felt tears prick my eyes. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just hope we can be friends" she begged. "I'm sorry Y/N but I need time. Can you leave?" I asked. "I'm sorry again. I hope we can be friends again" she said while walking out.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 267,803 others

y/n.y/l/n 3 sold out shows in Melbourne!! Thank you everyone who came. Can't wait to see you guys in Manila next!💗💗

user8 언니 너 너무 예뻐 🥹🥹unnie you are so pretty user9 Love all your shows❤️❤️ user10 Oscar was at that show and I saw him too, I think I can die happy now😭😭 user11 She doesn't have a bad angle🥵🥵 user12😘😘 oscarpiastri 🤤🤤 user13 please behave yourself Oscar🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

{Oscar's POV}

I walked into the McLaren garage for the meeting before the race when Zak introduced me to Y/N Y/L/N. They listened to me and invited her, when did they ever do that, my brain was short circuiting. She raised her hand to greet me, "I'M A HUGE FAN" I blurted out, quickly covering my mouth. She smiled, "I saw, the fans were talking about some Oscar at my show, so I checked and they didn't disappoint" she said winking at me. I could die happy now. "It's nice to meet you, you've helped my fan base expand" she chuckled. I laughed nervously. She turned her attention to Lando who had walked in and spoke to him for a few moments while I watched.

"Mate, you're sweating so much, don't be nervous you drive Formula One cars for a living for fucks sake" Lando joked as he saw me stare at her. "How can I not? She's my celebrity crush" I stated. "Ask her out" Lando said simply. "What? NO?" I denied. "Come on, she was flirting with you since she got here. The worse she could say is no and you will never see her" Lando reasoned. "But..." I stammered. "You wanted to meet her that's why you asked to invite her and now that she's here you won't even shoot your shot" Lando questioned.

So, eventually I did pluck up the courage and walked up to her. She was taking a few pictures when I stood in front of her, "Hey Oscar" she greeted putting her phone away. "Hi. Are you in town for a few more days?" I asked. "yeah, my concerts in a few days" she said. "Would you like to go out with me?" I asked trying to sound as confident as I could be. She smiled, "yes, I would love that" she said. "Great! Then dinner tomorrow at 8?" I suggested. "Done. Can't wait" she commented. I walked to the car with a pip in my step, my celebrity crush just said yes to going out with me.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 890,296 others

y/n.y/l/n First formula one race of my life!! Thank you mclaren for having me🧡🧡

mclaren don't mention it but you should thank our driver tbh😏🤔 user14 no way Oscar suggested to invite her🥹🥹 user15 She looks so good in orange, I could never😘😍😍 user16 that outfit😍😍 user17 Is no one gonna talk about how she changed her outfit at the paddock?🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ user18 I would've fainted if I was Oscar🫣👀👀 landonorris user18 he almost did🫢🫢 user18 landonorris OMG!! YOU RPELIED oscarpiastri we loved having you, come back soon🧡 Liked by the author y/n.y/l/n oscarpiastri I would love to be back if you'll invite me😉 user19 what is going on between Oscar and Y/N?😌🫣 user20 user19 they're just being nice to each other, shut up🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

[echobx]

The Blessing - Rafe Cameron × plus size!fem!reader

summary: Rafe and y/n are at an event and he can't keep his hand off her. [blurb belongs to this series but can be read by itself]

word count: 840

warnings: pda, edging, formal wear, making out, dry humping (clothes stay on)

author's note: idk how much I like this. I feel like I fucked up but it's okay, it still feels genuine in the possible continuation of the series.

kinktober masterlist ✘ Not My Type masterlist

“You look hot in that suit,” you lean over, whispering in Rafe's ear before you walk off, continuing to charm potential buyers and brokers. You know he's watching you, barely getting any work done like that, but you don't mind it. Your relationship with Rafe is still somewhat of a secret. Sure, everyone in your office knows, but that doesn't mean the rest of the world needs to, especially not your father who is somewhere around the house, showing it off to some of his long-standing partners. 

Your back is turned, chatting to a woman twice your age, when you feel his hand press into the small of your back. “Excuse me, Miss, but Ms. y/l/n has a call waiting in another room,” Rafe says, and you turn your head to look up at him. “I'm sure it can wait a moment,” you tell him, but he shakes his head and looks at you with hungry eyes. “I'm afraid not.” 

As soon as the door falls into its lock behind you, he's kissing you senseless. His hands roaming your body and resting on your full breasts and squeezing harshly. “Why’d you do that?” he asks breathlessly, loosening his tie and caging you in against a bookcase. “Do what?” you feign innocence. “Get me riled up and leave my hanging,” Rafe pouts, pushing his bottom lip a bit to the front while brushing over your hair. He knows to not mess it up because it took you hours to get the curls done perfectly. “You could just wait until we're home,” you bat your lashes at him, running your hands along the opened front of his jacket. “This place has 5 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms and a dozen other rooms we could use, not even counting all the closets,” he says and you smile. “Good to know you take your job seriously.” “I'd rather take you, seriously,” he mumbles, kissing you softly. 

That's how you end up with him rutting against your hip while kissing you, letting him search for any type of relief that you can grant him instantly, one that won't ruin your reputation too much in case someone saw. “Gonna eat you out so good when we get home,” Rafe quietly moans against your lips. “That a promise?” you sigh, pulling on his hair but chasing his lips with your own. “Fuck, sugar, just let me,” he whines and right when you want to zip his pants open and help him out, the door is opened and no other than your father is standing in the doorway. 

“Mr. Cameron?” he sounds more confused over the “who” than the fact that he walked in on you. “Dad, I can explain,” you start, but he refuses to look at you, his eyes fixed on Rafe, who is running his hands over his hair. “Mr. Cameron, a word,” your dad demanded, and there was nothing you could do to help with it. Rafe would be on his own, and you really didn't like the thought of it. With an apologetic glance at him, you made your way out of the room and back towards the party. 

Ten minutes later, Rafe is back by your side, leaning down to whisper, “always sleeping yourself to the top, I heard. And I thought I was doing that.” You turn your head to look at him, confusion displayed on your face. “I don't-” “He apologized for your behavior, which is very nice, because if you weren't so,” he took a moment to admire you while searching for the right word, “driven and fast in your choices, he would've run into me actually fucking you against that shelf.” “He knows? You told him?” your heart is nearly beating out of your chest, unsure if it's relief or anxiety. “Yeah. Shouldn't I?” Rafe furrows his brows. “I don't know,” you shake your head, your eyes landing on your dad, who is looking at you from across the room. “Couldn't possibly ask for his blessing if he didn't know we're already together,” Rafe smirks, and it takes a moment for you to register what he said. “You what?” you gasp, quietly. “Relax, just because I asked him doesn't mean we will do it immediately. I haven't even planned the proposal,” he smiles, taking your hand up to kiss it. “What if I say no?” you whisper, unsure what to think of his rather quick planning. “Then I'll respect it and ask again when you're more sure about it. Or we don't have to marry. We can just have all those mini-you’s running around without my name legally attached to them,” he shrugs as if it's the most normal and obvious thing to talk about and do. “Let's just get through this and then go home.” “You're a hoe, you know that?” you giggle, and he leans down to kiss you. “Just for you,” Rafe whispers and closes the small distance that is left between you, and it feels nice to kiss him without having to hide it. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @hoe4sunarin @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @because-i-like-toxic-men @rafeeekam @carolinaxvz

[helps-the-writing-brain-go]

Consider:

Billy looks so much like his dad, and maybe he gets ahold of an old video camera or something.

He transforms into Captain Marvel every so often, dresses up like how his dad would, and essentially recreates the 'dad how do I?' YouTube series but with his dad's turn of phrase and cadence and everything, but very clearly sounds like he's referring to the viewer (him) in particular.

This isn't exactly healthy, but heroes have had worse coping mechanisms and it helps Billy feel closer to his dad and like his dad is alive and loving him and maybe just on a dig somewhere and is videocalling him to help him with something.

This is made even more emotional when he shows Mary and she feels the same connection too. Mary maybe starts doing the same thing because she looks like their mom.

After the twins reunited, they get more and more into this and make it more personal, you can see the affection through the screen bc it'll be things like their 'Dad' directing a message to Mary and you can see how he loves her in the way he speaks and the advice he gives. Same thing for when 'Mom' is on screen and she is addressing a son she doesn't name.

It's actually surprisingly therapeutic. Then they start getting a little silly with valid but very strange advice like how to rough it on the streets, how to deal with demons, how to do magic tricks ect.

Maybe someone else finds out. And they wonder about Cap's kid or if they're from Fawcett and/or especially the original Batson parents archeological buddies, they wonder about the multiple verys strange side gigs and/or interest that the pair seemed to have and are intent on passing on to their kids.

[loveleecakess]

୨☕୧ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ !!! ⏜ ۫ . ⟡

Character: -Bakugou Katsuki

# !! ꒰ Independent ꒱ 🥢 🥡

-I think Bakugou's dorm room would be freezing most of the time to stop himself from sweating excessively. He'd hate the feeling of trying to fall asleep sweaty. -If he showers in the morning he takes hot ones and if he showers at night he takes cold ones. -Bakugou doesn't want people to know he's a huge sap. He acts like he doesn't care about the gifts he receives on birthdays/Christmas, but he keeps them all and makes sure they stay in good shape. -When he was a kid he'd try to sneak TV past his bedtime so he could watch the Adult Swim channel. He managed to get away with it a lot which started up his profanity. -Bakugou cooks dinner a majority of the time in the dormitory since he states 'no one else is good at it' or 'it tastes like shit when someone else cooks it.' He refuses to cook breakfast though. 'Do it yourself.'

꒰ With Others ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮

-Asui and Bakugou are constantly arguing since she's not afraid to say what's on her mind and call him out on his attitude. -Bakugou has been good at styling hair ever since his internship with Best Jeanist. He usually helps Yaoyorozu and Kirishima the most with their hairstyles. -Hatsume has unintentionally gotten Bakugou in trouble when one of her inventions explode and a staff member thinks Bakugou used his quirk on campus without permission/supervision.

🕯️୧ ‧₊˚ ꒰ Bakugou x fem!reader꒱ !!

-His love language is definitely acts of service: -He'll make sure there's enough coffee left in the morning so he'll be able to pour you a glass. -He'll occasionally cook your favorite meal for dinner at the dormitories or secretly work on a cute little bento with little rice ball characters to surprise you with during lunch. -If he remembered how much you wanted a certain snack he'll make sure to get it the next time Class A needs to get groceries for the dorm. -He'll subtly hold doors open for you and pull out your chairs if he can. -Since he goes to bed early, he sometimes misses a few of the night texts you send him ( if reader sleeps late ), but he'll spend the first few minutes of his morning reading all the things you messaged him. -He'll let you borrow his manga but you have to promise you'll be sure to return it in pristine condition.

⠀ི ·̩͙ ꒰ঌུ A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this! I'm going to try and make this a series with a majority of the students in Class's A and B. Also, Have a nice day and lmk what you think !!! X3 -I apologize if the format of this post looks weird on mobile! I am a laptop user!

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

A/N | Hi luvs, I'm going to post the prologue of this fic I'm writing, but I'm in doubt about whether to continue this series or if it's good enough to keep going. Any feedback would help me a lot!

Prologue

John Wick walked down the quiet streets, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting on the damp pavement. The air was cool, carrying the scent of rain and earth. He wasn’t running, wasn’t being chased. For once, the silence of the night wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, though his guard was never fully down. He needed a moment to breathe, away from the endless chaos.

Passing by a small bookstore, his steps slowed. The window display was simple—old books stacked in rows, with a single potted plant resting in the corner. It wasn’t the kind of place that drew much attention, but for some reason, John felt drawn to it.

He opened the door, the bell jingling lightly above him. Inside, the store smelled of leather, paper, and something sweet—like freshly brewed tea. The place was cozy, a contrast to the hard, cold streets outside. A soft voice drifted from the back of the shop.

“I’ll be right with you!”

John stayed still, scanning the shelves as his fingers brushed against the spines of books, some worn and aged, others new. His eyes caught a glimpse of a small table in the corner, where a tea set sat beside a worn book, pages marked with a ribbon.

“Sorry for the wait!”

A woman appeared from behind a stack of books. She was holding a mug in one hand, her other hand adjusting the frames of her glasses. Her smile was warm, her eyes kind—completely unaware of who stood before her.

John offered a slight nod, still not speaking. She didn’t seem fazed by his silence, instead setting down the mug and stepping closer.

“Not many people come in this late. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

John opened his mouth to respond, but found himself hesitating. He didn’t need anything. At least, not in the way she thought. “No,” he finally said, his voice low. “Just… looking.”

She gave a gentle laugh. “I get it. Sometimes it’s nice to get lost in a book, or in the quiet.” She leaned against the counter, her gaze soft as she studied him. “You seem like someone who appreciates quiet.”

John’s jaw tightened for a second, not out of discomfort, but because her words struck deeper than she realized. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“Well, if you need a recommendation, I’m here,” she said with a small shrug, her tone light. “Otherwise, feel free to wander.”

John gave a small nod of thanks and continued walking through the aisles. Something about the bookstore—about her—was soothing. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel the weight of his past bearing down on him.

He wasn’t John Wick, the assassin. Not here. Not with her.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter V. Carved.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 2.8k

chapter summary: what's carved into the mind becomes carved into the wood, etched forever in the heart even if it bleeds.

warnings: angsty, mentions of drugs, vague descriptions of self-harm and suicide, overall sad chapter

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🤍 Magnolia - perseverance and determination

Isaac stands turned towards the window, his warm brown eyes roam everywhere they can, catching the fleeting sparkle of golden sun rays reflecting off of different surfaces, casting the glow into his irises.

The quiet afternoon is welcoming and warm as he sips on his herbal tea and enjoys the almost completely still world around him.

If he was asked 30 years ago where does he see himself in the future, this is not what he would ever imagine.

Always leading a busy life, living in a hurry, running with the crazy world around him, not ever once stopping to smell the roses.

What was he in a hurry to do? Hurry to see more, hurry to get it done, hurry to die?

He has no idea what kind of force drove him back then, maybe it was just the youthful energy he was filled with back then.

He'd like to think he's calmer and wiser now, flowing like a gentle stream rather than a fast and rambunctious river.

The door closes behind him and he turns slowly to be greeted by the said fast and rambunctious river taking the shape of a young man known by the name Hyunjin.

His backpack is slinged on one shoulder, his jeans are dirtied, his hair is slightly messy and his face wears a blissful and giddy smile, one that Isaac recognizes as he himself wore the same smile many years before.

"Afternoon, Hyunjin."- he greets the young man.

"Afternoon."- Hyunjin answers with a nod, the big smile never ceasing from his lips.

"You look rather joyful."- Isaac says, finishing his tea.

"Oh well, I had a really good day. I planted petunias."- he says, not revealing too much. "And I really need to take a shower now."- he laughs.

"Alright, don't let me stop you from your plans."- Isaac lifts his hand up in surrender. "Do join me in my studio later, please."

"Oh that! Right, I will I promise."- Hyunjin says before hurrying up to his room.

Isaac lets out a quiet chuckle before making his way to his beloved studio.

In the early evening hours, Hyunjin finally gathers the courage to knock on the big wooden door leading to Isaac's studio.

"Come in, come in."- he hears him say, his voice muffled.

Hyunjin opens the door and is immediately hit by the intense smell of wood and varnish, even stronger in the studio than in the rest of the house. If he takes a deep breath in, he thinks he might be sick but at the surface it's not too unpleasant to his senses.

"You'll get used to it quickly."- Isaac chuckles, noticing the young man's face is scrunched up.

"Come, sit here."- Isaac beckons, patting the chair next to him and Hyunjin sits down in the creaky seat.

The studio is big, even bigger than the living room and the dining room together, huge glass windows letting the afternoon sun in as it casts a glow on all of the wooden furniture and sculptures scattered everywhere.

For a moment, it looks as if though the wood is expanding and breathing, like it's still alive, but it's just a trick of the mind, swirling the patterns on the different works of art in Hyunjin's eyes.

He then looks at the table, his eyes roaming all over the different tools and wood chunks spread before the two of them.

"You ready to learn some whittling?"- Isaac smiles, excited to be someone's teacher again, like he was to his son. He wishes he'd been a better teacher then, not just giving him lectures about how his hands should move but also how to help his heart come out of the depths of despair.

"Ready as I'll ever be."- Hyunjin is in a good mood, transferring the giddiness to Isaac.

"We are using basswood today. It has fine texture and it's good for beginners like you."- Isaac says.

"What are we gonna make?"- Hyunjin asks.

"You can make whatever you want and I will guide you how to do it. But you'll need some protection first."- Isaac gives Hyunjin a slice resisting glove for the hand which will hold the wood, and a thumb guard for pushing onto the back of the blade safely.

"I don't know what I can do."- Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly and Isaac shakes his head.

"Maybe let's start with some type of animal or a face, that's easy."

"Doesn't sound easy."- Hyunjin chuckles and Isaac gives him a piece of the wood and a pencil.

"Draw out an owl, for example. You have to sketch before actually dealing with the knife."- Isaac has another bigger and already half-done sculpture of a woman with a dress flying around her as she dances.

Hyunjin does as he said, the familiarity of sketching before doing something he's never done before brings him a peace of mind.

"How did you decide to do this?"- Hyunjin suddenly asks and Isaac looks up from his sculpture, with a small smile.

"Short or long version?"- he asks.

"I like long stories."- Hyunjin gives Isaac a big smile and Isaac leans back, putting his knife down onto the table.

Isaac was 6 years old when he sat in the very same studio for the first time with his father. Every single day, his father would spend hours in the room and little Isaac always wondered what was so interesting in there that it takes up so much of his father's attention.

He thought that there must be something very important and magical about that room, when his father spent more time in there than in any other room of their house.

His mother always told him not to bother him but Isaac was too curious for his own good and one day he stumbled inside. His father turned around with a startle as he was concentrating on measuring wood planks.

"Isaac!"- he exclaimed before putting his tools down.

"What are you doing daddy?"- he'd asked and his father sighed, coming closer to him and gently putting his hands on his son's shoulders.

"I'm making furniture. You know the table in the dining room where we sit and eat every day? I carved that with my own hands."

"Really?! Is it magic?"- Isaac's eyes are wide as he stares up at his father who chuckles endearingly at him.

"No son, it's hard work. I'll teach you some day, right now you're too small and it's dangerous for you. But you can watch while I make measurements and decorate."- he said and Isaac nodded excitedly, joining his dad.

Isaac was 16 when he decided to become a woodworker like his father, following right in his footsteps. He holed himself up in his father's studio when he'd succumbed to his sickness, leaving Isaac only with his mother.

The smell of varnish was something he didn't even feel anymore, after spending so much time inside the studio, working with the precious wood, taking splinters out of his flesh, Isaac soon became desensitized.

His mother, the house, the studio and the furniture he made and broke suffocated him and he decided to move away to the city, to be able to breathe and open his wings.

Isaac was 21 when he met the love of his life, Celia, the most beautiful woman that ever graced this planet in his eyes, a goddess made to be worshipped and loved.

That's what he vowed to do as soon as they got married only 4 months after they've met.

She was a dancer and he started selling his sculptures and furniture, both of them working odd jobs to make ends meet before an important man noticed Isaac's work and asked him to make a sculpture for his big mansion, promising to pay him a big amount of money.

It seemed too good to be true, but Celia begged him to try and give the man a chance. She had just found our she was pregnant and they needed all the money they could get.

As it turned out, the man wasn't a fraud, he was someone who genuinely enjoyed discovering young and talented people, helping them become recognized for their work, as he owned a gallery.

Isaac was quickly invited to make enough sculptures for an exhibition, a dream come true for him, and Celia was proud of her husband for reaching such great heights.

But as it often happens, what flies high has to come down eventually, and while the exhibition was a success, and so was the next one, and the next one, and the next one, Isaac was becoming more and more greedy, blinded by the promise of the distant shining lights.

His wife and his now 5 year old son Leo came second place after the fame he was bathed in and the riches he slept amongst. The people around him were the ones with the white noses, crooked smiles and tainted hearts, and he became one of them. Just another snotty rich man, snorting up the good stuff, his arm wrapped around some random pretty young woman.

Celia endured all of this for the sake of her son who was different since he was small, a sad little boy, always on the side, never playing with his peers, always silent, his voice quiet like an autumn breeze whirling dry leaves up in the air.

Isaac neglected his family in exchange for material things and women, and as his son kept growing up, he holed himself up in his room, finding comfort in whittling.

The knife was sharp, cutting out wood, cutting out skin. There was so much blood as his mother found him, quickly calling the ambulance.

They managed to save Leo for now, and Isaac was late as always, making Celia scream at him and hit him as she kept yelling that it was his fault and he did this to his family.

Isaac would've cried but his heart felt stuck, so he promised to be better from now on, as he took the both of them to the house on the island.

They took a little break here, hoping that the calmness and simple beauty of the island would inspire Leo, and make Isaac remember why he started it all, remind him of his dear parents, now food for the earth, remind him how he loved Celia, carving her beautiful figure into the wood again and again.

But when the wood is rotten inside, there is no way to save it and make it right again. The constant screaming of Leo's parents added to his clinically depressed state resulting in the carving of the skin again.

This time it was too late when Isaac had found him in the very room where Hyunjin sleeps now.

Celia left him after that and Isaac went back to the city, drowning himself in insignificant shit, drugs, fake smiles and sympathethic pats of people who didn't care for anything except their wallets.

He was dancing on thin ice, almost killing himself in the process, not caring about his well being or anything else except numbing the pain of knowing that he effectively killed his son and drove his wife away, driving himself to a fast breakdown.

"And now, I've been here for a long time."- Isaac wipes a single tear as Hyunjin sits stunned, the wood and the pencil still in his hands, as he tries to process the life the man sitting next to him went through.

"I- I don't know what to say. I'm really sorry for everything you went through."- Hyunjin speaks quietly, afraid that if he raises his voice, the room will be disturbed.

"Ah, it's not your fault. I told you all of this because I think you're going down a similar path, isn't that why you're here?"

"Honestly, it is. My manager - he's only hungry for money. And while he pretends to be my friend, I know he doesn't give a shit about me as a person, he only sees me as a source of income. The people around me are disgusting, the type I would never imagine myself hanging out with before. I feel like I fell into a hole and can't seem to unearth myself. It's like something's wrapped and weighing down on my ankles, perpetually pulling me down into the underground. I had to run away and find a peaceful place to find myself again."- Hyunjin confesses, saying everything out loud lifts a stone from his heart.

"I had a feeling it was like that because you remind me so much of myself when I was young. And I told you all of my story so you can learn a lesson by listening, not by doing. It would be a shame to throw your life away on insignificant things and end up alone like I am. Especially when you've found love."- Isaac smiles knowingly and Hyunjin jolts, hand squeezing the chunk of wood in his palm.

"L-love?"- he laughs awkwardly.

"The smile on your face today, it's something I wore many times on my own face. It's the completely dumb-in-love smile I had when I met Celia. I know you've spent the day with y/n, since you said you planted petunias. So what I'm saying is, nurture this. Don't let it slip away through your fingers. Don't make the same mistakes I did, you can still get back on the right path."- Isaac says and he can see the cogs turning in Hyunjin's head but he doesn't say anything.

It's enough for Isaac to see that he's letting the words sink in, so he decides to move onto the tutorial for whittling to actually teach Hyunjin how to sculpt the wood.

There is some classical music playing lightly in the background as Hyunjin learns something new for the second time today, a few push cuts, sweeping cuts and stab cuts later there is a little owl in Hyunjin's hands, with it's wings and eyes closed, looking like it's sitting peacefully somewhere high up in a tree.

"That is some good work for a beginner."- Isaac praises him, of course it's not perfect and it doesn't have to be but being an artist himself, Hyunjin's hands are already used to creating something out of nothing.

"Thank you."- he smiles as he observes the little owl, the symbol of wisdom and intuition, telling Hyunjin to just listen to his gut and try to hear what his heart wants, his heart that has withered in the dry and dark city between loveless people.

"You should add some finish to it to brighten it up and make it resilient to moisture."- Isaac says, giving Hyunjin some wood oil and a paintbrush.

Holding the brush in his fingers and moving it across the wood, makes him miss the feeling when he'd let his heart lead his hand on the canvas, his eyes could even be closed as he takes a moment to feel the art pouring out of his soul.

The time when everything was simple and beautiful, the time when he took back what his mother stole for him, the love he always had for creating.

"Thanks for joining me today."- Isaac says as they eat dinner.

"Thanks for telling me your story and teaching me your craft."- Hyunjin smiles genuinely.

That night in bed, Hyunjin stares at the owl he carved that's now sitting on the night stand and his eyes travel up to the ceiling.

One of his hands is propped under his head and the other draws patterns in the blanket that he threw over himself.

His mind is buzzing with thoughts, every time he ends up thinking about the city and what Isaac told him, there's a knot in his stomach. He wishes he never has to leave, wishes that he never has to go back to the cold and cruel city, that he could continue living here, planting flowers with you every day, helping you take care of your garden, painting with you, holding you close.

He wishes life was that simple but it never is.

Hyunjin knows it's dangerous but he lets his mind settle onto daydreaming about you, creating different scenarios, all soft, loving, erotic, indulging himself with a fantasy he can only hope to live.

He falls asleep around 2am, mind and body tortured with thoughts of art, you, the city, Isaac and ultimately leading him to think about his mother and how she was the one who damaged him even before he damaged himself.

It's a vicious cycle that Hyunjin hopes he can break.

His eyes close and he falls into a dreamless sleep as the little wooden owl guards him, the moonlight casting a glow that makes it look like its eyes are opened and trained on Hyunjin.

And as silence covers the small island like a warm blanket, dark clouds travel from the distance reminding the quiet stars flickering in the sky that the calm always happens before a storm.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever

[vindicated-truth]

As someone who loves both characters individually and together, I keep wondering if Dongsik's and Joowon's relationship is healthy.

(Please feel free to chime in with your own views, let's figure this out together lol)

Are they enablers of each other?

Yes, in a way, especially when they had no choice to, if they want to solve the cases they're working on together. They did it, however, with the promise / threat that they will each be punished for their own wrongdoing in the end.

Do they owe each other anything?

Yes, but at the same time they kind of neutralize each other in the end. Dongsik owes Joowon for catching Han Kihwan, but at the same time Joowon is also the one who arrests him. At the same time, Joowon owes Dongsik for having his own father be the murderer of Dongsik's sister, yet he brought justice to Dongsik in the end, and even followed through with Dongsik making him vow to live the rest of his life as a cop.

(To be honest, I don't think you can give a worse punishment to someone with a very rigid and absolute moral compass than to not get out of a very corrupt and broken system.)

Do they have an equal footing with each other in their hierarchical society?

Not at the beginning, but they do in the end.

Do they have a rose-colored glasses view of each other?

This is debatable, when from the very beginning they've already seen the absolute worst of each other. They can only go up from there, so to speak, since they've never really forgotten each of the other's flaws even as their relationship progressed into something less combative and more of grudging awe.

They do have a somewhat idealized view of each other in the end, but that's mostly because of experience, what they went through together: they know exactly what the other did for them, and can't help but feel grateful for it.

Do they complement each other?

I've written multiple posts about it lol, so it goes without saying that in many, many ways, their weaknesses are complemented extremely well by the other's strengths.

Do they ruin each other?

See, this is the thing: I think they've ruined each other for other people.

Their relationship evolved from a unique mix of their own complementary traits and their special circumstances, neither of which I believe can be replicated by and with anyone else.

No one else would have a deeper understanding of Dongsik's lunacy than Joowon, who witnessed first hand what drove him to it—and by whom.

No one else would have a deeper understanding of Joowon's stubbornness than Dongsik, who witnessed first hand the lengths Joowon would go to complete his goals—and why.

It's a very unique circumstance that only the two of them will share and intimately know about each other, for better or for worse, by virtue of the fact that they are each driven to be who they are now, ironically, by Han Kihwan.

By virtue of being Lee Yuyeon's murderer, and by virtue of being Han Joowon's father.

That's the power Han Kihwan had and will always have over them. They are who they are in part because of what he did to them, separately and together.

That's what makes him the true monster of the story, the "final boss" of the series of monsters that both Dongsik and Joowon had to deal with, not because he was the "best" or "most powerful" of the villains—he was actually the weakest, stupidest, and most cowardly of them all—but he had the most impact to each of their lives, in the absolute worst way.

And isn't that the true evil? What is truly angering of all? That the least of them all had the most damage done to the best of people.

Would it be healthier for them to end up with other people, someone new and different?

Objectively—yes.

My worry for Joowon is that he might always feel like he owes Dongsik, just because he intimately knows what his own family did to Dongsik's family.

And my worry for Dongsik is that he might always feel like he owes Joowon too, precisely because he intimately knows everything Joowon had to give up in order to bring justice to him.

There's a chance that their relationship might evolve the same way as, for example, Nam Sangbae's relationship with Dongsik, who had stuck with him with some misplaced sense of responsibility—even as his love and care for Dongsik had been sincere—because it was colored by guilt.

For Joowon's and Dongsik's relationship in particular, it wouldn't necessarily be out of guilt—they've already punished each other, so to speak, in ways they deem fitting—but out of gratitude.

I can't be sure if that's a healthy foundation of a relationship, to be with each other because you're grateful to them. Perhaps that's also why I find it more believable to accept the actual ending of the story as the right one, if only because they need that time apart to re-discover who they are without the shadow of Han Kihwan looming over them—in different ways—so that if and when they choose to come back to each other, it'll be after a re-affirmation of their own sense of selves, this time free from everything that had previously shackled them.

Is it better for other people to be with them?

This is just the reverse of the question above, and honestly? My objective answer is no.

It is with complete and utter love for the both of them that I say they may have ruined each other for other people.

For Joowon in particular, his new theoretical significant other might want and need a partner who would have more attention and time for them as a family, instead of one who is completely and utterly devoted to his duty as a cop.

For Dongsik in particular, his new theoretical significant other might want and need a partner who has more concrete goals and ambitions in life, and not someone who is just starting to figure out his own identity and his life after finally being free from all the shadows that dogged his steps for decades.

Because the thing is, I'm not entirely sure that their new significant others would deserve them, just because I'm also not entirely sure neither Dongsik nor Joowon would be completely happy—even as they might have sincerely loved their new theoretical partners in return—with someone who wouldn't have completely understood who they are and what they've gone through, and what they're still going through.

For better or for worse, I don't think there's anyone else who can completely understand and accept them, the best and the worst of who they are—other than each other.

In conclusion: Is it healthy?

In time, it can be. Let them come back to each other at their own pace, in their own time.

I think they do know, deep in their hearts, that—for better or for worse—there will be no other.

And I think that can also be their motivation too, to do their best to make up for their mistakes, to live their best life and be the best of who they can be, and find their own ways to heal and move forward, because they have someone waiting for them.

Someone to come home to.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 18

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: and we are here, one more chapter to go. any ideas? any thoughts? I hope you enjoyed this ride because i surely do! listen to ocean and engines by niki to feel this chapter a little more. alsooooo, i'm hinting a new series with the close of this one with our favorite second lead.

About You Series

2014, Sochi Autodrom

It was the first Formula 1 race in Russia and everyone expected fanfares about it yet the reality is far different. It was rare that the whole grid was so quiet. The grid was always buzzing with reporters trying to get a scoop to photographers capturing every single interaction to fans clamoring to get signature from their favorite driver. Today, the whole paddock seems to be walking on eggshells.

Well what does everyone expect when it has just been four days since that awful tragedy in Japan. It felt like it was so wrong in many levels that the drivers are back on track when one of their own is currently fighting for his life.

The doctors told them that there is a possibility for recovery but all can only be determined when he regains consciousness. It was hard to hold on to false hope so the feeling of grief sits heavy on their shoulders.

There were drivers who are angry. Checo Perez was in a screaming match with one of the FIA officials during media day. He demanded how is it possible with all the safety precautions that has been implemented, a tragedy such as this still exist. Jenson, although a little more calmer in his tone, asked for someone to be accountable for what happened to Jules.

Some were emotional. It cannot be denied that those closest with Jules couldn't keep their tears in. Max Chilton, his teammate, was crying the minute he saw that their garage only has one car. He was so used to seeing Jules greeting him and having him on track that it felt unreal that he may never see him again. Another one struggling is Daniel, who has been Jules' bestfriend. Ever since Suzuka, his eyes were red from crying and his usual happy self was gone. It has deeply affected his race performance but he couldn't hide how he feels.

Then there were those who are driven with guilt. Lewis should have felt like in cloud nine after gaining the driver's championship yet he felt empty. No celebrations for that because how could he be happy when Jules is still unconscious. Adrian Sutil founds himself in a battle with guilt even if no one was blaming him. He witnessed the whole thing in front of him and it all happened so fast.

For Sebastian, it wasn't an option to be emotional, angry, or guilty. He has to be rational and if possible hide his feelings as much as possible. He takes it upon himself to look after the whole grid, it was the least that he could do for everyone.

But then in rare moments where he is in his driver's room, an hour away from the race, he lets his guard down.

"Seb, I'm just dropping these oranges"Y/N wheeled in "Seb?"

The distress signals were calling Y/N with how Sebastian stayed with his back turned. His heavy breathing and the shaking hands were a dead giveaway that he has been crying.

"I'm okay, I'm okay" Sebastian repeated like a mantra.

He knows that Y/N has her own fair share of emotions to deal with Jules' tragedy. It mirrored her own a few months ago and she would spend night sleepless after being tormented by the memories of the accident. He needs to show that he is someone strong that Y/N can lean on so he cannot afford to show her that he is crying.

"Please seb, you can talk to me"Y/N begged, inching closer.

"I'm okay, I'm okay"

"Please Seb, I'm just trying to help you"Y/N explained "Please don't shut me out"

"I said I'm fine."

The tone was harsher than what Sebastian has intended. Even he was shocked by his voice and he couldn't help but face her to apologize. A very wrong decision on his part because he saw how equally shocked Y/N has been.

"I'm sorry, I just" Sebastian was lost for words "I'm just honestly so tired and you have been pressing me for something...but I'm still really sorry"

Y/N nodded her head. She was with Sebastian with the past few days and this has been a common occurrence. A part of her hurts that Sebastian seems to be shutting her out but there was the rational part of her brain that tells her that this is just a normal response from the accident. She bits back some of her words and lets out a heavy sigh.

"I'm really sorry" Sebastian embraced her.

She nods reluctantly, there was nothing she could do if Sebastian doesn't want to say anything. For all the years she knew Sebastian, he could be stubborn when he wants to.

Y/N reached out for an orange and handed it to Sebastian.

"Can you peel one?"Y/N asked "Just like our old traditions?"

A small smile appeared on his face and it felt like they were back to the good old days. It seems like it was just yesterday when they were sharing their first oranges and thinking that it brought some kind of luck during Sunday races.

Both of them wish that they were just back to much simpler times. When Sebastian was still a young reckless driver, who wants to prove himself and Y/N was still Mark's assistant. When the problems that they faced were still menial and nothing is as complicated like how they are right now.

They spent some time in silence eating their oranges until the clock starts ticking closer to the start of the race. The buzz of the door outside is getting a bit louder and both of them wished that they can just disappear inside the driver's room forever.

"You come back safe to me Seb" Y/N wistfully stated. The tender smile that they both shared knows how much this sentence weighs right now.

"I'm always coming back for you"

2014, Circuit of the America

Plenty of emails have remained unread ever since Y/N took her leave from the office. Although, it was not part of her job description, Jenson trusted her to sort his emails. Her replacement is someone competent but she is not someone that Jenson could trust yet, hence the pile up.

It was now time to open up the emails and delete the unnecessary ones as it takes up a lot of space. Jenson places himself at the hotel cafe, ready with a cup of coffee to keep himself awake.

"How does she do this every single day"Jenson mutters under his breath.

His respect raised somewhat higher after looking at 10 emails. Most of them were brand deals or an invitation to join a shady business deals. Jenson sorted out the mails into junk or those he would check on with his manager.

Ping.

Jenson almost groans upon realizing that there was a new email that has just been sent. He was ready to say forget it and let it have its turn to be waited upon. But then the subject of the email was written in all caps and bold, emphasizing the gravity of it all.

'WEBBER RESIGNATION LETTER'

The document attached to the email was plain and simple. It discusses how her accident has caused her incapable of fulfilling her duties and that she needed time off to recover completely. She stated how it was one of the best years to be able to work in McLaren and it was unfortunate how it has to end this way.

On another hand, the email itself was a personal letter to Jenson.

"Dear Jenson,

First of all, I apologize since I didn't have the courage to tell you all of this in person. This is an incredibly tough decision to make and I wasn't even sure if I was actually doing this until I hit the sent button. I'm really sorry that I'm emailing something because I'm too scared to face you right now.

Second, I wanted to thank you for everything. You have been the person that I have spent a lot of good and bad days with. You also let me see the different variations of you. The media may always paint you as a cheeky guy who was lucky to win a championship but I see more than that. You are a good person who cares a lot. You love rarely but its genuine. You push yourself to the limits even when you have a shit car or even teammate.

Lastly, I hope that my resignation will bring you peace. I know that you keep blaming yourself for my accident and you still think that you should have been the one driving the car. It pains me that you blame yourself for what happened to me. It wasn't your fault Jenson. I will keep repeating it a hundred times over until you get it through your thick skull. Learn how to forgive yourself and not be too harsh on yourself.

Jenson, I wish I could tell you how much I wanted to stay in this world. Motorsports is the only thing that I know but I have to take some time off. I have to heal myself physically, mentally and maybe even spiritually. Everything has been really draining and it is taking a toll on me. I know you may hate me for my decision but I hope you could understand this one day.

Always with you Jenson, Y/N.

The laptop's mousepad was slippery due to the tears that have fallen from Jenson. He felt a wave of embarrassment after realizing that he was in a public place and it would have made big headlines if someone caught him crying like this.

"Are you okay Mr Button?" a small voice tugged Jenson's jacket.

Jenson saw a young boy in buzzcut wearing a pajama set. He seems to be no less than 10 years old. Jenson immediately fixes his face to greet him.

"Yeah, I'm okay kiddo" Jenson tries to force a smile.

"My sister says its not nice to lie" the boy pointed out "however sometimes my sister lies sometimes pretend things are better than it seems. She says those lies are happy lies"

The ability of children to see through people should be discussed. Jenson finds himself tearing up a bit more after being confronted by a child.

"Here is my hanky"the boy pushed his blue handkerchief towards Jenson "I think you need this today Mr. Button"

Jenson smiles gratefully, he wanted to ask the name of the boy and thank him when someone else approached the table.

"You're Jenson Button? Can we take a photo?"

"Yeah sure"Jenson agreed.

The giddy McLaren fans immediately went next to him. He smiled the best he could and he hoped that his crying wasn't that all visible. After all is said and done, the fans thanked him.

Jenson turned to look for the kid but he was long gone. The existence of their interaction only existed with the blue handkerchief which has the name RJ.

Maybe someday he will meet that RJ kid again to thank him.

2014, Interlagos

When Y/N suggested that they have something to talk about during dinner, Sebastian took it as a sign to make it up for her. He knows how difficult he has been the past few weeks and it took him a while to revert back to his old self. He also knows that this has been a difficult season for Y/N with the accident, Michael, Jules, and every fiasco. They deserve a night out.

And like a poetic justice, he wanted to replace the horrible memory of the restaurant in Brazil last year.

He went all out with the whole preparation. He was dressed in some nice polo, a beautiful dress sent to Y/N, and a gorgeous flower arrangement. He planned to make this evening something memorable and a far better ending than last year.

But the candlelit dinner seems to be lacking its romantic aura with the way that their food has been half-eaten and their wines untouched. It doesn't take a genius to guess that this evening might not go well.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Sebastian spoke up "You don't like the food?"

"It's fine, I'm just not hungry" her voice was almost a whisper.

In Y/N's head, she felt extremely guilty. She wanted a simple dinner with Sebastian to talk to him about her plans to take time off F1 and take a break. But seeing how Sebastian prepared so much for the dinner date, she felt like she couldn't find a perfect timing to break the news to him.

"You don't have to keep hiding, you could talk to me"Sebastian urged her to open up.

There was no point in prolonging the agony, might as well rip the bandages out.

She sucked in air as she delivers the news, "I'm resigning as Jenson's PR"

The fork that Sebastian was holding clatters down his plate. Surprise was evident on his face since he didn't expect this at all. There must be another team offering her a job that's why she resigned.

"Did Ferrari offer you a job?" Sebastian was trying to be optimistic. "Or did Nico finally poach you to join Mercedes-"

"No other teams, I'm just resigning"

His eyes were looking at her trying to see if there is any bluff or whatsoever, "Can I ask why?"

"There has just been a lot going on"Y/N admitted "I needed to heal and get back on my feet. I need to focus on getting better so I don't have to trouble you lot"

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Sebastian pressed “If that’s the only thing bothering you then you don’t have to worry about a thing. I can always fly to Monaco during weekends which are not race weekends and-“

Sebastian stops upon seeing the sad smile that she has on her face. Her hands pushed the set of keys that he entrusted to her. There was a moment of silence between the two of them and its like they could hear both their hearts pounding in this impending moment of confrontation.

“I have to go on my own Seb”Y/N explained “All the stuffs that I have to relearn, I need time to recover from everything that happened”

‘Then I’ll be by your side,’ Sebastian wanted to protest. But he felt lost for words.

“This whole situation is far from healthy and I cannot burden you any longer when you are also struggling to cope with the losses that we have experienced”

Slumping back at his seat, Sebastian could just recount the several events that happened in the past few months. Everything was a whirlwind for the two of them and at the back of his mind, he knows that Y/N is being reasonable. She needed time to recover from the tragedies and Sebastian also needed to cope healthily rather than pushing people away.

He gazed at her and he seems to notice for the first time how its taking a toll on her. It was a far different cry from that girl who he first met but Sebastian couldn’t help his feelings.

“But I love you” Sebastian managed to say something at last. He loves Y/N so much and the pang of pain in her eyes shows how Y/N loves him as well.

“And I do love you Seb”her voice cracking “But this isn’t a right time for us since we’re both broken and we will end up hurting each other if we stay together”

It wasn’t unlike Sebastian to give up in a fight. He was born to be competitive and fight for what he wants. However, how could he continue to fight when the white flag is already waved and its only waiting for his peaceful retreat.

“So what now..”he wondered.

“I’ll try to find myself”she answered bravely but tears were stinging her eyes “And I wish we could both recover and we can find happiness again”

He could only scoff at that, “That’s impossible for me to do”

“Seb please..”

“You can’t just ask me to let go of you and leave you alone when all I wanted to do is be by your side” Sebastian continues “I love you Y/N and isn’t love just enough to keep us going through things together?”

The woman in front of him started laughing bitterly. He could hear the laughter taunting him but at the same time the tears were falling down her cheeks. It was a whiplash of emotions.

“I wish love was enough that it could help me walk again. I wish love was strong enough that Jules is awake. I fucking wish love was enough that you don’t have to push me away when I was trying to ask you what’s going on.”

Both of them stared at each other like they were trying to figure out who was the stranger sitting in front of them. They both didn’t know how it suddenly escalated and turned into this kind of situation.

“All I ever wanted was a clean break”Y/N pointed “I was trying to take care of you Seb”

“No”Seb rejected “You’re running away from your problems”

Wiping her tears away, Y/N sent a message to Mark. It was a good thing that Mark insisted on being nearby so that if the whole thing goes south then he could pick her up right away.

“I’m leaving now. This is goodbye”

Y/N struggled to wheel herself out but she would not ask Sebastian for any help. She managed to turn her back from Sebastian and she felt hurt that Sebastian was not doing anything to stop her from leaving.

“Did you love me?”

The question stings Y/N and she halts. If she didn’t love Sebastian then she would be selfish and stayed with Sebastian to burden him with her troubles. She loves him so much to the point that she refuses that he was a getting a broken version of herself. She loves him to the point that he recognizes that she didn’t want to hurt Sebastian in the long run that’s why she chooses to recover and heal.

“It don’t care if you don’t”Sebastian declared “Because I love you and I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I will wait for you until you feel better, until you feel okay. I’ll be here”

Those words were something that she badly want to hear. It almost made her abandon the idea of leaving everything behind, she wanted to be so selfish. But she kept going and tried to not look back.

“Goodbye Sebastian”

[abouttomakeanameformyself]

Someone New Chapter one: Someone gets hurt

When you go through a breakup, you find yourself drinking your feelings and looking for a place to stay. You stumble into a seedy bar and meet a certain bartender.

Pt 1/10

1/5 🌶️ (references to sex but it's mostly implied)

This is part of a series I will be updating regularly. Tropes include friends to lovers, friends with benefits, roommates, and GrumpyxSunshine. In flirty bartender Remy we trust.

Rejection hung around like smoke in the air as your doc martens thudded down Royal street. The stench and sounds of Bourbon was overestimating to the senses, but that's quarter for you. You've been avoiding the French Quarter since you started at Tulane University five years ago, but most New Orleans natives did. It was loud, crowded, and busy with sad drunk tourists. Given the fact you were sad and mildly buzzed it was actually the perfect hideaway. 

The bounds between Decatur, Canal, Esplanade and Rampart were a personal fucky-Bucky free zone. Plus, open container laws. Since you were old enough to drink now, it seemed appropriate that you could drown your sorrows in $15 of watery sugar booze. The hangover was going to be horrific but horrific enough to jump scare you out of your current while also equally horrific predicament. 

You have been with your boyfriend James since the end of your sophomore year, when a booze infused hookup became a relationship. You lasted through the rest of undergrad, and into Grad school. Until today. Nothing says happy midterms like walking in on your boyfriend of 3 years being straddled by your best friend. 

You passed pissed a long time ago. Right now it was settled into a mix of numbness and shock. The list of things to do was subtly growing. 

Move out

 Get a better apartment 

Get really hot.

Try not to cry in public. 

It sucked. The whole situation fucking sucked. It was still better than forgiving Yelena and possibly seeing her fuck James a second time. It wasn't bad enough that she needed your boyfriend, she had to ruin your rent controlled historic apartment in the lower Garden District. Assholes. 

It was worth mentioning that Kate would at one point or another need to know that her girlfriend was bopping your boyfriend. Kate was 18 months younger than you and felt like a baby sister. Forget your own relationship, Yelena was gonna hurt pookie. That was unforgivable. You didn't want to tell her, but the whole predicament of the fact that she deserved to know. 

The little voice in the back of your head, that sounded an awful lot like James was telling you that you were projecting your feelings on Kate. The other little voice in the back of your head that sounded like your mother told you that you needed to do right regardless of how it relates to you. Both of those voices combined didn't really help you make a decision at all, it was just starting to give you a migraine. 

What started as a walk long walk around campus turned into a streetcar ride to mid-city. Or maybe Magazine street. About 3 hours ago that turned into roaming aimlessly through crowds of tourists. People at the Boot on campus could easily put two or two together, or even worse you could run into the ex-boyfriend and the ex-boyfriend rider. It was all too fresh. You needed a fucking drink, and hiding in hand grenades and voodoo daiquiris with the degenerate middle aged tourists was comforting. Their midlife crisis drinking was a blanket over your own crisis drinking.

The Quarter was jam packed. Especially for a Wednesday. The stickiness of the summer evenings have given way to a warm breeze, with the occasional chill. Louisiana never got cold the way it did back in South Dakota. You had the right wardrobe choice for going on a shame stroll around the city. A pair of mom and James's old Net’s shirt was casual and comfortable.

It was one of your favorite articles of clothing actually. It was soft from years of washing, and hung on your frame perfectly. It didn't matter that you didn't know what a Net even was, you loved the shirt. Well fuck him. He's not getting it back. Sure, holding a shirt hostage was kinda petty, but sliding your dick into your girlfriend's best friend was also petty.  

The vibrating in your pocket was the tell tale sign that people were worried. Or that shirt man was trying to crawl out of the hole he buried himself in. Which happens to be your friend's hol- that wasn't important. Half of you wanted to throw your phone on the ground and mentally unplug, but the reality of the situation was you were gonna be too drunk to take the streetcar efficiently. You needed your phone to Uber home. 

The tourists seemed to be thinning out the further you moved down Royal Street. All the excitement was a block over Bourbon usually, but it was nice from the crowds you witnessed earlier. Less out of towners destroying the historic district with alcohol containers and public indecency. The fewer people around made the Quarter a little bit nicer. Suddenly the tourists made sense. It was pretty when it was quiet. 

The galleries and boutique bars separated Royal from Bourbon’s roll of party spots. It was a completely different vibe. While you didn't hold much artistic ability, it was grounding to look at the masterpieces through the windows. There was something so comforting about the way it made you think about something else. It was a quick reprieve from the memory of your boyfriend's face as he was quite literally balls to the wall inside your long term roommate. 

Your wandering around the Quarter turned into a lazy stroll, and the sky turned dim. The weight of the day wore you out and all you wanted was a pick me up. You've heard that Erin Rose apparently had an amazing Irish coffee but that seemed like the opposite of where you wanted to be. At this point, you had a shitty margarita from a crap bar on Bourbon. Just enough to be tipsy but that wasn't enough, you needed to hear colors and see sounds. 

You were tired, but a familiar aroma brought you back to life with a single sniff. 

Now, Tulane taught you a lot in the several years you've been in attendance. The graduate programs at Tulane were coveted spots. Yet, not everything was an academic experience. Your ability to sniff out the perfect espresso martini was not because of education it was more of a passion based skill. It was a life line. The wave of coffee and vodka and serotonin was far more intoxicating than Sir bottom shelf tequila.

The glittering lights of the bar across the street caught your eye. Glowing yellow lights in a cursive script spelled out Lebeau’s. It seemed like a local place, with the smooth lighting and moody exterior. Carefully, one doc in front of the other you stepped in. 

The walls were this beautiful authentic exposed brick. The bar was sleek, with smooth jazz playing low in the background. Dark violet accents framed the dreary wood that the majority of the furniture consisted of. It was almost empty, except for one man in the corner of the bar, playing solitaire by himself on one of the cocktail tables by the door. No bartender though. 

Your brows furrowed, and you stepped in. The quiet was inviting. Whoever was in charge was probably just giving a run to the storage room or something. 

“I would consider another sponsorship, ‘Cher. ‘Pecially around these parts.” A crisp voice broke out in the quaint silence, absolutely ruining the vibes. 

When you walked into the bar, you came with the intention of drinking. While you knew you weren't alone, you didn't really care about the card guy. People go to bars to sit alone and decompress, not to bug random civilians. Only weirdos jump into random conversations with no warning. When the smoky Cajun drawl, it took you a solid 30 seconds to realize that you weren't hallucinating. 

Your head slowly turned to face the stranger, only this time there was no maneuvering of cards. He was staring at you. Red on black eyes flicking down your frame quickly. Only, it didn't feel like he was checking you out. It felt more analytical than it was pervy, which was comforting. Well, it was comforting in the way that you weren't being objectified but he was still fucking staring at you, which was an issue. “Pardon?” 

“Your shirt, Nets. Not popular in these parts. Ya’ from out of town, Chérie? New Jersey? I think the Nets are Jersey.” He was leaning on his elbows, forearms resting against the wooden tabletop.

 He had one of those scruffy patches of stubble on his face, that was still clearly facial hair but looked well maintained. Clearly he was aiming for a rugged appearance, and he wasn't far off. He wasn't unattractive actually. He was quite attractive. You couldn't dwell on it much, because the second you had the realization that he wasn't completely unfortunate looking, James's face flashed in your mind. 

“First of all buddy, not New Jersey. The Nets are from Brooklyn. Second of all, no, I'm not from New Jersey. Third of all, don't you dare tee-shirt shame me. It's not even my damn shirt. Also, the shirt is not that important, I just want a fucking drink.” You said in response, brows furrowing in frustration. There has to be a bartender at this place, who has a fully stocked empty bar and isn't behind the count- 

The stranger smirked as the realization was dawning on you that he was the Bartender. Well fuck me today I guess. He stood from his seat, grinning at your clear embarrassment, the cheeky bastard. He had one of those faces that always looked like he was sort of smirking. Great. Just what you needed! You just snapped at the bartender and he clearly found it funny. 

Suddenly a lobotomy seemed more desirable than a martini. When you have that change up maybe professional help should be seeked. 

“If you're wearing another man's shirt, I’d say that he has bad taste. Looking at you though, I can tell that's not true. Remy Labeau is a lot of things but he's not a liar.” Oh lovely. Flirty bartender. How horribly fucking cliche. “Now what can get you to drink, Beau?” 

At least he was smart enough to offer you a drink.

“Espresso martini. It's my ex's shirt, it just happens to be what I wore today.” You were still standing in the middle of the room. It was silly, but earlier you halted your movements to have a full conversation about your shirt for some reason. With a few steps, you slipped into a seat at the bar. 

Exhaustion hits your body like a ton of bricks the second you find yourself in a position of rest. You've been up since about 7, went to bed at 3, had two midterm- god you've been so preoccupied with the fact James Buchanan shit-for-brains Barnes sucked that you completely forgot that you just finished this semester midterms. To look on the bright side at least he had the decency to get caught cheating after your tests. Fucking asshole. You haven't stopped moving since you ran out of your bedroom hours earlier. 

“If it's an ex, then he has bad taste if he gave something up that looks as good as you.” Remy replied, his smirk faltering slightly. The statement sounded flirtatious, but something behind his eyes felt disconnected somehow. Okay, so what if a generic hot bartender had layers? Half of the job requirement is being nice to sad drunk people. 

Remy carefully slid over that treasured martini, just as you requested. “Personally, I think you'd be a lot kinder to me if you laid off the caffeine ‘Chérie. Ya’ seem jumpy. So, this ex. Is it a new ex? Or?” 

It seemed like curiosity. Harmless. The first instinct you had was to go for the throat and tell him it was none of his business. He was just trying to do his job. Make the drunk girl at the bar feel supported so you get a tip yadda yadda. You sighed, tilting your head back and bracing yourself for the information you were about to dump on this poor man. “Actually, very new. About-” You paused to pull your phone out of your pocket for the time, grimacing at the 17 missed calls and the 43 unread messages. “I would say around 8 hours ago. Give or take.” 

Remy’s brows rose, as his dark eyes analyzed your face. He clearly didn't believe you. “You broke up with him? Remy thinks that he wouldn't let one like you get away that easily, beau.” 

The flattery was kind in theory. It was this poor blue-collar worker's attempt to make you feel better. That is not what happened, of course. It was like the healing bruise was prodded. So instead of actually responding with words, like a normal fucking person, the tears were immediate. 

Remy was less prepared for the random tests than you were. The tall, broad man was startled, his eyes widening in shock. His body ducked down, searching for napkins or tissues or something. The random and very ugly crying had the annoying hot bartender in a state of panic. He seemed so smooth up until now, but clearly you caught him off guard. “Fuck m- I didn't mean to make you cry.” 

“It's totally fine.” You mumbled through the tears. Your mental stability hit the wall. It was going to happen eventually. Emotional and physical exhaustion was playing at your mental stability. You needed to get a hold of yourself. “It's not your fault. It's not my fault either. I came back from an exam to find him underneath my best friend. In my bed. I'm-”

You trailed off, taking a moment to control your breathing, before deciding to reinsert your foot in your mouth. Not like you'll ever see him again. “It's just very new. I felt like I had this perfect set up, now I'm back at square one. I had this perfect relationship and I loved my apartment. I have put years into a friendship with this person. I lost a rent controlled apartment in the garden district. An affordable apartment in that neighborhood is about as common as a golden fucking unicorn.” 

Remy listened to your words, standing back up to his full height. His dark eyes searched your face. His smirk faded into a relaxed expression. The only indicator that he was actually thinking was his eyebrows, which were furrowed together. He looked quite analytical actually. 

“That's a lot actually. I'm sorry.” His words were so genuine. The expected move from the hot bartender handbook would be Remy telling you that you were too good for James, or that he didn't know what he was missing. That never came. Just an apology and an acknowledgement that it was hard news. There was no fake pity in his voice. It was honestly incredibly refreshing.

“I know I need to find someplace to stay. The friend was my roommate, and she's on the lease. I'll have to go get my stuff but I'm hoping to go when they are in work or class. It's basically impossible to completely move out without one of them showing up. I guess I'll have to go in shifts or leave some stuff behind.” Your attention shifted back to your ignored martini, and you were thankful for the excuse to silence yourself by bringing the glass to your lips. 

“No bébé. You won't.” He said, his intense thought process breaking as easily as a single strand of hair. 

He caught you off guard as you dabbed your eye with a drink napkin. “Wh- I'm sorry. What do you mean I won't?”

“You won't be alone to get your things, beautiful. You won't need multiple trips. I'm taking you to get your things in the morning. You're gonna stay with me. My friend Scott just moved into an apartment with his girlfriend Jean. I have an extra room. You're going to be my new roommate.”

[dadattebayo]

You know what guys…

I just watched this teaser for the final episode, and of course I am thrilled and blown away by Sauron's maniac face telling he is gonna rape his preciousssss eat Galadriel alive

oh fuck help me i can´t

BUT

I still have something to say. Like okay, i get it, all this unspoken sexual tension and stuff between them, and kinda obvious crazy thirst for her in his creepy face - all could be fine by me except the one tiny detail. What we can see more in this teaser is another freaking kiss that is going to happen this time between Isildur and his girl sorry I forgot her name,

so what’s really pissing me off is that so far we would have 4 kisses in the show and basically these are 4 KISSES NO ONE ACTUALLY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT.

1. Harfoots. Who cares about the hobbits kissing scene? Like what the hell was it for? Does someone for real ship them? Was this kiss important to the story?

Fucking NO.

2. Elrond and Galadriel. Totally unnecessary. No one expected this and no one would want this to happen actually. Especially considering the fact he eventually just put the key into her hand without any special use of his mouth required.

Okay I get it can explained he wanted to distract the orcs, but anyway, somehow the writers did came up with this particular idea!

3. Arondir and Bronwin. Totally fine by me except she´s dead now.

4. Now Isildur and Estrid (I remembered the name).

At first I was blind enough watching the teaser to think it was Halbrand so I got a mini stroke.

Pretty sure once we will see Elendil/Miriel kissing too. Of course I do not mind any of these kisses happening, I even ship some of them but still these are not something the whole fandom is waiting for.

There is literally only one kiss EVERYONE is expecting. Not only the haladriel shippers, but everyone (some might want it to happen, some might not, but it would not be a surprise for anyone) since in fact nobody has ever asked for Saurondriel in the first place, it was totally up to the showrunners to literally just start pushing this ship into our throats from their first meeting using all scrupulously planned moments between them throughout the season 1 and countless hints and moments of nostalgia in the season 2! God, they even invented the whole Mirdania character just to prove Sauron´s feelings (and of course to show his cruelty later, but thats not the point)

guess where the kiss should have happened if they hadn't been interrupted

The writers made this ship up consciously and intentionally. THEY HAVE BEEN FEEDING US WITH HALADRIEL SINCE THE BEGINING,

So why the fuck this couple which has always been promoted in such obvious way is the only one that is not likely to get a goddamn kiss?! At this point i would rather believe that even Stranger and Nori would kiss, but not Saurondriel.

This is disturbing. BECAUSE EXCUSE ME WE'LL HAVE TO WAIT 2 MORE YEARS to get the s3. I am not still quite sure though cause there is still no official announcement on s3

So, they all have already messed up enough with the original plot by putting some of the kisses mentioned above in the series, so why just not let also Saurondriel finally happen? What difference would it make anyway? none! all plot holes will all be fixed thanks to impossibility to fix sauron.

I am just fed up with another 'LETS TOUCH THE DARKNESS TOGETHER', "NO NEVER', 'DIE BECAUSE OF ME', BLABLA...

It needs something better to get us screaming and making views to the show.

[bruhnze]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHAPTER 4 – Attraction

Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).

October 5, 2023: vs. Valencia CF (6-0, home) October 8, 2023: vs. Real Sociedad (3-0, home) October 15, 2023: vs. Atlético Madrid (1-0, away)

It had been a few weeks since that night. The first night she and Lucy had been together in one bed. When Ona had been cuddled up against someone who made her feel far more than she'd ever admit. And it hadn’t been a one-time thing. During the next away game, they’d ended up sleeping like that again. Twice. Both nights they stayed there, the warmth of Lucy’s body against hers, the steady rise and fall of her breathing, had become something Ona looked forward to happening again.

Ona kept repeating to herself that it was just for comfort, for both of them. They were teammates, they were friends. Just sharing a bed for some cuddles, falling into comfortable silence after a day of travel or matches, it didn’t mean anything. But no matter how much she told herself that, she couldn’t help the excitement building inside her as another away game approached.

After two successful games at home, Ona’s focus wasn’t entirely on the field anymore. She had played well, maybe even better than usual, but beneath it all, she had caught herself enjoying Lucy’s company more and more. There was no denying it. She enjoyed how they teased each other, how they joked together, how they pushed one another to be better during practice. Even the coach had complimented them on how well they worked together.

Now, it was the morning of the trip. Ona was deep in thought as she stood in her apartment, unable to stop herself from feeling eager about the journey to Atlético Madrid. The game wasn’t until the end of the week, but today marked the start of their trip. They would travel early so they could rest and train there before the match.

She was going to meet Lucy in a few minutes to drive to the stadium together. From there, the team would have a short flight to Madrid, followed by a light training session at the fields near the stadium where the game would take place.

Ona glanced at the time on her phone. Almost time to go. She felt that familiar flutter in her stomach, the same one that seemed to arise every time she was about to see Lucy. Over the past few weeks, she had tried to ignore it, to shove it down and act like everything was fine. But it was getting harder. Lucy’s smiles, the way she teased Ona without ever seeming to notice how it made her heart race. It was too much sometimes. Ona was happy to have built up such a good friendship, but the closeness was also hard. A little painful maybe even. She was so close to having something she knew she’d never have.

Pulling her suitcase to the door, Ona couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to that last away trip. The way Lucy had casually draped an arm around her as they watched a match of some other football club in their hotel room on Lucy´s iPad, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, later, when they had gotten ready for bed, it was like they didn’t even need to talk about it. They just curled up together. She could remember waking up with Lucy’s breath warm against the back of her neck like it had happened a few minutes ago.

And now, with this trip ahead, Ona could feel the excitement building again. She knew she was being ridiculous. Lucy was Lucy. Funny, playful, but most of all seemingly oblivious to anything happening beyond a friendship. But for Ona, those nights they shared were becoming something more. She had conflictive thoughts about how ethical all of this was towards Lucy. If she knew someone had a raging crush on her she´d definitely wouldn´t hold them so close, and definitely wouldn´t be wearing only some underwear.

Ona felt a little bit bad and definitely a little dirty about it, but the images she´d gathered from sharing rooms would make a regular appearance when she would have some alone time. But for some reason she felt ten times better then when she used to hold Lucy´s Instagram open, that used to bring a lot of anxiety for a stupid accidental like.

…

The team had arrived in Madrid, dropped off their bags, and gone through a pre-training routine. This time the schedule had been treatment, stretching, then Ona had had bit of downtime in the hotel room. But despite the team being together for most things, Ona hadn’t seen much of Lucy since they arrived. It was almost like she’d disappeared.

Now, everyone was in the dressing room, the team getting ready for field training. The mood was light, there was a familiar buzz of matchday -1 excitement as players chatted and prepped themselves, pulling on socks and tying boots. Ona sat quietly in front of her locker, her thoughts drifting as she laced up her shoes, listening only half-heartedly to the conversations around her.

Just then, the door Ona had been keeping an eye on, opened again. Lucy walked in. Ona looked at her surprised. Lucy’s usual bright and smiley demeanor was missing, replaced with a slight frown. She tossed her boots down with more force than usual, her movements quick and a little tense as she began putting on her training kit.

Ona watched from her spot, noticing how Lucy avoided looking at anyone, her jaw clenched. The rest of the team didn’t seem to pay much attention, continuing their own routines, slowly trickling out the dressing room one by one as they finished getting ready.

Patri and Bruna were the last to leave, still mid-conversation as they headed for the door. “You coming, Ona?” Patri asked, glancing back at her.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Ona replied, her gaze still lingering on Lucy. She had been pretending to tie her boots for maybe 10 minutes already.

Once the door closed behind them, Ona hesitated for a moment before standing up and quietly making her way over. Lucy was sitting on the bench, still fiddling with her boots, her shoulders tense. Ona could feel the unease radiating from her. Without thinking much about it, she sat down beside Lucy.

“Hey,” Ona said softly, laying a hand on Lucy’s back. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, Lucy didn’t respond, her focus still on the boots in her hands. But then she sighed, her shoulders slumping as if she was finally letting go of some invisible weight. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, but her voice wavered just enough for Ona to know it was a lie.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Ona said gently, leaning in a little closer.

Lucy’s hand stilled, her fingers tightening around the laces. “It’s just... my knee,” she finally admitted, her voice low, almost reluctant. “It’s been bothering me again.”

Ona’s heart squeezed a little at the confession. She knew how much Lucy prided herself on pushing through pain, how much she hated admitting when something was wrong. “Is it bad?” Ona asked, her tone soft with concern.

Lucy shook her head quickly. “Not physically. It doesn’t hurt too bad. It’s... it’s more the way I feel about it than the actual pain.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the knee strap she had been wearing off and on during the season. Her fingers hovered over it for a second before she dropped it onto the floor with a small thud. “I have to wear that stupid thing again.”

Ona looked at the strap and then back at Lucy, her expression softening. “Aww, come on,” she said, her voice light but warm, trying to lift the mood a little. “Let me help.”

Before Lucy could protest, Ona was already kneeling in front of her, picking up the knee strap. Lucy blinked, surprised by the sudden gesture, but she didn’t say anything, just watched as Ona carefully positioned the strap around her knee. ‘’This side right?’’

Lucy nodded, watching Ona attentively.

Ona worked quietly, her fingers gently securing the Velcro, adjusting it with a focus that made Lucy’s breath catch. She didn’t realize how good of a friend Ona was until now - how careful, how thoughtful she was being. For a moment, the tension in her body eased, but then, almost out of nowhere, Lucy felt a sudden sting of emotion rising in her chest. She blinked, trying to push it back, but her eyes betrayed her, filling with tears.

“Hey,” Ona said softly, her fingers pausing on the last strap as she looked up at Lucy, her eyes filled with concern.

Lucy quickly wiped at her cheeks, embarrassed by the tears. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” she mumbled, her voice rough.

“It’s okay,” Ona said quietly, she was leaning with a hand on each of Lucy’s thighs, leveling their faces trying to catch Lucy’s gaze. “It’s frustrating, I get it.”

Just then, the door slammed open. Ona and Lucy both turned their heads to see Bruna standing in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of them. “Oh, uhhh... I was just getting my shin guards, I forgot them.” Bruna stammered awkwardly, glancing between them.

Ona stood up, her hands falling to her sides as Lucy quickly wiped at her face again, standing up to grab her boots. Bruna, sensing the mood, quickly grabbed her gear from her locker and slipped out with a hurried, “See you out there.”

The door closed, leaving them in silence again. Lucy took a deep breath, her hand resting on the strap now securely in place around her knee. She glanced down at Ona, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks,” she said, her voice soft.

Ona smiled back, standing up and grabbing her own boots. “Anytime,” she replied, her tone light but sincere. “Now, come on. Let’s go train.”

Together, they headed out to join the team on the pitch.

...

At the beginning of training, the team always gathered on the field to stretch. Everyone had seemingly started already, Lucy and here were the last ones on the field.

Normally, Ona would pair up with Aitana for these exercises, but today, Bruna had apparently insisted on stretching with her instead. She called Ona over. They stood a little away from the others, quietly looping the elastic bands around their legs as they began their warm-up.

Bruna shot Ona a quick glance as they moved in sync, stretching the bands with steady resistance. After a few beats of silence, she finally asked, keeping her voice low, “So... can I ask what that was? You and Lucy in the dressing room earlier?”

Ona hesitated for a moment, knowing exactly what Bruna was referring to. She’d seen her walk in while she and Lucy had been standing close, too close maybe. “Oh,” Ona said, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, of course, you can ask.” She paused, pulling the band a little tighter. “It was to do about Lucy’s knee... it’s been bothering her again. She was just frustrated about it.”

Bruna gave a small nod, her brow furrowing slightly as she thought about it. “Right... I could tell something was off,” she murmured, glancing toward Lucy, who was stretching with a few of the other girls not too far away.

They both fell quiet again, focusing on their stretches for a few minutes, but Bruna wasn’t done. As they switched legs, she looked back at Ona with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “You two... you’re getting really close, huh?”

Ona’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral, trying not to let too much show. “Yeah,” she replied with a small smile, keeping her tone light. “She’s becoming a really good friend.”

Bruna didn’t say anything for a second, just nodded as if she was processing Ona’s answer. Then, with a knowing smile, she nudged her lightly with her elbow. “That’s nice. Lucy seems nice.’’

Ona’s smile faltered for just a split second before she nodded again, a soft “Yeah, she is,” slipping from her lips.

Bruna chuckled. ‘’A really good right back too, maybe she can teach you.”

At that Ona pushed Bruna, ‘’Oh shut up.’’ She chuckled.

As they finished their stretches, Bruna let the topic drop, and they rejoined the others, but the weight of Bruna’s words lingered in Ona’s mind, her thoughts swirling around the idea that maybe their closeness wasn’t going unnoticed after all. She was afraid everyone could notice from miles away that she had a crush on Lucy.

…

October 15

The day after their 1-0 win against Atlético Madrid had come to a close. They had completed their recovery session, shared a team dinner, and now, at midnight, they were ready for bed. Tomorrow morning, they’d fly back to Barcelona.

“What are you smiling about?” Lucy asked, her voice soft but her tone clearly curious.

“I’m just happy you felt good playing,” Ona smiled back, trying to keep her tone casual. “I heard you talking to the physio,” she added quickly, “sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just overheard.”

“It’s okay, I’m happy too,” Lucy chuckled. “Didn’t know your happiness was based on mine as well.”

Ona felt her face heat up, shrugging as she tried to play it cool. “Of course.”

“So... are we cuddling again or sleeping apart?” Lucy asked with a raised eyebrow, the casualness of her tone making Ona’s heart flutter.

Ona glanced at her, trying to keep her expression neutral, though inside she was screaming. "Whatever you like," she replied, trying to stay calm even though her mind was racing. She had been looking forward to this. The nights they'd spent curled up together had been the best part of her live since she’d joined this club again, and the thought of more made her feel warm all over.

“I’d like it,” Lucy smiled, eyes softening. “Am I coming to yours, or are you joining me?”

Ona didn’t hesitate. She was already on her feet before Lucy had finished the question.

Lucy laughed lightly, holding the covers up as Ona slipped under them with her. The small lamp on the nightstand flicked off, casting the room into the familiar quiet darkness. Out of habit, Ona nestled half on top of Lucy, just like they’d done before. It felt natural, almost like it was meant to be.

“Hmmm,” Lucy hummed as Ona buried her face in the curve of her neck. “I really like our cuddles too.” Her hand began tracing soothing circles on Ona’s back, the warmth of her touch sending pleasant shivers down Ona’s spine.

Ona’s heart thudded in her chest as she nuzzled against Lucy’s warm skin. She smelled so good, Ona thought, her senses overwhelmed by the closeness. She wanted to kiss the skin, feel the softness of Lucy’s lips. No, she tried to steady herself. It’s just cuddles... just comfort. But the sensation of Lucy’s hand slipping under her shirt, skin on skin, changed everything for her. It wasn’t just comforting anymore. It started to feel different, more intimate and suddenly, she was all too aware of how their bodies fit together.

Her breath hitched when she realized the pressure of Lucy’s thigh between her own. She shifted, trying to pull back slightly, her mind a swirl of confusion and want.

But Lucy’s arm tightened around her waist. “No, don’t leave,” Lucy murmured, her voice almost a plea. “I’m comfy.”

Ona chuckled softly, her tension melting a little.

She pressed her face back into the crook of Lucy’s neck and, without thinking, planted a soft kiss there. “Okay,” she whispered against her skin.

Lucy shifted beneath her. “Or... are you not comfy?” she asked, pulling her hand away gently.

“No, I am,” Ona hummed, almost instinctively placing another kiss, lingering a little longer this time. “Really comfy.” She took in the taste of Lucy’s skin, the scent of Lucy entering her nose.

Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. It was all her mind could come up with. Fuck, she really needed to get it together.

Lucy was quiet for a minute before asking softly, “Then why did you want to move?” It was a question but in some way it sounded like a challenge.

Ona froze, feeling the weight of the question. She didn’t have a good answer. Or rather, not one she was ready to say out loud. Why did she? Was she afraid? Nervous? The truth was, she wasn’t sure she could control herself anymore, not when they were this close. After a long pause, she sat up, straddling Lucy’s hips before she could second-guess herself.

Lucy blinked up at her, a mix of surprise and amusement. “What are you-”

Ona leaned down, her lips brushing against Lucy’s, barely touching. “Tell me to stop,” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

Please, stop me if you don’t want this, she thought desperately, though every inch of her hoped Lucy wouldn’t. “Stop me if you don’t want this,” she repeated, barely audible, feeling Lucy’s breath on her lips.

For a second, there was silence. Lucy’s eyes were wide, startled maybe, but there was no resistance. No sign she wanted Ona to pull back. And that was all the encouragement Ona needed.

She pressed a tentative kiss to Lucy’s lips. A soft, experimental nip on her bottom lip before pulling away again, her heart racing so fast she thought Lucy might hear it.

She sat back slightly, her chest rising and falling as if she’d run a marathon.

Lucy sat up slowly, her eyes locked on Ona, cheeks flushed.

“Where did I deserve that?” she asked, her voice breathy, a hint of a grin forming. Their faces now inches apart.

Ona hesitated, her gaze flicking to Lucy’s lips and back to her eyes, trying to read her. She.. liked it? Ona realized, her own lips curving into a careful smile.

Their faces were inches apart now, and before Ona could think too much, Lucy leaned in. This time, Ona didn’t hold back, answering the kiss with all the emotion she’d been bottling up for weeks, months, years.

As Lucy deepened the kiss, Ona’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind was spinning, every nerve in her body on high alert, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It was intoxicating. She could feel Lucy’s hands sliding up her sides, resting just below her ribs, fingers pressing gently, grounding her in the moment.

Ona leaned in closer, her hands slipping around the back of Lucy’s neck as their kiss deepened further. Her body was reacting without her even thinking about it, the heat between them palpable. She could feel the way Lucy’s breath hitched every time their lips met, how her hands tightened on her waist, pulling her a little closer each time.

Instinctively, Ona shifted, her hips brushing against Lucy’s as she moved. The friction sent a spark through her, and she gasped softly into the kiss. She froze for a moment, her heart pounding as she realized what she had done. But Lucy didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands slid lower, resting at the curve of Ona’s hips as if encouraging her to continue.

Ona hesitated, her lips parting from Lucy’s just enough to catch her breath. Is this okay? The thought flashed briefly through her mind, but the way Lucy’s fingers pressed into her hips, the soft murmur of her own name on Lucy’s lips, erased any doubt.

Slowly, she began to move again, her hips rocking against Lucy’s, carefully at first, then with more confidence as she felt Lucy’s body respond beneath her. The soft fabric of their clothes barely separated them, but it was enough to let Ona feel every shift, every movement, the friction sending jolts of warmth through her.

Ona’s hands trembled slightly as she took one of Lucy’s, guiding it between their bodies with slow, deliberate movements. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing as the weight of what was happening settled over her. But there was no hesitation—just an intense, overwhelming need.

The sensation of Lucy’s hand slipping under her waistband sent a shiver through her body. Ona gasped softly, burying her face in the crook of Lucy’s neck, her breath warm against her skin. She bit down on her lip, trying to stay quiet as Lucy’s fingers started to explore, tracing slow, teasing paths that made her body pulse with heat.

The touch of Lucy’s fingers sliding through her arousal was enough to make Ona groan, a breathless sound that echoed between them. She felt like she was unraveling, like every nerve in her body was on fire.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” Lucy breathed, her voice low and rough, the surprise and desire evident in her tone.

Ona lifted her hips slightly, positioning Lucy’s hand where she wanted it most. "Because of you," she whispered, her voice unsteady as her lips brushed Lucy's ear, the closeness amplifying everything between them. She let out a soft, desperate moan as Lucy’s fingers finally pressed against her entrance, the sensation sending sparks through her body. "Every time I see you in your underwear like this..." she groaned, her words dissolving into another gasp as Lucy’s thick fingers, the ones she had thought about so many times, slipped inside her.

The tight, exquisite pressure made Ona’s whole body tense for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. She pressed her forehead to Lucy’s shoulder, breathing heavily as she adjusted to the feeling. It was better than she’d imagined—better than all the nights spent wanting this, thinking about what it would feel like to finally have Lucy touch her this way.

Lucy’s other hand moved to hold Ona’s waist, steadying her as she began to move again, the rhythm of their bodies syncing naturally. Ona couldn’t think straight anymore; every thought, every sensation, every ounce of her focus was on the way Lucy’s fingers filled her, stroked her, the slow, steady pressure making her moan softly against Lucy’s skin.

Lucy swallowed hard, her breathing shallow as she pressed her fingers deeper. “You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Ona could barely respond, her body taking over, grinding against Lucy’s hand as the pleasure built steadily inside her. She clung to Lucy’s shoulders, nails digging in slightly as her hips moved instinctively, chasing the feeling she’d been longing for. The sound of Lucy’s breathing, ragged and heavy in her ear, only made her want more.

Ona’s lips found Lucy’s neck again, placing soft, messy kisses as she let herself get lost in the sensations. The way Lucy’s fingers moved inside her, the way her body responded to every touch, every thrust. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

“Lucy…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her body tensed, trembling with the pressure that was building, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Lucy responded by curling her fingers, hitting that perfect spot inside her. With a few more minutes Ona’s world exploded in a rush of pleasure. She moaned loudly, burying her face in Lucy’s neck as her body shook with the force of her release, her hips stuttering as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

For a moment, everything was hazy, nothing but the sound of their breathing and the pounding of Ona’s heart in her ears.

Slowly, she came down from the high, her body still trembling slightly as she collapsed against Lucy, exhausted but satisfied. Lucy carefully laid back down on her back, her arms wrapped around Ona, holding her close, her fingers now gently tracing soothing patterns on Ona’s back.

Ona smiled weakly, her face still pressed into Lucy’s neck. “You’re... good at that,” she whispered, her voice soft and breathless, still trying to process everything that had just happened, her body still humming from the intensity of it all.

Lucy chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through her chest and into Ona. “Thank you,” she murmured, her tone light but warm.

Ona hesitated, feeling a wave of shyness wash over her. She leaned back slightly, her eyes meeting Lucy’s. “I-I’m sorry about that,” she stammered, her confidence shaken by the vulnerability of the moment.

“Why?” Lucy frowned, confused for a second, before her expression dropped, a hint of worry crossing her face. “Oh... regret? You regret doing this with me?” she asked softly, her voice suddenly uncertain.

“No, no!” Ona rushed to clarify, her heart clenching at the thought of Lucy misunderstanding. She reached out, her hands resting on Lucy’s shoulders as she tried to make her feelings clear. “I really liked this. I think you’re so hot. I’m just... I’m sorry if it felt like I used you?” Her voice faltered, uncertainty creeping in as she struggled to find the right words.

Lucy’s chuckle was soft but reassuring as she reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Ona’s flushed face. “Used me?” she echoed with a smile. “You gave me more than enough chances to back out. No, trust me, this was really fucking hot. I liked it,” she added, her tone playful yet sincere, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Ona felt her cheeks warm even more, the relief flooding through her. She leaned forward again, resting her forehead against Lucy’s collarbone, breathing in the steady rhythm of Lucy’s heartbeat. “I have to confess something,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Lucy chuckled again, the sound deep and teasing. “You’ve always wanted to sleep with me, haven’t you?” she teased, her fingers gently tracing the back of Ona’s neck.

Ona’s face grew even warmer, and she leaned back just enough to meet Lucy’s gaze, eyes wide with embarrassment, but also a hint of playful defiance. “What if that was the case?” she mumbled, a half-smile playing at her lips.

Lucy, who had been chuckling until then, paused, narrowing her eyes at Ona with playful suspicion. But her expression softened again quickly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Really?”

“Maybe,” Ona said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. “Depends if you’d be into that.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “I think it’s cute,” she said, her hand cupping Ona’s chin gently, her thumb brushing over Ona’s cheek.

Ona swallowed hard, her gaze flickering down to where Lucy’s arm flexed subtly in front of her. She traced the curve of Lucy’s bicep with her eyes, suddenly aware of the depth of her attraction—how much she had always wanted her.

“I think you’re really hot,” she confessed quietly, her voice soft, almost shy. Her fingers traced the edge of Lucy’s arm, hesitant but drawn to the warmth of her skin.

Lucy’s teasing smile softened at Ona’s words. Her hand, still gently holding Ona’s chin, tilted her face up until their eyes met again. The playful banter they often shared seemed to fade, replaced by something deeper, more sincere.

“Well,” Lucy murmured, leaning closer until her lips barely brushed against Ona’s, “I think I can live with that.” She chuckled lightly, her voice a little lower. “And, for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.”

Ona’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade, the tension between them shifting into something more intimate. Before she could stop herself, a question slipped out. “How many…?” She trailed off, immediately shaking her head, embarrassed. “Never mind, sorry.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed slightly, amused. “You really need to learn to say what’s on your mind.”

“Huh?” Ona asked, tilting her head slightly.

“I mean,” Lucy said softly, her hand moving in gentle circles along Ona’s back beneath her shirt, “you don’t have to hold back with me. Say what you want. Don’t be afraid.”

Ona chuckled nervously, burying her face briefly against Lucy’s neck before she whispered, “How many people have you… slept with?”

‘’Huh.’’ Lucy raised her eyebrows but smiled. “Is that really something you want to know?”

Ona nodded, still feeling the warmth of her blush. “Only if you’re okay with telling me.”

Lucy paused for a moment, her fingers still tracing slow, comforting patterns on Ona’s back. “Six people,” she said simply.

Ona blinked, processing it, then asked softly, “Am I the sixth?”

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “No, we haven’t slept together yet.”

Ona looked at her, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”

Lucy grinned, leaning in to kiss Ona’s forehead lightly. “I’d say we’ve fooled around a bit.’’ She chuckled, ‘’Sleeping with me, that’s a whole different thing, trust me,” she teased, her voice dropping to a playful whisper, “it would be way better then this.”

Ona laughed, her earlier nerves dissolving into the ease of Lucy’s words. “Is that a promise, Bronzey?” She said, her voice flirty.

Lucy smirked, her thumb brushing lightly over Ona’s cheek. “Mhm, it can be.’’

[gguk-n]

Overtaking Hearts (Kim Seokjin x Lando Norri's Race Engineer!Reader)

Series Masterlist

May was a good month for Y/N for multiple reasons. Reason number 1 being her driver getting his first win of his career with her help and reason number 2 being her boyfriend was being discharged from his mandatory military enlistment next month. She couldn't have asked for a better time.

Y/N had been a race engineer at McLaren for years now, she had always been Lando's main race engineer since he started in Formula One. She took great pride in her work and the fact that her first driver had finally won his first race, called for celebrations.

They were at the club, drinking the night away; enjoying their celebrations. But Lando had this nagging feeling, he knew everyone's attention was on him, he was the man of the hour but Y/N was easily distracted. He saw her excuse herself and leave the room to find a quite place to talk to someone on the phone with a small smile playing on her lips. Lando knew who it was, it was her boyfriend Kim Seokjin. He was currently serving in the South Korean military and was a member of the biggest K-Pop group, BTS. The pair had been dating since Lando started in Formula One or longer, Y/N would never tell, he had made the assumption on the longevity of their relationship.

No one knew she was dating him because of the hate she might get once they find out he's dating someone. The pair were quite people who enjoyed staying home. Lando had found out when he had heard her on call with him and pestered her about it for days before she cracked and told him but made him promise to never tell anyone.

At this point, there was an ongoing joke in the garage that Y/N didn't want to date, so she made up a lie about having a boyfriend since she wouldn't tell who he was nor introduce him to them. But Lando knew and he knew the implications she would have to face if it came out. That's why he hoped, a small evil part of him did anyways, that they would break up. Would this make Lando a bad person? Probably but he was sure he could protect her from all the hate and that they would live happily ever after since Lando had been in love with her since he joined McLaren's junior programme. She had started working there a little while before Lando had joined, so they had bonded together on being newbies and that's how their friendship had blossomed.

Lando was a simple man, he wanted to make Y/N happy and he would do anything to make that happen. He would push himself harder in races to get her to praise him, get her coffee or snacks to hear her thank him after a long day's of work. Lando's world revolved around Y/N but her's revolved around her boyfriend.

When Y/N had told him that her boyfriend would be enlisting, Lando had hoped they would break up. That this would be the final driving force that would force them apart; but he was wrong. They made it work, like they always had. It never affected her work and now the result was there. Lando had won his first race.

Y/N had taken a few days off before the triple header to visit her boyfriend. Lando had tried his best to stop her from leaving, but he had no plausible reason to stop her.

She had come back for the triple header with a skip in her step and an infectious smile. Lando guessed everything was great.

Lando went on to 2 more races after that, he would look for Y/N to celebrate his win but as soon as the formalities and the podium champagne spray were done, she would be gone with her phone attached to her ear. A part of his heart would slowly chip away.

After the Singapore celebrations, was the first time Y/N stayed for longer. Not running away to call her boyfriend. "I thought you'd be gone by now" Lando tried to joke. "yeah, well, he's in Singapore" she said. "Oh" Lando mumbled. "Congratulations again. I know you probably wanna celebrate with your friends but would you be free to have lunch with us?" she asked playing with her fingers. "Us?" he asked. "Yeah, you're my driver and we've won 3 races together. Seokjin was hoping to treat you to a meal as a celebration" she explained. "yeah, sure." Lando sighed. "You don't have to if you don't" she suggested. "No, no, you've helped me so much this season. I would love to join you both" Lando agreed. Lando had to grow up and had to move on.

They had lunch at the hotel Lando was staying at. The place was secluded and they had all the privacy they could ask for. Y/N was sat next to Seokjin her hand holding his as they faced Lando. Lando had greeted him with a hug, he could see why they were together for so long, they blend well together like 2 peas in a pod.

"Congratulations" Seokjin said while they waited for their meal. "My english is not so good, so Y/N will translate some times" he explained. "Oh, no problem." Lando smiled. "She talks a lot about you" Lando laughed. Seokjin smiled awkwardly while Y/N blushed. "She talks about you a lot too, your her favourite driver" Seokjin said. "I'm her only driver" Lando laughed.

As the dinner went on, Lando saw it, the soft touches, the glances and the smiles. He knew than that they loved each other and his little crush was just an infatuation he would have to rid himself off, unless he wanted to lose his talented race engineer.

Y/N and Seokjin walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, smiling and laughing about something the other whispered in each other's ear. Y/N sneaking small kisses against Seokjin's hand, cheek or shoulder; a blush creeping up onto their faces.

Maybe Y/N couldn't tell the world that Seokjin was hers, but she would gladly wait for the day she could, since right now Seokjin was her world and he knew how much she loved him and she knew how much he loved her.

"That was fun" Seokjin said. "I'm glad you had fun" Y/N added. "He reminds me of Jungkook with his childish behaviour" Seokjin thought out loud. "Our dynamic is like yours and Jungkook's, actually" she laughed. "Than he must be a handful" Seokjin smiled. "yeah, but he has a great heart and I'm not sure I can deal with anyone but him at this point" Y/N said. Seokjin smiling pressed a kiss on her lips, "I love you even though we barely get to spend time together" he said. "I love you too and I enjoy the time we have so don't demean it" she smiled back.