So Cute 🥰🥰

Luv the pettiness of this ❤️

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Last Christmas

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: ex!lando norris x fem!reader x oscar piastri

♥ synopsis: last christmas was vulnerable. even more so after you opened up to your best friend lando and him comforting you turned into his confession of love... but the next morning a picture of his girlfriend—whom he never told you about, was the first thing you saw. out of what you'd call destiny, you befriend the two people he's closest too: his teammate and his new girlfriend.

♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: lando is a bit of a dick in this but it’s only bc its important for the plot lmao! <3

-Christmas Eve, 2023-

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by carmenmundt, georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and more

yourusername when you’re insecure could be me could be her, you just run to whoever is winning 

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user1 alright who broke our girl’s heart

user2 i’ll break his face

alexandrasaintmleux 🫂

lilymhe love you 🫶 call me whenever you need 

iamrebeccad we’re here for you ❤️

user3 guys WHAT HAPPENED 😭

user4 @/user3 whatever it was is clearly huge because all of the wags are here

user5 oh so this person SUCKS sucks

user6 the sabrina lyrics

user8 SAID THAT IT WAS ME AND YOU FOR LIFE !!

user9 NOW YOURE KINDA ACTIN LIKE I DIED!!

user10 my wife is getting her heart broken by a man 😞

user11 not the mascara running girl he didn't deserve you anyway whoever he was

carmenmundt if you need anything I'll always be here <3

yourusername ty carmen 💋

user12 i know lando just hard launched his girlfriend but i hope he’s still able to be there for yn 😓

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,019,943 more

mclaren who’s ready for bahrain?

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iamimogen me !

♡ by landonorris

yourusername i’ll be there as always <3

oscarpiastri it’s been a while! can’t wait to see you again

user1 awww osc

mclaren what oscar said!!

blondie_wdj @/yourusername you’re always welcome in the garage

user2 being best friends with a driver means your also best friends with his engineer

blondie_wdj @/user2 so true

user3 i can’t wait to see lando’s gf in the paddock

user5 and her and y/n to be friends

user6 I hope there's no tension between them

user7 @/user6 lets not pit women against each other before they've even met !!

user9 where's yn's man

yourusername no idea 😔

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, and 130,583 more

yourusername after party

tagged; @/oscarpiastri

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user1 STOP is that imogen?

user2 she’s so hot i fear 🫣

oscarpiastri finally made it onto your ig 🙏 I used to dream of days like this

yourusername you are now one of my elite employees

user8 the way lando isn't even in the pictures lmaooo

yourusername @/user8 he wasn't approved by the council

user3 so here for ynoscar tbh

user4 that's what I've been SAYING

user5 so glad lando has a gf so yall finally stop shipping her w him and let the oscarinas have something

iamimogen great to meet you 💕

♡ by yourusername

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Time Skip-

liked by iamimogen, user2, user8, and more

f1gossip y/n and imogen were spotted hanging out all night after the monaco grand prix. could this be the beginning of a new friendship?

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user1 I BEG YOUR FINEST PAEDON?!

user4 they're so fucking cute oh my god

user2 i love it when the girl bsf and gf are besties 🥹

user9 it's mr steal your girl

user8 Imogen break up with your boyfriend ‼️

user7 yn lando Imogen poly when

...comments have now been disabled

-Hungarian Grand Prix-

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and 495,603 more

yourusername BUDAPEST, HUNGARY 📍

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user1 @/oscarpiastri again

user2 how did you recognize him by just his back? 😭

user3 crying because why is yn posting oscar more than lando posts his girlfriend

user4 RIGHT? I don't think I've seen her once on his main or jpg but Imogen posts him all the time :/

user5 its kind of weird since lando used to post dozens of pictures of yn

user6 anyone else notice that he hasn't liked or commented on any of yn's posts in months or am I insane?

user5 @/user6 YES I HAVE

user8 guys I think they went through a friendship break up or something

user4 @/user8 do you think its because of Imogen?

user8 @/user4 maybe

user6 @/user4 I don't think so since yn is with her all the time. I just haven't seen yn talk to lando publicly since last year

mclaren it's always nice to see you!

yourusername valid: all days paddock pass when?

mclaren 👀

user9 hungary is such a random race to go to lol

user10 she's mclaren's good luck charm trust

liked by oscarpiastri, iamimogen, mclaren, and 100,894 more

yourusername YESSSSiogvdrs;okfeLI

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user1 SHES SO US

user7 SCREAMING

user3 ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE FACT THEY LET YN STAND DOWN THERE

user2 honorary wag !!

user4 oh the sheer amount of pictures she took of him

user5 that's a proud girlfriend if I've ever seen one

user6 she didn't even greet lando...

user10 she was probably caught up in the moment

user6 @/user10 me when I lie

user10 HELPPP 😭 I don't want to admit her and lando aren't hanging out anymore... they were literally best friends

user9 lets focus on the positives: oscar won and he's 100% into yn

-F1 Winter Break-

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 403,859 more

iamimogen loving winter 🤍

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user1 she’s SO gorgeous

yourusername the prettiest

iamimogen @/yourusername no you!!

user2 stop i still love that her and yn get along 🥹

user3 right they’re so sweet

landonorris ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux stunning

iamimogen 💋

francisca.cgomes hottie

iamimogen love you 😘

liked by yourusername, landnonorris, lilyzneimer, and 203,586 more

iamimogen I'm dreaming of a pink christmas

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user1 lando you need to step up your game

user2 him STILL not posting pictures about her is crazy...

user3 EXACTLY

user4 the way they've been publicly a couple for a year 💀

user7 pink pilates princess core

iamimogen you know it

user12 I feel like I'm the only one who thinks her and lando are cute 😭

user6 no they're cute there's just something... off?

user10 @/user6 exactly. I love them but what the fuck is going on with them and yn

user9 the only place were gonna find lando and yn together these days is Imogen's likes

user5 LMAO

liked by oscarpiastri, iamimogen, francisca.cgomes, and 295,057 more

yourusername photo dump 🩰🎀

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user20 @/iamimogen not yn copying you 💀

yourusername omg i had no idea she invented the color pink. @/iamimogen i’m so sorry queen i had no idea 🫶

iamimogen @/yourusername that’s ok just make sure to give creds next time ❤️

user1 PLSSS they’re so unserious

user2 im obsessed with their friendship wait 

user3 they’re so fucking funny

user4 OSCYN HARD LAUNCH I REPEAT OSCYN HARD LAUNCH

user5 oh I fucking knew it

user6 its a christmas miracle

liked by oscarpiastri, iamimogen, lilymhe, and 948,840 more

yourusername stole your boy and your girl

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user1 THE GASP I GUSPT

user4 jaw is on the floor.

user3 LEAVING THE COMMENTS ON IS CRAZYYY

user5 what a bad bitch move

user7 SHUT UPPPP

user6 so this all WAS about lando?! I'm genuinely so curious now I need to know what he did!?!?!?

user8 oh my god yn is my favorite person

user9 y'all remember that post of her like sobbing last year? was that about lando...?

user10 FUCK OFF IMAGINE IT IS

user12 begging for a story time

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: i’m really fighting my demons (the urge to make a part two where yn ends up with imogen…) anyways I'm back with super late christmas fics haha !! they'll all be posted out of order from now on lmao

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

This has a sweet ending 🥰

Romeo and Juliet - Part 2

Lando Norris X Ferarri Driver!Reader

Y/N is a powerhouse driver in F1, an icon dressed in Ferarri red. So when a driver in blue (and orange) has eyes for her, how will she react? How will the public react? With twists and turns and ships, how will this story end, let's hope not how the original story ends.

Part one

Masterlist / TipJar

ynusername

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and 453,772 others

ynusername one more year done, many more to come. Thank you to my friends and family for a lovely evening xx

view all 12,548 others

user1 Happy 25th lovely!

scuderiaferarri Happy birthday to our principessa

ynusername Thank you my lovely team

charlesleclerc A lovely evening, me and my love where incredible grateful for the invite. I hope you loved our gift

ynusername It was a puppy! charlesleclerc A friend for Leo!

landonorris Thank you for letting me tag along good looking

ynusername You are most welcome x user2 You can't tell me they aren't dating user3 Isn't she dating Lewis Hamilton user4 Not confirmed

lewishamilton Happy birthday girly

liked by ynusername user5 why can't they be together ! They would be so hot !

landonorris

liked by ynusername, charlesleclerc, georgerussell and 363,362 others

landonorris Birthday celebrations for the best (only) girl on the grid

view all 5,236 comments

user6 Goddamn he's hot

georgerussell Cropped me out of the photo wow

landonorris Gotta keep in the money maker liked by ynusername georgerussell Harsh ! hah user7 Y/N liked that...

ynusername Glad you had a fun time

landonorris Of course

lewishamilton Nice photos Lando

user8 I want my parents together

ynusername

liked by ynusername, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, 603,983 others

ynusername Canada is so kind. Let it be kind on the track

view all 6,397 comments

user9 Oh Canada!!

landonorris I hope you win, not, really I hope I win (I hope you do well)

ynusername Wow, thank you ? liked by landonorris

scuderiaferarri Picturing podiums as part of the process

ynusername Always. Always. user10 Ferarri fan for life

charlesleclerc I see us win (where is Leo's pal?)

ynusername Vettel is sleeping back home at Monaco user11 The puppy is called Vettel! landonorris Vettel is so cute liked by ynusername

user12 Any updates about Lewis

user13 I don't believe the rumours personally user14 I think they are slow soft launching user15 No I like her with Lando more user16 She's allowed not to have anyone

f1news

liked by 7,962 users

f1news Snippets from Lewis Hamilton most recent interview. He speaks so highly about Y/N, it’s adorable. People are focusing on the final clip from the interview where he dodges a question about Y/N and him by calling her a “completely breathtaking” girl. Are they not together?

view all 488 comments

user17 Sir Lewis Hamilton is delicious, downright edible

user18 How is he not in love with her? He sounds it

user19 I’m holding out for Lando they have a much better chemistry recently user18 and your evidence for that is a couple interactions in comment sections and in the paddock user19 That's the same evidence we have for Lewis x Y/N aside from this

landonorris

liked by ynusername, georgerussell, charlesleclerc and 438,627 others

landonorris Disappointing DNF for us today, but relaxing with the best person

view all 8,300 comments

georgerussell Sorry about you DNF mate, happy to see you happy

landonorris I am very

user20 I bet that's Y/N

user21 It better not be, Y/N should be with Lewis user22 Lando doesn't deserve her user23 We don't know if it is

user24 Aww this is so cute

mclaren Spain next Lando!

landonorris Onwards and Upwards liked by ynusername

ynusersame <3

liked by landonorris user25 Guys It must be her user26 She commented the same hearts on Lewis' soft launch user27 Y/N x Lewis superiority user28 Awwww

ynusername

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, carlossainzjr, and 698,253 others

ynusername @.landonorris <3

view all 7,607 comments

lewishamilton Happy for you kid

user29 He's happy for her, my heart ! user30 Lewis >>> Lando user31 STFU xx

landonorris Sunshine <3

user32 I'm dead, bury me 6 foot deep user33 PR stunt, it cannot be a real relationship user33 She is probably moving to McLaren user34 That makes no sense

scuderiaferrari A beautiful couple

liked by mclaren

charlesleclerc Gross take it off my feed

charlesleclerc Happy you two came to your senses ynusername What do you mean? charlesleclerc You two were gushing over each other behind each others back user35 Adorable user36 I want to be adopted

user37 This is upsetting and gross, they aren't good together

landonorris

liked by ynusername, charlesleclerc, georgerussell, and 403,639 others

landonorris Summer break with puppy cuddles

view all 4,398 comments

ynusername Give my Vettel baby back

landonorris You are confused that is my puppy ynusername I know where you live landonorris 😏 user38 Gag (Cute)

user39 Sickly sweet, I love it

georgerussell Too close for my liking children

ynusername Sorry dad, we will kiss in private georgerussell Good, daughter landonorris What the fuck is this ynusername Parenting 101 user40 HHAHAH WTF

user41 PR stunt

user42 I bet that's not her and she's dating Lewis

user42 They are a hotter cuter couple user43 Please get your head out of the grimy gutter liked by ynusername

f1news

liked by 1,353 users

f1news Sending our love and congratulations to Y/N L/N as she wins her first world championship with Ferarri. After a tight season against Max Verstappen, she wins by a 10-point lead. Her maiden championship, and I only see more for our queen.

view all 306 comments

user44 OUR Y/N, THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP WINNER

user45 Is she with Lando?

user46 She just won the entire year and all you can care about is her love life, leave it alone

user47 FERRARI

user48 The only true icon is red

user48 Ferarri red user49 Queen!

landonorris

liked by ynusername, lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, and 434,236 others

landonorris My sunshine, I have loved you since we were in F2 and you were the kinda scary but amazing driver who was winning races, but wouldn't give me the time of day. I later learnt you were told some incorrect things about me that built your walls up. After a racing incident in F1 years later, you heard me out, and here we are. Young, in love, a race winner and a world championship winner.

We've been through a lot already but I will always be by your side for eternity. I will love you forever my sunshine.

view all 6,380 comments

ynusername My cutie xx

user50 CuTiE ?!?!? landonorris Love you forever liked by ynusername

lewishamilton You two have my heart

landonorris How's your wife? lewishamilton She's brilliant, we will have you around soon ynusername Please, you've been keeping her from me lewishamilton Wow, just because you introduced us ynusername YES liked by landonorris

user51 My standards have boomed

charlesleclerc My non-bio sister and her tramp aww

landonorris Dude wtf ynusername What, its accurate x user52 Charles popping out to throw some shade at Lando user53 I love it

mclaren Beautiful couple

(a/n Ah, so this is done, I may revisit this world later in life but for now, read away. I was quite happy with this one, I think i have better ones coming for lando and other drivers but this is still brilliant. I hope you all like it x)

(taglist: @moonylightmoon @smw-96 @formulaal @fall-bambi @erin-odonnell04 @wondergirl101ks @chaoticmessneutralplease @hwalllllllelujah )

Why is this pretty sad 😥 and written pretty good

I think I've seen this film before - ron weasley, family!sirius black

summary: when sirius found out that bellatrix lestrange was having a daughter, he did everything in his power to protect her. he never met her until one day she showed up at his doorstep the same way he had at the potters. wc: 1.3k+

Sirius had seen this film before. Or rather, he had lived through it. A hesitant figure in the doorway, standing in the freezing cold with dried blood coating their clothes.

Despite your injured and tired state, having run for miles without stopping — too afraid to stop, never stopping — you were hesitant that your promised safe haven wouldn’t welcome you.

Sirius recognised you by your hair. It had always been a staple in the family. He had it, so did his brother and his cousins. Your mother’s cousin had never met you, but from the moment you were born, he knew you were another victim of the Black family. He looked at your destructed state: dead eyes with tear stained cheeks, face painted with exhaustion, expensive gown torn and dirty in areas from the way you’d run through the woods, losing your unconventional heels in the process.

Sirius was glad he sent you those letters. One letter a month during all twelve years of his stay in azkaban sent to you with a single address “N°12 Grimmauld Place”, just in case you needed it, and finally, you took his silent advice. It was worth it, and seeing you now, Sirius knew that he hadn't wasted his only permitted letters out of the prison. Sirius moved out of the doorway, the air knocked out of his chest at the sight of you; he was literally looking back at himself. You stepped inside, tears silently running down your face, the lack of expression on your features worrying Sirius as he caught sight of your bloody feet, cut up by rocks and twigs, painted with mud.

You froze in the entryway at the sound of loud voices down the hall, shoulders tensing up. Sirius sighed.

Unfortunately for you, you had an audience.

“Sirius, who is it?” A familiar voice called out, footsteps following her words, and you immediately spun around, ready to walk back out of the house, but Sirius gently caught you by the arms, a reassuring look on his face. Sirius let go of you, nodding his head towards the inside of the house. When you turned around, you met Professor McGonagall’s worried gaze. The woman stood in front of you with an anxious expression, her arms uncrossing in front of her to put a comforting arm on your shoulder.

In the kitchen, the Order of the Phoenix meeting came to a stop, all the adults keeping an ear out for any commotion happening, revealing hints of the narrative outside. You winced as you stepped deeper into the house, the adrenaline that had allowed you to travel so far now wearing off, causing you to feel the consequences of your escape. Sirius didn’t ask you what happened, only sitting you down in the living room and letting you embrace the silence.

Sirius hesitated.

When he had run away to the Potters, he was held. Held as he cried, held as he shared his story. Held even as the Potters healed him. But Sirius didn’t know if he should hold you. After all, Sirius had never even met you.

But as the silence was interrupted, loud voices breaking the tension in the room, your eyes finally left the floor, a look of panic settling on your face as you recognised the familiar instrument of your boyfriend's voice. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, quickly looking at the teenagers exchanging jokes as they rushed down the staircase. Sirius made an uncomfortable noise in his throat, but McGonagall was quickly taking care of it, approaching the teenagers and spreading her arms wide to stop them from entering the living room. All the jokes immediately subsided, and Sirius instantly assumed that the deputy headmistress held her signature glare.

Sirius looked back at you, watching as the tears sped down your cheeks, your face finally projecting all the different emotions you’d felt all night as you caught sight of the person whose comfort you so desperately sought. Finally, a loud sob wracked your chest, and Sirius felt his own lungs constricting him from taking a deep breath. “Mr. Weasley, give her some space!” professor McGonagall’s words died down as Ron Weasley pushed past her, speeding his pace up to run up to you, immediately falling to his knees in front of you when he reached you.

“Sweetheart?”

Sirius’s head snapped towards McGonagall as Ron uttered those words, eyes going wide in shock. He felt like he was going to throw up, watching Ron eagerly push himself up to sit on the couch next to you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you closer to him.

You desperately clung onto Ron, gripping his jumper as you sobbed into his chest, hiding your face from him and the rest of your audience. Professor McGonagall ushered the watchful teenagers into the kitchen with the rest of the Order members, leaving you alone with your boyfriend and Sirius. Sirius stood up on shaky legs, walking to stand near the exit of the room. He didn’t want to leave the two of you alone in case something happened, but he wanted to give you the impression of privacy. “My love,” Ron muttered into your hair, voice shaking, caressing a hand over your back to soothe you. “Do you want to talk about it?” You didn’t reply, pulling away to wipe your cheeks aggressively before wincing at your own force, a familiar ache from the building bruise on your face.

“I, she-” You were interrupted by your own hiccup. “They tried making get the dark mark. I couldn't-” Ron swallowed thickly as you cut yourself off with a heartbreaking sob. You had given him little enough explanation to leave your punishment open to the imagination, but if it was rough enough to finally drive you away from your abusive home, he knew it had to be bad.

Ron had seen you come back to Hogwarts after holidays in the past, wearing heavier makeup than usual. He’d always think you looked gorgeous, ready to kiss the makeup off your skin, before remembering the occasions on which you’d wear such a mask. He’d come into your room, searching for kisses from his girlfriend to find you bear-faced, bruises littered across your skin. Over the next year, he’d learned not to say anything, instead pressing soft kisses on your skin, his arms wrapped around you as you laid in bed, serenading you into the first comfortable sleep you’d had in weeks.

Now, holding you in his arms as you sobbed, Ron wasn’t sure he’d be capable of lulling you into any kind of sleep. You never entertained the idea of running away, of breaking away from the dark side. But you had seen your opportunity for a better life, and took it. After all, your whole family would be distracted at tonight's gala with all the guests, and you had slipped away after all the introductions.

They wouldn't notice your absence for hours.

Ron loosened his arms from around your torso as you tried pulling away from him, looking straight at him with a melancholic look on your face, as though taking in every single one of his handsome features. You used your grip on Ron’s jumper to pull him closer to you, locking lips with him. You sighed in satisfaction, leaning into Ron’s touch as he cupped one of your cheeks, pulling away and mumbling “Lets get you changed, yeah?” You nodded wordlessly, letting Ron firmly wrap an arm around your waist to help you limp across the room, pausing in the doorway as your eyes lingered on Sirius, offering him a silent ‘thank you’ as your eyes watered gratefully.

“Welcome home.” Sirius muttered to you quietly, and you finally turned away from him for Ron to help you up the stairs. He shut the door behind you, running his hands down your back before reaching for the zipper of your dress and tugging down slightly. “Can I?” You nodded, holding your dress to your chest as Ron undid your zipper, disappearing into the bathroom to fetch you a towel. You wrapped the towel around your body, letting your dress fall to the floor as you followed Ron back into the bathroom. Your boyfriend averted his gaze as you unravelled the towel from your body, stepping into the bathtub and letting the tub fill up with water, the warm liquid engulfing your body. Ron sat on the floor on the other side of the tub, one hand caressing your frizzy hair, but he didn’t seem to mind, mumbling words like “You’re safe here” and “I love you so much.” It was only as you were finally dozing off that you heard Ron mutter. “Come on sweetheart, don’t want you to get sick.”

Half-asleep, you wore the clothes Ron gave you, climbing into the mysterious bed with him by your side and falling into a gentle sleep, the worried furrow between your brow never subsiding. When Sirius finally gathered the courage to come upstairs and knock on the door, he found you with Ron carefully holding your arm up, running his fingers over the scabs that would leave a scar on your arm with the word ‘traitor’ etched into your skin.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes

Adorable ending 💜💛💚

Idk if anyone did this one but I loved yours but can you do a “we listen and we don't judge” with CL16 who has an influencer/TikTok gf

we listen and we don't judge - CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: yn and charles do the popular tiktok trend where they confess secrets to each other, "judgement free." [its the same summary as the lando one, pls don't kill me 😪]

MASTERLIST

Charles was no stranger to TikTok. He wasn't obsessed with it like some of the people around him, but he went on it every now and then—enough to keep up with some of the trends.

He was aware of the "we listen and we don't judge" trend. He saw a couple videos, Lando and his girlfriend's included.

So when his girlfriend asked him to take part in the trend, it didn't take much for him to be convinced.

Y/N and Charles came up with their confessions during dinner. There were occasional laughs from one of them, causing the other to grow curious and eager for them to share.

When they were both done, they moved to the couch and Y/N set her phone up in front of them.

"We listen and we don't judge," they say in unison.

They agreed that Y/N would go first.

"When you wake up late, I pretend I just woke up too so you don't get mad I let you oversleep."

"You let me oversleep?!" he gasps.

"I mean I try and shake you awake but you're a deep sleeper," she says, laughing.

"We listen and we don't judge."

"When I say 'Oh, I didn't see your text,' I just didn't feel like replying yet." "Oh, my...Charles!" she says, laughing.

"In my defense, I do it to everyone, not just you," he says, trying to save himself.

"We listen and we don't judge."

"When you're mad or frustrated, I ask if you're hungry to distract you."

Charles starts cackling.

"It works every time," he admits in realization.

"We listen and we don't judge."

“Sometimes, if we’re arguing and I realize you’re right, I’ll keep going just because I don’t want to lose.”

"Charles! That's kinda toxic," she gasps.

"I don't do it for the serious stuff! Just the silly, little fights," he tells her.

"We listen and we don't judge."

"If you ask me what I want to eat and I say ‘surprise me,’ I have a very specific meal in mind and will be disappointed if you guess wrong."

"Yeah, I think in the back of my head I always knew that," Charles says.

"We listen and we don't judge."

"Sometimes I use your little towels to dry my hands," he reveals.

"My face towels?" she shrieks. "Charles! That's disgusting, I wash my face with those."

"We listen and we don't judge," Charles says by himself this time.

"Remember that sim race a couple years ago against Max and a couple of your friends? Max paid me to unplug the rig if you were beating him." Charles' jaw drops dramatically, the smile gone from his face.

"You told me the power went out! Max still holds that over my head!"

He stands with his hands behind his head. Y/N moves the camera to capture his shock.

"I have to call him," he says, pulling out his phone. "That little shit."

The sound of the dial tone ringing and Y/N's giggles fill the room.

"Why would you listen to him?" he asks her, hysterically.

"Oop, gotta go guys," she ends the video.

She puts her phone down and covers her mouth to conceal her smile.

Charles stares at his phone, pacing back and forth as it rings. Y/N watches, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"Max," Charles says the second the line connects. "Did you pay my girlfriend to sabotage me in that sim race?"

There’s a pause, then Max’s laughter crackles through the speaker. “Oh, she finally told you? I thought she’d take that secret to the grave.”

Y/N lets out a snort, which only fuels Charles' disbelief. “You think this is funny? I lost!"

"You were gonna lose anyway," Max says, smug.

"I was ahead!"

"For, like, five laps."

"I cannot believe this! You betrayed me," he says pointing to Y/N.

"And you," Charles turns back to his phone, voice rising in indignation, "are a dirty cheater, Verstappen."

Max just laughs. "Oh, come on, mate. It was harmless fun. Besides, Y/N was surprisingly easy to convince."

Charles turns to Y/N, eyes narrowing. "How much did he pay you?"

Y/N presses her lips together, hesitating. "...Enough."

Charles scoffs. "Enough?"

Max hums in approval. “See, she knows the value of a good business deal. I respect it.”

Y/N shrugs. "In my defense, I was young and impressionable."

"It was two years ago," Charles deadpans.

Y/N winces. "Yeah, but in relationship years, that’s, like...forever ago."

Charles groans, dropping onto the couch like he's just been stabbed. "I need new friends. And a new—"

Y/N cuts him off with a kiss to his cheek. “Careful, chéri, you don’t want me taking another offer.”

Charles' eyes widen. "Max."

Max cackles. "Relax, mate. But, uh…if she ever wants to switch teams, my DMs are open.”

Charles hangs up instantly, glaring at Y/N, who’s now doubled over in laughter.

“You’re both evil.”

She grins, poking his side. “But you love me.”

Charles groans dramatically, flopping onto her lap. “Unfortunately.”

Crush

1994!Kai x Witch!reader

content warnings/tags ~ Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, dubcon, smut, bully!mean!Kai, first kiss, fingering, teasing, vulgarity, innocent!shy!reader, corruption, angst if your squint hard...

wc: 3k

K.P. Masterlist

You closed your books and moved to file them away in your bag after your weekly tutoring session had wrapped for the day. 

“So.. I was thinking about going down to the pier this friday—you know, arcade.. pizza.. that sort of thing..” The younger brother’s sheepish attempts to ask you out went unnoticed as your senses honed onto one thing and one thing alone: Malachai Parker. His spiced mahogany musk wafts past your nose as a calling card before the man himself stepped into the kitchen. You can’t bring yourself to look directly at him unless you can play it off as innocent curiosity, so it was mostly from your peripheral view that you caught the way his gray eyes shifted to blue in the most ideal of lighting, the way his fingers were almost always adorned with at least a couple chunky rings, his cropped dark hair that was styled lightly with gel. 

He moves to open the fridge and pulls out half a litre of soda, a cold slice of pizza then goes into the cabinet for a box of twinkies and a bag of pork rinds. With his arms full of junk food, he carries the slice of pizza between his teeth and as he turns to depart, your eyes briefly meet before yours dart away into your lap. His audible sneer reaches you as he disappears back into his cave, dragging your dignity away with him.

You’d be mortified if his presence didn’t give you butterflies. It was the first time he ever really acknowledged your existence. Kai usually stayed away, but on the off chance you crossed paths, he never even looked in your direction. It was something you began to internalize after a while, like he must’ve thought you were too much of a goodie goodie, a lame, a narc.

Eye contact, however brief, was a major step up from whatever spirit of awkwardness haunted his first impressions of you. 

It happened when your parents brought you to the Parker household. They were looking for someone to tutor you in spellcasting since—as they put it—your magic was underdeveloped, their delicate way of saying they worried you were a dud—the worst thing you can be in a powerful family of witches. They hoped the natural prowess of one of the Parker kids would rub off on you. Kai came down during the meeting and you moved to introduce yourself but he looked right past you and walked away without a word. Not a moment later, his father formally introduced you to his younger brother Joey, and he became your tutor.

Joey’s glower follows his brother out of the room. 

“He’s so inconsiderate,” he mutters.

“.. completely,” you half-heartedly agree.

“So, back to what I was saying.. do you happen to be free Friday night?” 

“For what?” You ask genuinely.

“... to go to the pier?” 

“Oh, Yeah! Totally free.. I mean, I’d have to ask my parents first, but I’m sure they’ll be okay with it, granted I’m back before curfew..” 

“Awesome! No, yeah. You’ll be back with plenty of time.” He grins like a fool while walking you out.

Your parents adored Joey so it came as no surprise when they said you could go. He was a parent’s dream for their 18 year old daughter, about as straight and narrow as they come with his sweater vests and penchant for punctuality. But nothing could ever make you see him as anything more than a friend, if that—when his brother came around, he was completely invisible to you.

The ever considerate Joey left a message on your answering machine Wednesday night to let you know that your plans fell through because he had a training retreat that weekend with his family. The change of plans didn’t bother you a bit considering he wasn’t the Parker boy you wanted to be spending an evening on the pier with in the first place but since you didn’t hear the message until Friday morning, you had to rush over to the house to drop off the grimoire he let your borrow, hoping you could catch him in time.

You park and ring the doorbell once, then again when no one answers. You’re about to ring it a third time when the door opens.. to the brother you weren’t expecting. Kai was still yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes at 10:30am. His perfect hair a tousled mess of short tresses, pieces stuck to his forehead. You could almost imagine waking up to that.

“Yes..?” his raspy voice, lilt with annoyance, interrupts your mindless gawking.

“Is Joey here?” you pipe up. 

“Nope, just missed him,” he gives a flippant eye roll.

You let out a sigh, “but—I came to give him his spell book.” You try to hand him the heavy grimoire but he steps aside. “I’m not a drop box, just come in and put it in his room.”

Shaking off his rudeness, you come inside. You knew the way to Joey’s room, having often studied in there, with the door open, of course and only on the bean bag chairs. Truly, the only parents you’d ever encountered stricter than yours were theirs—or at least their father. He treated magic study as serious as death, hence why Joey and his other siblings were spending their weekend on a training retreat. All of them except Kai, but Kai was different and no one outside the family understood the details of his.. condition. Not even you.

After placing the grimoire on his desk, you move to head back downstairs to leave, but stop at the door jamb when you hear Kai’s voice. His back to you as he leans against the wall, the phone to his ear. 

“Yeah.. babe.. no.. no.. next time I’ll give you one—yeah—somewhere you can’t cover.. I’d like that.. ” his low voice dripping with vocal fry, lewd words creating a faint throb between your thighs as your nails dug into the old paint on the wall.

“Hey, San-Sandy, I’m gonna call you back.” he hangs the phone on the receiver and slips his address book into his back pocket, likely full of the names and numbers of a roster of different girls he’s seeing. 

“Enjoy that? Hope that gave you enough to flick your bean to tonight..” he snorts. 

“I uh—EXCUSE ME?” you don’t know what to say, feet fixed to the floor as he stalks over to you.

“C’mon, how dumb do you think I am? You don’t think I know that you dig on me?” his eyes cut to you with a taunting edge, drinking in your shrinking flustered form. “Joey’s been trying to ask you out for weeks now, even asked Dad for permission.. but you’re too obsessed with me to notice,” he gives a deep bitter sigh, “Everyone wants what they can’t have.”

“That’s not—” 

“I think it’s kinda cute.. but I prefer a girl with more..” he pauses briefly to think, pushing his lips forward, “.. substance, you know? Don’t get me wrong, you’re not completely unfuckable, but you’re no Pamela Anderson either..” His critical gaze rakes down your body, making you shamefully aware of yourself—you weren’t exactly the picture of sexiness, any semblance of your feminine silhouette swallowed up by your soft knitted sweater.

Satisfied, he spun around to leave you to stew in your humiliation, but you refuse to let him off that easily. 

“You’re such a jerk! No wonder no one wants to be near you!”

He flashes you his middle finger before continuing on his way.

You gasp at his vulgarity as your rage boils over, shouting at him, “Fuck you Malachai!” You stomp toward the stairs but he grabs hold of your arms and pushes against the wall, pinning you with his body.

You take a shallow breath as he mouth comes down, just to ghost above yours, a threatening glint in his stormy blues. 

“Watch your mouth,” he snarls. Everyone knew that Kai hated his birth name, so you decided to hit him where it hurt. 

“You first—” you bite back.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You’re obsessed with me.. and if you shut up right now.. I might just let you kiss me..” he taps his cheek, “here.. or..” he taps his lips, “..right here.” 

Your skin bristles with goosebumps as the heat in your body rises to your ears and you slump against the wall, ducking down to hide your face from him.

“Oh my god, you’ve never been kissed before, have you?” 

You have nothing to say. 

He mutters, “well this just gets better and better.” 

Your frown deepens, “how incredibly presumptuous to think I'd wanna waste my first kiss on a jerk like you.”

His fingers grab hold of your chin, tilting your face to meet his, “because I’m your crush and the fact that I treat you like shit makes you want me even more.. doesn’t it?” you breathe in his words like oxygen before he pressed his lips to yours, letting him deepen it with his tongue, gently coaxing your mouth for access, which you grant willingly, before exploring your mouth.

When he finally withdrew his lips from yours, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. lips parted, you gasped like a fish out of water. 

“How was that?” He shot you a wink before leaving you alone in that hallway.

You’d take any excuse to go back and see him, the man that occupied your waking thoughts and nightly dreams, the feeling of his lips still vivid in your mind after the passing days. You finally get in the car to head over to the Parker residence on Sunday evening, knowing that the family would return on Monday, leaving you with tonight, your last chance to really talk to him and tell him how you feel.

You had to know if it was possible that the kiss meant something to him—that perhaps his knees buckled upon contact the same way yours did, that he felt the same fireworks between you. Or maybe you were just delusional, but your heart couldn’t rest until you knew for sure if there was something there. 

What’s the worst that could happen? 

Your feet carry you from your car to the doorstep before you ring the doorbell. 

He answers on the first, lips curled into a cocky grin when he catches sight of you. 

“Sorry, I don’t want girl scout cookies-” 

“Move—” you brush past him into the house.

“What are you doing here? Came to collect a lock of my hair for your shrine?” 

You willfully ignore his quips and take a deep breath, delicately finding your words, “you kissed me.. last time I was here.” 

“I know, I was there,” he chuckled, “I’m a great kisser so I don’t blame you for coming back for seconds..” You narrow your eyes into slits as he adds, “hey, I’ve been thinking about what you said.. about why people avoid me and why I stay away.. It’s not the reason you think.” 

You cross your arms over your chest and countered with a sour face, “oh, I’m so sure it has nothing to do with your attitude. You think you’re too cool for everyone and everything.” You find yourself becoming frustrated again. Wondering why you let him stir you up like this.

His face fell like a deflated balloon, no sign of that condescending sneer as he grabs you by your elbow, “Whatever—I wouldn’t expect you to understand.. just run on home to mommy and daddy before you miss your curfew and lose your tv privileges,” he pulls you toward the door. 

“Wait!” you snatch your arm back and dig your heels into the floor, “why are you always such a dick to me? I’ve only ever been nice to you!”

“I don’t like nice! I like honest and you haven’t been honest once, not with me.” 

He searches your eyes and you realize that he saw right through you, perhaps more than anyone else. You performed as the perfect daughter, perfect student, ever-improving witch, but you couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes the same as everyone else and that made your hands shake at your sides. You start to feel cornered by him all over again, all alone in that big house with him.

“What do you want me to be honest about?” you sigh.

“Your feelings for me..”

“Alright I like you, okay..”

“Why did you come here today?”

Now is your chance but you clam up, your darting gaze can’t avoid his vibrant blues, “to talk.. about the kiss. I’ve been thinking about it.. and i feel like..” your voice falters as you’re overtaken by your nerves.

“Yes..” he pressed, growing impatient with your shyness.

“..like I want to try it again..” 

He reaches up to cup your cheek, running his thumb along your bottom lip, tugging at it as his gaze flits between your mouth and eyes, “... yeah?”

“.. yeah,” you confirm in a hushed whisper.

His lips consume yours, pulling and sucking on your pillowy pout with more ferver than before as your hands latch onto his shoulders, his hands find your waist. Goosebumps shoot across every corner of your skin, but then a thought occurs to you. You reach out and push at his chest, disconnecting from his lips. 

“What?” 

“This was a bad idea…” 

“Why? Because your parents wouldn’t approve of their precious daughter dating the Parker family screw up?” 

“no..” your faint whisper barely reaches him.

“I’m a magic dud, remember? At least when I date mortals I don’t have to be reminded of that.” 

“No!” you grab onto his collar, pulling him to you, “I don’t care about that.. I just.. don’t want you to break my heart.”

The cold rings of his fingers press into your jaw, “Then don’t give it to me.” He releases you but your eyes don’t move from his as his hand trails down your neck, between your quivering breasts, past your belly button and stopping to finger the waistband of your pleated skirt. “Give me everything else instead..” 

“.. okay..” your voice came out small on trembling vocal cords.

He’s back on you, ripping open the buttons of your cardigan, sliding the material down your arms while bathing your neck in unforgiving kissing and love bites that will blossom into marks you’ll need to cover in powder tomorrow. He nips at that sweet spot just behind your ear and you let out a sound, the likes of which have never escaped your virgin lips.

You slip your hands under his shirt, feeling the definition of his abs before he reaches back to rid himself of the faded band tee entirely. You could sit there and count the freckles on his skin but he’s pulling you into the nearby laundry room and pinning you to the door. The outline of his cock pokes your thigh as you ruin his hair with your fingers. His grip on your thigh keeps your leg up as he spreads you for the exploration of his hands. It all moves so fast it’s overwhelming, but you don’t want it to stop—yet undecided on how far you want to go with him right now in his dark room surrounded by baskets of laundry. What you do know is you want to get lost in the feel of his rough palms, grabbing and squeezing at whatever flesh he gets his hands on, pulling the straps of your tank down to admire your bra—the black push up one you kept in the back of your drawer for ‘emergencies’—even your modest bosom was made to sit beautifully in the lace garment.

His fingers dip into your panties, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves now soaked in your slick as he works you up. Soft pants and moans leaving your parted lips. He spreads your folds apart, rubbing the length of your slit with his ring finger. You breath hitches upon contact with the cold metal of his chunky ring. He consumes the moans that leak from your mouth, leaving your lips red and swollen. 

Lost in the eruption of your passions, you both miss the sound of the minivan pulling to the driveway. It’s only when the front door opens that you realize they came home early. Kai tenses, clasping his hand over your mouth, but he doesn’t stop. You both listen in beyond the door. It sounds like only one person made it inside so far. Kai works two wet fingers into your cunt, the twinge of pain makes your eyes water as your slick walls adjust to the unfamiliar stretch. 

You groan behind his palm and his stern eyes cut to you. “Shh-” 

Joey is just outside the laundry room door when he notices Kai’s t-shirt—something that isn’t out of the ordinary for his slovenly older brother, especially when mom wasn’t home to take care of his laundry—but then he noticed your lavender cardigan. He knew it was yours by the color and if that didn’t give it away, the smell did—just like your perfume. 

Your back trembles against the door. Just the slab of wood separating you from complete exposure. 

Joey’s voice calls out, “I know you’re fucking my brother you slut! When dad finds out you’re dead, Malachai!” he storms back out the front door. 

Kai started laughing and you didn’t know why but you did too. His voice pitched up in a squeak when he got mad and it was hard to take him seriously even though you were caught. 

“I’m telling dad! He’s such a bitch,” Kai mocks, chuckling to himself. 

You hear more voices outside the front door and the horny haze lifts instantly. You push away from him, rushing to readjust your skirt and top before heading into the hall to grab your cardigan. 

“Oh my god… oh my god… oh my god..” you panic.

“Go out the back,” Kai quirks his head in that direction. You pause to study him. He’s so calm. It’s like he’s done this before. The door knob turns and you do as he says, making it out before anyone sees you.

taglist: @daisy-renae @quinsly @trizta @mcookie @loveanndthunderr @thoughts-and-thistles @blackreaderatrisk @sadcupcake (comment or reblog if you want to be included in the taglist & notified of future posts)

Luv of how intentionally petty Rage seems

Never say never || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request I love it!! @ghostlythinggoingaround

Warnings: swearing, sofia is insecure abt herself. other than that, nothing really

Word count: 1,317

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"Who are you looking at?" JJ asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Sofia's intense gaze across the room. His eyes landed on Rafe, who stood by the pool table, exuding his usual air of arrogance. JJ let out a loud sigh and turned back to Sofia, concern etched on his face.

"Sof, you gotta stop," he said, frowning deeply. Sofia looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her hands mechanically wiping the glasses clean behind the bar. "Stop with what?" she asked, her voice tinged with feigned ignorance.

"Thinking you have a chance with Rafe," JJ replied bluntly. Sofia's hands paused for a brief moment before she resumed her task, her shoulders tensing. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that—well, I did, but—" JJ stammered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the sadness clouding her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "Rafe doesn't do relationships, you know that, right? He'll string you along and then break your heart. Besides, he's a jackass." JJ scoffed, his eyes flicking back to Rafe, who was now laughing loudly with a group of friends.

"Who's a jackass?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind them. JJ and Sofia turned to find Sarah, John B, and Pope approaching the bar. Sarah settled into a bar stool beside JJ, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Your brother," JJ stated, his tone flat. Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's worse, trust me," she said, her eyes shifting to Sofia with a knowing look. "Don't tell me you still like Rafe?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity.

Sofia swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sof—" Sarah began, but Sofia cut her off. "Don't. JJ's already said enough," she sighed, placing the last glass back on the rack before leaning against the counter, her posture defeated. "I just don't understand why he doesn't do relationships."

"Commitment issues, probably," Pope suggested, his eyes following the group's collective gaze towards Rafe, who was in conversation with Topper. "He's got way more issues—" John B started, but Sofia shushed him urgently.

"Stop, he's coming this way!" she whisper-yelled, quickly pretending to be busy as Rafe sauntered over. Rafe walked past them all without a second glance, his attention solely focused on the bartender at the far end of the counter. Sofia took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she approached him, ready to offer her service.

But just as she reached him, Rafe glanced her way, his expression indifferent, and turned to the other bartender to place his order. Sofia's heart sank, and she turned back to her friends, who were watching her with sympathetic eyes.

"See? He's an asshole, Sof. Don't waste your time on him," Sarah advised, her voice softening as she watched Sofia's sullen expression. "I guess," Sofia murmured, her gaze lingering on Rafe for a moment longer.

~

"What time do you get off? I was thinking we could have a fire tonight and have drinks at the chateau," John B suggested, leaning casually against the bar. "I'll be off at seven, and that sounds great," Sofia replied with a bright smile. The others chimed in with their agreement, the excitement of the plan evident in their voices.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed you standing by the counter, catching her attention. "I'll be back," she said to her friends, making her way over to you with a welcoming smile. "Hey, can I get you something?" Sofia asked, her eyes meeting yours as you lifted your gaze from your phone, a friendly smile on your lips.

"Hi! Can I just get a Long Island Iced Tea, please?" you replied. "Sure, coming right up," she said, her smile widening as she turned to prepare the drink. As she mixed the ingredients, Sofia couldn't help but steal glances at you. Your natural beauty seemed effortless, and she felt a pang of envy. Your perfectly styled hair, flawless skin, and confident demeanor made her acutely aware of her own insecurities.

"That's a gorgeous necklace you got there," Sofia remarked, her eyes lingering on the shimmering pendant that caught the light with every movement. You smiled warmly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to toy with the delicate chain. Sofia's gaze remained fixed, silently estimating its worth and admiring its intricate design.

"Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday," you chuckled, a note of fondness in your voice. Sofia nodded with a smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of envy. She turned back to prepare your drink, but you called out, "Babe, did you want anything?"

Sofia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and saw Rafe standing beside you, his arm protectively draped over your shoulder. "Whatever you're getting," he replied smoothly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled at Sofia, who struggled to mask her shock and disbelief.

"Can I get another one, please?" you asked, your tone polite and cheerful. Sofia's eyes darted between you and Rafe, her heart sinking as she realized the truth: your boyfriend was Rafe, the guy who supposedly never did relationships. The realization hit her hard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Rafe noticed the awkward silence and turned his attention to Sofia, who still held your drink. "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Don't be rude," you whispered to him, trying to diffuse the tension. Snapping out of her daze, Sofia mumbled, "Sorry," and placed your drink on the counter with a clatter, spilling some of its contents in her haste.

As she prepared the next drink, Sofia couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Rafe. "Do you wanna do anything this afternoon?" Rafe asked, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "Got any ideas?" you chuckled, resting your hands on his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Could take the boat out and have dinner?" he suggested, causing your smile to widen with excitement. "That sounds great—" you began, but were interrupted by a loud thud. "There's your drink," Sofia said, pushing the glass toward you with a bit more force than intended. You thanked her and reached for your card, but Rafe quickly swatted your hand away.

"Don't even," Rafe said playfully, making you sigh jokingly. "Rafe—" you started, but he cut you off, chuckling. "You know to just put it on my tab." Sofia's annoyance bubbled over, her fingers tapping rapidly on the counter in frustration. "Just put it on my tab, Cameron," Rafe repeated, not even glancing at her as he took both drinks.

“Thanks again,” you said with a polite smile to Sofia before walking off with Rafe. From behind the bar, Sofia watched with a mix of emotions as you settled onto Rafe’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Laughter bubbled up between you, triggered by something one of your friends said, a scene that ignited jealousy and heartache in Sofia.

She exhaled shakily before returning to her friends, attempting to distract herself from the sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, her friends had witnessed the entire scene. “Did you not know?” Sofia asked Sarah, wiping down the bar in an effort to focus her thoughts. Sarah hesitated before responding, her expression conflicted. “I did…” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sofia’s voice quivered with confusion and hurt, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t know they were together!” Sarah’s voice was defensive yet apologetic. “I thought they were just hooking up, but I guess not…” She shrugged, a look of regret crossing her face.

“How long?” Sofia finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Sarah hesitated, meeting Sofia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before answering, “About a month, now?” Sofia fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over.

“Shit. They’re even matching clothes and everything,” Pope muttered under his breath, the disbelief evident in his voice. His words were abruptly silenced by a firm slap from John B on his chest.

“Sofia…” JJ began, his tone soft and filled with concern. But Sofia, determined not to let her emotions show, dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A solitary tear had slipped down her cheek, betraying her true feelings, which she quickly wiped away.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They look good together anyway,” she added, casting a fleeting glance at you and Rafe. The sight of you both seemed to sting, but she tried to mask it.

Clearing her throat, Sofia straightened up, striving to maintain her composure. “I’m just gonna go back to work,” she said, her voice steadying as she turned away. With a final, determined breath, she walked off, leaving her friends behind, trying to hold herself together.

It was so well written, and I can't stop reading it

Chapter 3 - Burning in the Lava

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Someone give Bucky a Xanax or something, he needs it.

Chapter Title from demons by Hayley Kiyoko

Word Count: 11.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Bucky has a rough first week on the job, and you engage in psychological warfare. Contains usual tags.

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Read on A03!

It’s easy to underestimate you. It’s a mistake people frequently make, because you want them to. The optimist is never pleasantly surprised.

And the docile animal is never sedated.

And you’ve practiced being that animal your whole life.

It’s part of the show. When you’d shaped yourself into an accessory, your smile had been sickly sweet and full lipped, you’d bow your head when you spoke, and you’d watch your feet as you walked, as if you’d been afraid you’d trip over yourself.

After you got the out—the job, the only thing you’ve ever been allowed to be good at—you’d become overly confident. All sharp words and raised chins and perfectly made masks, powerful but not approachable, commanding but obviously trying too hard to be so. 

It’s purposefully mistaken for arrogance. Someone who was a threat to people who couldn’t hurt you anyway—people who the show worked on, who overestimated you and never thought twice about how you’re hollow, and lonely, and would likely shatter with one wrong touch—didn’t know how to see your everything for the lie it was. They’d never even imagine that all it would take is one carefully crafted and aimed sentence, and you rip yourself apart from within.

And people who were a threat would take the arrogance for the overcompensation it was, and they’d still underestimate you. They’d see you as too little, but trying to be more, and never even think that there was something deeper. Something to be weary of. 

They’d think they were seeing right through you, and that the one layer they’d managed to peel away was the only cage you kept yourself in.

You’d been so sure Bucky Barnes would fall in the latter category. He’d already seen you without any mask at dinner, but he’d seemed to read you as nothing more than a rich, spoiled brat who didn’t understand the threat Hydra posed. You’d hoped that would make him think he’d worked you out, and that by caving so fast to Sam’s stupid order you’d gotten him to believe you’d just roll over.

But when you get to your office the next morning, he’s waiting for you. Standing with his arms braced on his hips in the lobby of your building, an equal distance between the stairs and the elevator, scanning over the area and ignoring all the stares in his direction with an obviously practiced ease.

You don’t know how long he’s been there. Likely too long, given the depth of his scowl, but that might just be his face. There are slight bags under his eyes, but they’d been there last night as well. It’s unreasonably early in the morning—barely past 6am, the only other people in the lobby being security and night staff—so Barnes can’t have been waiting a while, but he and Sam had beaten you to the restaurant last night, which means Sam might have blabbed about you always being early and if Barnes had been paying attention-

Fuck.

Barnes isn’t the latter group. He isn’t the former, either.

He’s a whole new beast. You don’t know quite what yet, but not what you’re used to. Not a shallow pretty-boy or old, slimy asshole who will fall apart for the giggling, glossy-eyed and pouting lips act.

Not a well-trained, proud agent or politician who thought they were smarter than you, and weren’t.

Something you’ll have to dissect and maneuver around with more effort than you’re used to.

And you’d known this wouldn’t be easy. You’d hoped it wouldn’t be barely ten hours in that Barnes started to be a problem, but there he is, waiting for you in the lobby like he’d already anticipated that you’d try something.

And just because he’s right—you’d absolutely been about to try something—doesn’t mean that it’s not annoying.

But you’ll be fine. You’ll adapt. Barnes may not be underestimating you the way you’d wanted, but he’s still underestimating you. He hasn’t spotted you, standing outside the building with a baseball cap and sunglasses—Happy may have told you to stop taking the subway until this was fixed, but he wasn’t your boss, so you’d done it anyway—and he doesn’t seems to be at all worried that you can easily see him through the glass.

He thinks he’s already won. That you’re going to just stomp into the lobby and fight him there, when that will so clearly be handing him the victory.

And you don’t know what Barnes thinks you are. 

But you’re well aware that, whatever it is, he’s wrong. 

It’s not as difficult as it should be to get past him. You simply turn on your heels, walk around the block to the parking garage entrance, and enter through there. Carefully. With the stairs up to the second floor, then the elevator up to your office. 

Once he realizes that he’s already lost you and works out where you are, you’re going to need to have a serious conversation with him about covering all his bases. Maybe a conversation with Sam about how, if Barnes were five people instead of one super solider, the garage would’ve been covered and this never would’ve happened. Or a conversation with Happy about how Barnes didn’t see you, but the cameras had, so maybe they were better security than he was.

You’ll find it. You’ll have time to find it, because it’s going to take Barnes at least an hour to figure out what’s happened, and by the time he does you’ll already be several more steps ahead.

Your assistant, a sweet girl named Grace who’s only been here a year, but you still trust more than most of the actual board, is already at her desk when you arrive. You drop her coffee on the desk before she can speak, raising your brows as she blinks up at you.

“You’re early.”

“You’re early. My schedule is your schedule, ma’am-” 

You roll your eyes, pushing the coffee further forward. “Don’t call me that.”

“Mr. Hogan call you that-“

“Happy is afraid of me, you’re not. How long have you been here?”

“Only for like an hour-“ Grace cuts herself off, her hand freezing on the cup as her eyes widen. “Shit, did you come in through the lobby again? I think I saw the Winter Solider down there-“

He’s been here at least an hour. Good to know.

“And he was just, like, standing guard? I know you’re friends with Captain America, but I’ve never seen him here before, do you know what he wants-“

“Me.” You shrug, glancing over your shoulder to check that Barnes isn’t about to burst out of the elevator or stairwell, and when you look back to Grace she’s gaping at you, her voice suddenly a squeak.

“You? He’s here for- Did- Did Mr. Wilson introduce you? Did you finally break up with-“

You wrinkle your nose, your lips curling as you put together her disconnect. “No, not that. I- There are some things going on, and Sargent Barnes is supposed to be my security until they’re worked out.”

Grace nods slowly, her brow furrowing slightly. “Supposed to be? You’re not-“ She blinks at you, shaking her head. “No-“

“Yeah. Sorry.” You give her a grimacing smile, pushing the coffee once more. “I got five vanilla shots, and cinnamon-“

“I don’t want your bribery coffee,” Grace snaps your name, shoving the cup back across her desk. “Please don’t make me do this. Please.“

Something tightens in your throat at the genuine desperation on Grace’s face, and you let out a long breath before shaking your head. “Just tell him I’m busy. Put like a- A fake meeting in my schedule. Five fake meetings, and a lunch with someone important.”

“Mr. Wilson?” Grace suggests, still sitting too tall in her chair. “He’s still in town, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t use him. Barnes is friends with Sam, he’ll snitch and then the bird-ass will fly through my window again.” You drum your fingers on your own coffee, frowning at the air as your brain spins. “Scratch the lunch. I’ll stay in my office, and the meetings can all be online. That way if things get heated out here, I can come save you.”

“Save me?” Grace pales slightly. “I- why-“

“He’s not going to hurt you.” You wave her off with a hand and half-shrug. “But he’ll probably glare at you a lot, maybe try and talk you into letting him in. If you need to cave, just give me heads up first and I’ll deal with it. Okay?”

Grace chews on her lips, but nods, and you give her a genuine, smile. One that you hope she can see the gratitude in. You don’t really try to do the Show with Grace. She’s seen you cry over movies and sing in your car, watched you dance around your office when nobody else was in the building. She wouldn’t take the Show seriously. And she’s met your cat, and siblings, and him, so there’s really no point to it anymore.

“Thank you.” You say it aloud any way, just so you’re sure she knows, and pause before you move into your office. “Do you want the coffee?”

Grace scowls, but yanks the cup back from your hands. “I hate you.”

You only hum, and try to brush off how her words twist in your gut. She doesn’t mean them. You don’t think she means them. But you are asking a lot, and ward off an ex-assassin wasn’t exactly in the job description, so maybe you’re pushing it, and she does hate you-

Problems for later. When this whole situation is over, you’ll give her three weeks off. Paid. And you’ll clean her apartment, and water her plants while she’s gone. 

But right now, you have work to do.

There are real meetings. Actual things you need to attend to, that aren’t fabricated for the sake of avoiding Barnes. But you mostly say your piece and tune everything else out, because you already know what everyone is going over, and it’s more productive to multi-task. You can listen to Joe from event management drone for a very long hour about the full guest list for the next fundraiser and respond to emails about how that Wakandan vaccine is going to be up for bidding soon. You can even plot out a good timeline for distribution and draft out your pitch, all while interjecting with your opinions about the seat arrangements and evening itinerary. 

When the meeting ends, you almost go outside to ask Grace if she’s printed the latest round of grants and bids, but you’re barely out of the chair when you hear him. 

For a man that had been angry about the volume of your music in a completely empty parking lot, he sure is shouting in a workplace. 

“I am not asking to see her.” He’s snapping at Grace, and it’s easy to picture him leaning over her desk, pointing a finger at your office door. “I’m under orders from Captain America to watch your boss, so let me in.”

“Mr. Barnes if you want an appointment with the CEO,” Grace says your name with an impressively bored tone, and you can hear the tap of her keyboard through the door. “Well- It looks like she’s busy until October. Are you free in October?”

“Goddamnit- She might not be alive in October-“

“It’s the only free time slot she has right now.”

“The only-“ Barnes cuts himself off, and there’s a long moment of silence before he speaks again. “She told you not to let me in, didn’t she.”

You sit a little straighter in your chair, frowning at the door. Barnes isn’t loud enough that you’re worried about Grace, but his tone has enough cold menace to make something under your skin boil, and you’d made Grace do this, but it isn’t her war to fight-

Your computer pings softly, and when you glance back to the screen your body fully relaxes. 

Grace Young

I’ve got it. 

“If you have a message, I can relay it.” Grace’s voice is still calm, almost commanding. Maybe she should be your guard. “Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

There’s another pause, and when Barnes speaks his voice is low. “Wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

You don’t hear anything else, and your computer pings once more seconds later. 

Grace Young

He’s sitting on the couch.

Should I call security?

You sigh, glancing back to the door as you respond.

No. I can’t kick him out or Sam will yell at me.

Just keep saying I’m busy. 

Grace Young

Yes, Ma’am.

You roll your eyes and move back to your work. 

It’s amazing how long the charade lasts. You stay in your office, and you’d suspect that this was Barnes’ plan the whole time—to keep you in a self-imposed lockdown, with him guarding the only exit in and out of the room—if he didn’t go back up to Grace every hour and demand to be let inside.

She never caves.

You’re busy. You’re in a meeting that didn’t exist three hours ago, with four people who aren’t real. You’re eating lunch. You’re napping. Now isn’t a good time, because people really need charity at noon more than any other time of the day.

Four weeks. Paid, and funded for wherever she wants to travel. 

And you don’t waste the time. You respond to all your emails, attend three more real meetings, and go through all the proposals on your computer. The only real flaw with this plan is that, eventually, you are going to have to go home. This isn’t a long-term solution, and Barnes will almost certainly figure out how you got around him this morning, so this was a one-time trick that won’t work tomorrow.

But it doesn’t have to work tomorrow. The goal isn’t sustainability. 

The goal is to drive Barnes out of his mind. To make him regret any promises he made to Sam, and give up on you entirely so you can go back to lonely, miserable peace. 

And it’s doing its job beautifully. Because Barnes snaps around 6pm—you have to hand it to him, he held out longer than you’d expected—and you’re ready. You’ve held your own against angry old men before. They may not have had metal arms and sharp jawlines, but they’d held your life in their hands far more than Barnes ever will, and you hadn’t folded. 

In comparison to those ghosts and stained, stuffed-down memories, Barnes will be nothing.

Grace pings you that he’s coming, and you brace yourself, slipping into the Show right as your door breaks down.

“You’re going to have to fix that.” You hum, keeping your attention casually fixed on the computer. “I don’t think it’s very secure for me to not have a door.”

There’s no response for a long moment, it eats at the ringing in your ears, and you fall for it. You can’t fucking stand how the hum of the fan is so loud, how you can hear yourself breathing and shifting in your chair—how it’s you and that’s always too much—and you look up.

Barnes is standing in front of your desk with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed—his scowl almost carved onto his features as hair falls over his face—and the mask almost slips. He’s not scary, and you’re in no danger, but you still feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

Not just his voice, then. You’ll need to be careful of his eyes as well, examining you like a specimen and filled with a carefully leashed fury that leaks into the air. Your breath hitches under his attention, and you know he catches it—one blink, nostril flare—but you don’t care. 

Making him angry was part of the plan. 

Adapt. Rationalize and adapt. 

You give him a mockingly innocent, full-lipped smile. “Can I help you?”

His jaw clenches, his eyes raking over your face for an answer he doesn’t seem to find. “How did you get up here.”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, looking back to your computer. “That was like, nine hours ago.”

“I need to know.” He grunts, leaning further over your desk. “If there’s an access point I haven’t been made aware of, it could be a vulnerability-“

“No.”

You can see the blink in your periphery. “What do you mean, no.”

“It’s not a vulnerability. It’s my building, James. People know who I am. They’re going to let me inside.”

There’s a moment of pause, and when Barnes speaks again his words are slow. “So you saw people. You got in through a primary entrance.” Another pause, his gaze almost prickling over your skin, and then- “The garage.”

Shit. 

“Maybe.” You hum, keeping your eyes on the computer. “Doesn’t really matter.”

Barnes grunts. “I’m picking you up tomorrow.”

“You don’t know where I live-“

“Yeah, I do. It was in your file.” He pauses, and you see him give a firm nod to the air. “We’ll take your car-“

“I don’t drive.”

“Of course you drive, I saw you-“

“I drive to dinner. Not to work.”

“You-“ Barnes cuts himself off, and you start slightly as his fist slams on your desk. “What the fuck are you typing.”

You blink at your screen—full of absolute gibberish, because typing was just another part of the Show—and slowly look back to Barnes. “Emails. Sorry- Emails are like letters, but you type them, and use this thing called the internet to send them.”

Barnes stares at you, and shakes his head. “Is this a fucking joke to you?”

“Yes.” You answer without hesitation, raising your chin and leaning back in your chair. “I mean, the letter bit wasn’t my best, but-“

“I’m talking about Hydra.” Barnes hisses, planting his metal hand on your desk as he leans forward. “I’m talking about how Sam believes you’re in danger, enough to drag me into it, and you’re acting like you think it’s nothing. Like you’re above it.”

Above it.

That rattles and dislodges something in your body. You are not above it. You aren’t above anything. You slathered yourself in paint and torn yourself apart like a dysfunctional toy, and this is a joke because everything has to be. Because you’re above nothing—you’re buried in the center of the Earth and hotter than its core—and Barnes doesn’t know shit about what he’s saying.

But your gut begins to feel something like a rot. Sam is worried. He’s trying. But you’d told him you didn’t need Barnes, and that’s what keeps the mask in place. You’ll take care of this yourself, and to do that Barnes needs to remain out of your way.

No risks.

No holes.

The Show keeps going because that’s what you are, and you remain alone, just as you’re supposed to be.

“I do not think it’s nothing. And I think this,” you point between yourself and Barnes. “Is the joke. Not Hydra. I don’t need you, Barnes, and I know you don’t want to be here-“

He tenses slightly, cutting you off with a grunt. “I told Sam I would be here. And you’re not getting away with shit on my watch. This isn’t a joke, doll, none of it, and if you know that you should start fucking acting like it.”

Doll. It’s like a noose around your neck that makes the world narrow. You still don’t break the Show. You raise your chin and cover the broken parts of your voice with a crude, bored tone. 

“I will act as I please. This is my life, I will treat it however I want.”

He scoffs, looking you over like he can see you. The real, more than human you. The one tucked deep, deep down that’s scratching at her cage and whining the longer the Show goes on, the one that always breaks out just a little and gets the better of you. Makes you say stupid things and fall apart in the dead of night. The one you work so fucking hard to keep down when you can, but never manage to smother entirely because you’re you, and there’s no proper weapon against that. No tool that can skin you down permanently. It’s why you keep yourself so far down. 

There’s no way he can see it. Even Sam barely sees it. Sam sees past the Show and most every mask, but he still doesn’t see everything, and he’s known you longer than almost anyone. There is no reason to believe Barnes would’ve cracked you open after barely a day. 

So you keep your chin high as he glowers at you, and when he speaks again there’s no change to his tone. It’s still the rough, commanding danger from before, with no new blood or fury around the edges, and you think—for now—you’re safe. 

“I told Sam I’d be here.” He repeats, holding your gaze. “And I am doing this for him, not you, so I will be here. In your office. Watching you. The next time you make your receptionist-“

“Assistant.” You correct, keeping your voice bored and smooth. “She does just as much as I do. Grace is my assistant.”

Barnes lets out a long breath, and pinches the bridge of his nose as if you’re physically hurting him. “The next time you make your assistant keep me outside, I am not waiting until the end of the day to break down your door-“

“You still have to fix that-“

“And I will.” He snaps. “When you go one goddamn week following my rules.”

Your mouth curves into a wide, disbelieving grin. “Your rules? Am I going to need a fucking hall pass for the bathroom?”

Barnes continues as if you’d never spoken. “I am going to be in your office every morning, and leave with you every night. I get full access to your security systems, here and at home.” He’s raising a finger for every point. A finger made of skin and bone, rather than metal. “You pull that Houdini trick on me again-“

“I don’t think you know how a Houdini works-“

“And I handcuff you to your fucking chair.” 

Your grin grows, his scowl deepens, and this is too fucking easy. “Kinky.”

Jaw clench. Two blinks. Nostril flare. “Stop interrupting me. I go to all your meetings, and work events, and if Hydra contacts you again, I am the first to hear about it.” Barnes braces his hand back on your desk, leaning back forward. “Understood?”

You shrug, and he looks like he’s about to tear your head off.

He grunts your name—your first name, and it’s still so strange when he says it—and you cut him off with a flat tone and raised brows. 

“Are you done?”

He blinks at you. Twice. “Am I done?”

You hum with a nod, and his voice drops slightly.

“Are you going to listen?”

“Of course, James. You know, you didn’t actually tell me any of this before, so maybe I just didn’t think you’d want to spend all your time herding me like a sheep-“

“Sheep listen.” Barnes drawls, repeating your name. “And just say what you want.”

You pause, holding his gaze as everything stutters, and he hasn’t seen through you but he’d seen enough. He knows you have an angle, or a game, and he’s still staring at you like—if he looks for long enough—he’ll tear apart the Show with only his attention and you’ll mold into the real you.

You don’t know what he’d want with the real you. What he’s aiming for, by grabbing your cards and forcing them one the table.

For now, it doesn’t matter. He’s angry. And you’d have gotten here eventually, he just doesn’t seem to enjoy your dance that most powerful people love to play with.

That’s fine.

Most of this is easier without it.

“I don’t want anything.” You hum, tilting your head at him and keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “But I do have a few rules of my own.”

“Rules-“

“That is what I said.” You let your smile pull back at your lips, because it seems to hit a raw nerve in Barnes that you’d like to tease. “I’ll do all of your shit, if you do all of mine. Deal?”

Barnes jaw twitches slightly. “I’m not getting you coffee-“

You roll your eyes. “Good. I don’t want you to. Deal?”

He stares at you, the wood of your desk scraping slightly as his body tenses, and this time—scanning over your features and glaring at you like you’re personally responsible for Hydra’s existence and this whole situation—he finds what he’s looking for.

“Deal.” His words are pushed through his teeth, and he gives you a tight nod. “Go.”

“First of all, we are not friends.”

Barnes snorts, opening his mouth to sneer something back, but you’re faster.

“Shut up. What that means is that you’re here to keep Hydra off my ass, and that is all you’ll do. If you have thoughts on any other aspects of my life, keep them to yourself. You don’t get security access to my apartment, because it’s Stark funded and designed, so I will be fine. If I need to go somewhere and I tell you not to come, you’ll listen, and we’ll do hourly check-ins so you don’t start crying. I will let you bring me to work-“

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, you’ll let me-“

“But,” you continue, ignoring his mocking tone. “We’re taking the subway. Got it?”

Barnes is staring again. Sam told you he did that, but you’d thought he was exaggerating. It’s almost amazing to see in person, but you have a feeling he really does believe that if he stares at you enough, you’ll either be you—if he can see you, and knows there’s something to pry out at all—or you’ll somehow cave and fold into an easy victim. Innocent and hopeless and needy, afraid and nothing more.

You are afraid. You still don’t know what Hydra wants. You have Barnes, but he’s more of a sentry—if you’re being generous, and if you’re not, he’s an additional problem—and you have Sam, but he’s Captain America. His primary concern shouldn’t be you. It can’t be you, because you don’t need it more than anyone else, you’re less deserving of it than anyone could be, and if it is you that Hydra is after, then there will be other things to be afraid of.

Things that can’t be fixed like this, things that you can’t run from because it’s just not that easy.

None of this is easy. Barnes isn’t easy, Hydra isn’t easy, and you won’t be easy. The easy victim is a myth regardless, but you’re about to make it look like a fucking legend.  You’re exhausted and afraid and Barnes doesn’t get to walk in and stare at you, then think he’s in control. You’ve fought too violently to give in, and you feel a little sick—the weight of a migraine starting to press at your brow, paired with the twist of your stomach that makes the room start to spin—so you don’t have the energy to be easy. 

If you don’t have to put on the normal Show for Barnes, you’ll work out a new one that still keeps him on the outside. Looking in at what you want him to see, and nothing more. 

You’ll have plenty of time to figure that out tonight. You know you won’t sleep. You’re frayed and stretched too thin to sleep, your brain too wired from the fear and loneliness and everything.

So when Barnes nods, it’s a relief. This—whatever it was—is done. You can go home.

You stand without anther word, grab your already packed bag—you never fully unpack, just in case you have to move—and push past Barnes without a glance. You only pause your march to the elevator to tap on Grace’s desk, your words softer and quieter as the room starts to blur.

“Give Barnes my number, and tell security to give him full building access.”

Grace nods, glancing back over her shoulder to your office. You follow her gaze and swallow a slightly yelp, because Barnes has silently moved to the doorway, and is watching with a stoic, stone-like expression.

“Hi.” Grace mumbles. “I- uh- the door-“

“He’ll fix it.” You mutter, rubbing your face as you scan over the wholly abandoned office. “And you can do those things from home, if you want.”

Grace looks back to you with a frown. “Are you going home? It’s only-“

“I don’t feel well. I- Yeah.” You let out a long breath, and Grace’s eyes narrow. 

She doesn’t know why you don’t feel well. She doesn’t know that he has been gone too long, and the bond is starting to wither, let alone that—if it’s left abandoned for too long—this pain will be the easy part.

She does know that this happens. She’s made the connection that it’s often, in some way, because of him.

“Are you going to call-“

“No.” Your voice is harsher than you’d meant it, but Grace doesn’t flinch. She knows—you think she knows, you hope she knows, she has to know or you’re the lowest piece of shit on the planet—that you don’t mean it. 

She only nods slowly, and lowers her voice as her eyes flash with what you know to be concern. When it’s anything about him, it’s always concern.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head, flinching slightly at the movement. You need to lie down now, before darkness overtakes your vision and you collapse on the floor in front of fucking Barnes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Grace hums, giving you one last worried look but letting it go, and you spare Barnes a nod before you leave.

But he moves. He follows you into the elevator and stands in front of the door with his arms crossed, only acknowledging you when you let out a dramatic cough, and he glares over his shoulder.

“What are you doing.”

He rolls his eyes, and looks back to the door. “We’re getting you home.”

“I-” You gape at his back, and it looks dense, but you still think it would hurt him if you punched hard enough. “What?“

“You said I was allowed to bring you to and from your home. We had a deal, kid.” He shrugs, and you can see his muscles moving under his shirt. It’s hypnotizing.

You’re losing your willpower faster than usual tonight.

“I don’t need an escort.” You mumble, but the pain is reaching your tongue and it’s hard to make your tone firm. “‘M fine-“

“I don’t care.” He grunts, still not looking at you as the doors open. “Move.”

You almost whine, but choke it down with a scowl as you drag yourself together. You won’t falter. You’ll hold the Show together until you’re finally alone, and then you’ll fall apart.  

You make it. Barnes rides the subway at your side, all the way to your apartment, and you make it because you’ve made it through worse. All that you had to do here was stare at your knees—a little bruised, tucked to your chest in your seat—and pretend you couldn’t feel Barnes watching you. 

You keep your steps steady as you finish the walk from the station, and give Barnes a grimacing smile that you hope he interprets as I hate you and hope your shower is cold tonight instead of I feel like death, and if I try to do anything more than this I’ll start screaming.

You’ll see him tomorrow. You’ll put on the Show—the one you’re going to tailor specially for him—and play the game, right up until he caves, and you win.

And you will win. You’re already a step ahead without him knowing. He doesn’t try to follow you up to your apartment. You’re going to adapt, and he’ll see nothing more than what you want him to. When you make it to your bedroom—kicking off your shoes and shuffling up the stairs without bothering to turn on the lights—you collapse and let out a weak, shaking breath as you fade in and out of consciousness, but you’re still winning.

You have to shift through his drawer for a shirt, just to keep yourself held together. You’ll die before you call him—before you plead for him to come back now, before you give him more control—but you’re winning.

In the loosest sense, you’re winning.

You’re too you but no one’s here to see it. See you sobbing and curling into the sheets because it hurts, and you’re alone, and it’s so dark and cold and there’s no way out. No one to save you from this, and maybe if Hydra does take you it will be the best outcome, because you’ll be freeing Sam, and Happy, and Barnes, and everyone else who you’ve tricked into existing where you can leech off of them.

It'll be better in the morning. It’s always better in the morning. You make it the whole night without calling him, with the only gashes forming over your heart where no one can see them, and it’s always better in the morning.

The sun drifts through the windows, and the Boy is sitting and purring on your chest, and you’re okay. You’re still lonely and hollow, but you’re okay.

You know how to deal with Barnes without revealing too much—for a brief moment in the dark you’d considered showing him everything, as it would drive him away faster than anything, but that would lose you Sam and you can’t lose Sam—and you’re going to win. 

You’ve never lost a game like this before. And Barnes may be a semi-worthy opponent, but you’re still you. You don’t matter enough for him to fight you forever. You’re too much for him hold against for long.

He can see through you, but that means he’ll hate you faster. If anything, you’ll be doing him a favor. Nobody should have to pretend you’re worthy of being served or guarded in anyway, and when you win, you’ll be sparing Barnes of yourself.

You’ve have this under control.

You don’t make him do anything. You have too many people doing things for you as it is. When you walk outside and find Barnes standing—tall and rigid and almost inhumanly still—on the sidewalk, the only acknowledgment you offer him is a sweet smile that makes his jaw twitch. You’re not sure if it’s your joy or overall presence that’s the problem, but you can work with either.

“Barnes.” You hum, your smile widening as you scan him over. His outfit is identical to the one he wore yesterday, and you’re not entirely sure he ever went home. “Morning.”

He grunts your name, returning your assessing stare, and you know he can see the underlying anger and mocking respect behind your smile. You’re counting on it. 

“This is the part where you say morning back.” You prompt, and his nostrils flare.

“Morning.”

“Good job.” 

“Shut up.”

“Rude.” You drop your voice under your breath, fully aware that he’s still going to hear it. “Let’s go, Sargent. I’ve got a lot of places to be.”

Barnes doesn’t respond, and you try not to feel like too much of a whiny, pathetic fucking bitch as you walk to the subway. Chin raised, expression bored and borderline haughty, posture perfectly straight like you think you’re better. 

You know you’re not better. You know that—with every person that passes you on the street and crowds you in the subway car—you are far, far worse. But Barnes thinks you see yourself as some kind of mortal goddess among the less worthy, just a brat who thinks she’s above things—that word is still clawing at your skull, above, as if you’re not made of trash scraps that are polished to mimic diamonds—and you have no interest in correcting him. You have things you don’t deserve. You are undeserving, just as he thinks, but he doesn’t need to know that you’re deeply and critically aware of that.

If you need to be the entitled, holy imposter that he’s painting you as, it’s exactly what you’ll become. 

When you reach the crowded subway, Barnes freezes behind you. You don’t need to turn to know he’s glaring at you. You don’t bother to hide the smile in your voice as you speak.

“You good?”

All you get in response is another grunt, and your smile widens.

He had to have known it wouldn’t be this easy. You’d be a little disappointed if he thought it was. 

“The ride is like, ten minutes.” You say, rubbing at your wrist as you watch the people shift around you. There’s a woman with metallic nails, a man with a clearly broken watch, and no protesters or preachers. Barnes got lucky. “When we get there it’s pretty much just following me around, right?”

There’s a pause, and then, “What.”

“Your plans.” You shoot him a wide, toothy smile over your shoulder. “I have work to do. What are you going to do, James? How are you going to protect me?”

Two blinks. Nostril flare. “That’s not your concern.”

“I dunno, it kinda feels like it is-“

“Pretend I’m not here, doll.” He snaps, and his attention is doing the thing again. You feel small, and naked, and vulnerable. It’s like a blade through your gut and a clamp around your heart. “I’ll keep you alive, and you can do,” he scans over you, his tone dropping to flat. Dismissive. “Whatever you do.”

You don’t let it show how his words hit somewhere deeper than he’d likely been aiming. You can’t let it show. It will be a point in his favor, that he’s made your mask shatter even one bit, that he’s driven through all your carefully forged defenses to hit a raw, white-hot nerve. 

He sees it though. In the split second before you push yourself—with inconvenient emotions, a lump in your throat, and rapid thoughts of you don’t really do anything but take up fucking space and money and time—down, your smile falters, you feel yourself slip out, and Barnes smirks.

He saw you. The Show slips back into place, but Barnes saw you. 

You keep going. You just have to keep going, and adapt, and give him a mocking grin as you step onto the subway. 

He hates it. You can see it in how he holds himself the whole ride, like he’s bracing for an attack. And Barnes seems to hate most everything, but you’re hoping it will be the small things that get him. That make him give up on you, because you plaster that mocking smile back on your face, humming and bouncing on your feet at his side, and by the time you get to the Stark Foundation building you’d safely bet you’re another step ahead. 

And you keep gaining strides. The day passes with long, boring meetings and fights with old men who think they’re smarter than you are, and Barnes sits silently in the corner. Like he’s a phantom, or part of the room’s decoration, his attention always pushing its way into your body.

Everyone keeps shooting him weary looks and cautious glances, like the wrong breath will set him into a bloodied frenzy.

You just ignore him.

“Is that all he’s going to do?” Grace whispers, holding her papers to her chest and nodding her head to Barnes in the corner of your office. 

You shrug. “He’s a hundred, Grace. You can ask him to do more, but it might kill him.”

Barnes doesn’t react. You didn’t expect him to.

“Are you going on lunch?”

Grace nods. “The deli. You want the-“

“Yes, please.” You hum, hiking one leg up to your seat as you lean back over your computer. “Ask the old fuck if he wants something.”

Barnes blinks in the background, and only shakes his head when Grace approaches him. 

The door barely closes behind her when his attention returns to you, and you shoot him a bright smile. 

“You got any other plans for the day, besides intimidating my employees?”

His jaw ticks. “No.”

You hum, scanning over him with mock curiosity. “If I decorate you, will you break my arm?”

“If you- What?”

“Decorate you, dummy.” You return your attention to your computer, shrugging as you begin to type. “I’m thinking glitter and ribbons.”

“Why in god’s name would you need to decorate me,” he snaps your name, his voice more gravelly and rough than only seconds ago, and you take it as a victory. He’s slipping. “I am not a fucking Christmas tree.”

“No, but you don’t go with anything.” You let out a dramatic sigh, pretending this is really a plague on your mind. “You could at least try to match the aesthetic, if you’re going to be standing there all day.”

He doesn’t respond. You can feel his attention pushing right into your body once more, but he doesn’t speak for the rest of the day. 

You’re still winning.

The week stretches on, the weekend passes with Barnes texting you every hour to make sure you’re not dead, and you keep it together. You’re playing the Show almost perfectly.

Almost. 

There are brief moments like the one that morning. Long seconds where Barnes gets an advantage, and you have to almost scramble to regain your ground. It’s unnerving, and exhausting, but you manage. You adapt. 

You take the same train to and from work every morning, and Barnes marches what you’re guessing is meant to be a respectable distance behind you, keeping his impossibly blank expression every single second. 

It’s three days before you manage to pry it open just an inch. To hit some part of him that’s just as deep as he’s gotten to hit you. 

“Have you ever been to the opera?”

He blinks down at you, and you give him a soft, innocent smile. 

“What.”

“The opera.” You raise your brows, swinging slightly on the subway pole as you watch him. “You know, you say what a lot.”

He scowls. “Well, you say stupid things a lot.”

“Aw, you listen to me?”

“It’s my job.”

“Shucks.” You sigh, pouting up at him. “And here I thought I was interesting.”

His eyes flash slightly, and he starts to say something that will likely make your heart drop to your gut and pull you right out of the Show, so you plow on.

“You never answered my question, James. Have you been to the opera?”

He just stares at you, and you let out a long breath.

“Sorry, I forgot you were a dinosaur. The opera is like a musical, but louder and there aren’t any spoken lines. Like reverse ballet. They’re usually in Italian, I think. You can’t be sure because all words sound the same when you’re saying them like you’re a bird. It’s kind of like-“

You take a long deep breath, ready to belt out a purposefully off-key note, and Barnes covers your mouth with a gloved hand. 

It’s a firm grip. His eyes are flashing, and his nostrils are flared, and you can see his annoyance. When his words come out gruff and pushed through his teeth, you know you’ve won again.

“Do you ever shut up?” He hisses, and you raise your brows, looking pointedly down to his hand.

He follows you gaze, and releases you with a glower. 

“That was rude.” You half whine, pushing him a little further. “You could’ve just asked me to be quiet-“

He rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t have listened.”

“Well, you’ll never know that, because you didn’t try.” You sigh, returning to dramatic pout to your face. “There’s this thing called manners, James. It’s where you say please and thank you and don’t cover the mouth of perfectly sweet girls-“

Barnes scoffs. “You are not sweet-“

“In train cars.” You keep talking as if he’d said nothing, because you’re not sweet and it hurts deep in your chest how easily he said that. “I could’ve pepper sprayed you, dumbass.”

You can feel him scanning you over, so you stand a little taller and keep your gaze fixed on the blurred walls.

“You don’t have pepper spray.”

“No. But I’d have figured something out. One slightly confusing question and you would’ve crumbled.”

Barnes grunts “You think you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.” You drawl, examining your nail as the subway car rattles slightly. “We’re going to the opera, by the way. That’s why I asked.”

Going to the opera means walking through the building, seeing a dress rehearsal and giving your stamp of approval, because all the proceeds from the show will go the Manhattan Food Bank, but those are details Barnes doesn’t need know that. Those things won’t play into the Show, not as he needs to see it.

All Barnes needs to do is follow you around and see how you’ve muzzled yourself. Watch you give sweet smiles and kind words to people, just to turn around and mock and snap at him. He needs to see the over-composure and know it’s a trick. He needs to know you’re a liar, a wrong, twisted, hideous liar, and never bother to try and search deeper. 

He just needs to hate you, and care about you so little that he either doesn’t bother to really do his job—Sam or no Sam—or leaves overall. 

You think it’s working. He engages less and less with you every passing day. Only standing in the corner, glowering at you as you work. 

“I- ah-“ The small, weedy man you’re meeting with about public school donations swallows his words, glancing to where Barnes has planted himself by the door. “I am- As I’m sure you’re aware, ma’am, our arts depar-“ He chokes again, looking back to Barnes. “The music- um- Orchestra-“

“Is it Barnes?” You ask, and the man blinks at you.

“I- I’m sorry?”

“Sargent stone-face.” You angle your head in Barnes’ direction, and he doesn’t move an inch. “Is he freaking you out?”

“I- It’s not a problem,” the man says your name softy, but gives Barnes another nervous look. “I’m sure he’s- yes- it’s fine-“

You let out a long breath, glaring at Barnes over the man’s head. “James. Relax.”

His eye flash, but his shoulder slump slightly. 

And you stare at each other, your own shock written all over your face, likely a perfect mirror to his.

He’d relaxed. For one brief second he’d relaxed, just because you told him to, and if the way he’s blinking at you is any indication, he hadn’t meant to. He just had. 

You return your focus to the man in front of you, and don’t look at Barnes again until after the man leaves.

“It’s rude to stare.” You hum. “It’s part of the manners thing we talked about yesterday.”

He rolls his eyes. “So I’ve heard.”

It’s all you get. But you know you’ve carved a little deeper, because in your next meeting, Barnes’ shoulders return to the slight slump—as if he’s trying not to draw any attention, backing further into the wall and giving the suit talking to you a small nod when he walks in the door—but the intensity of his glare seems to double. 

And he’s keeping his end of the deal. You aren’t trying to dodge or undermine him—not obviously, or visibly—and he’s not pushing himself into your life. The pain returns with more and more force every night and he never questions it, because you’re not worth the effort questioning. Of putting in more than the passive, stoic effort he seems to have mastered. 

It’s exactly what you wanted. You can keep it up for months if you need to. 

But the pain is becoming a problem. Too many mornings have come where you’re hunched on the floor of the bathroom, your fingers hovering over his contact, because it hurts and he could fix it. Just his voice would make it better. Seal the bond just enough to hold you over until he came back home, and you had a whole new kind of pain to push through. 

You never call him. You work and work, tossing Stark money to anyone who can prove they need it and grinding yourself into the sparkling ash that you need to be. The Show keeps going, and you keep adapting, just as you always done. 

Exactly what you have to do for what matters. 

The only change to the Show is Barnes, but that’s only taunting words and mocking grins, trying to find an opening to fix the whole Hydra thing yourself.

You’d been planning for that time to be when you were alone, in your apartment with the Boy sitting on the counter as you worked, and Barnes far away. But the fracture of the bond leaves you weak at the end of the day and in a borderline catatonic state through the night. It’s starting to creep where the sun can see it. Where people—real people who exactly as much as they need to be, who don’t owe their entire minds and hearts and body as reparations for pretending to be alive—can see.

Barnes is starting to notice. You know he is. He sees when you stop typing for long minutes and just stare at the screen, your vision clouding and thoughts strangled by the pain around your head like a crown. When Grace says something and you flinch almost imperceptibly, because she’s so kind but you don’t deserve it, and her voice is like a drill into your skull.

He doesn’t say anything.

But you know sees it.

And that’s exactly what you’ve been smashing yourself apart and stitching yourself back together in order to avoid. He shouldn’t see you. Yet even now—in a large meeting with all the department heads giving their reports with words you don’t really understand anymore—you can feel Barnes watching you and seeing you. 

It’s so fucking dangerous. You’re fighting to keep yourself breathing, you’re about to black out and slump in your chair, and you feel sick—bile in your throat and bubbling in your gut and making your head light sick—but you can’t be weak where he can see it. 

You stand abruptly, giving clipped words you can’t hear that you’ll be back in a minute, that they should continue in your absence—because they don’t really need you, not this you, who’s weak and inconvenient and crumbling under nothing but herself—and leave the meeting. 

You’re being selfish. And useless. But it’s you can’t be there, where everyone is alive and the show is a struggle to keep up. You barely make it into the bathroom before you’re on your knees, and everything shatters. 

It tastes horrible, rocketing out of your throat and into the toilet bowl. Your vision dances with black spots, and you can’t hear beyond a pounding and screeching noise in your ears, can’t smell beyond what pushes itself out of your nose, but you just have to ride it out. It’s part of being you. Being too human, and that getting the better of you when anyone else could just get through it. 

It passes. It’s temporary, and it passes. You take a breath that’s not a sputtering—a desperate inhale to keep yourself conscious—and grip the cool porcelain of the toilet to stay upright, and it passes. There’s a little vomit lingering on your chin that you wipe off, the toilet flushes, and it’s as if nothing happened at all. 

Your legs are too shaky for you to return. Grace will be taking notes for you. And it’s nice in here, where there’s no one smile at or be pretending for. The air is cool, and the motion-sensor lights have turned off, so you think-

You’ll just stay here for a while. Just until you know that you can go back out without showing too much of yourself. 

It’s too quiet, so you pull out your phone and work from there. Just because you’re hiding like a weak, afraid little animal doesn’t mean you’re going to do nothing. You have to do something, or you’ll be even worse than you already are.

And as the time crawls on and your eyes start to weigh with sleep, you wonder if just turning to stone here would be permissible. They would have to remove you from the wall, or you could be decoration, and you’d be stealing less resources than you do now. They could pass you to Hydra with a clean conscious, or give up on protecting you because statues don’t need bodyguards. 

You’re already a statue, though. A husk. You’re already alone and hollow, and Sam only gave you a bodyguard because you’ve managed to trick in him into thinking you were worth it. You know you’re tricking him, and you’ve never told him that you’re worse than you appear, and that might make you worse than Hydra.

At least they don’t put on a show to be what they’re not. 

Maybe the fix would be to turn yourself over to them. It would save everyone a lot of time and effort, and Sam would be angry but he’d get over it, and Barnes-

Fuck.

You’d forgotten about Barnes. 

And almost as if on a perfect cue, the door is split open, and he crashed into the bathroom. The lights flick back on as he stops right above you, arms crossed and attention peeling you apart.

You don’t look up at him, keeping your eyes trained on your phone, even as your vision glazes over.

“That’s the second door you’ve broken.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

“Reading, I think.”

“You think-“

“Yep.”

There’s a long second of silence, before Barnes breaks it with a grunt.

“You always make people run your company without you, doll?”

There’s a seize over your heart. You ignore it. “Only every other Thursday.”

“It’s Friday.”

“Huh.” You shrug. “Oops.”

Barnes snorts, and you can’t stop your gaze from flicking up to him. 

He’s still annoyingly handsome. Still glaring at you with eyes that look silver in the too-white light of the bathroom, and you feel small again. Raw. Too human. More than you’re supposed to be where it’s visible. 

Barnes doesn’t flinch at it. That same odd look flashes in his eyes as he scans over you, and when he speaks again, he’s the only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears.

“Next time you need to do that,” he nods to the clean toilet. “Leave the door open, and I won’t have to break it.”

You blink at him. “Do-“

“Have a panic attack.” He grunts. “And fucking sleep tonight. You get mouthy when you don’t.”

And he just fucking turns and leaves. His words knock into you like a bullet, and he just walks away.

You don’t know how he keeps seeing you, when nobody is supposed to really, fully see you. Not all of you. Not past the fool’s gold you’ve turned yourself into, because then they leave. 

But Barnes is stuck here. Until Sam gives the clear, he won’t leave. It’s becoming annoyingly obvious that he won’t leave, Maybe that’s why he keeps driving right into parts of you that never see the sun. That only come out in the dead of night under stars or in pitch darkness. 

It’s probably some assistant secret you need to learn. Maybe a Hydra tactic you should familiarize yourself with, just in case. You rarely sleep, but you’ll just have to adjust the show to make him think you have. They aren’t panic attacks, but he’s too close to being right, and you’ll have to shift to match that as well. 

You just need to keep adapting. Rationalizing. 

Moving. 

You just need to keep moving, until Barnes stops trying to keep up with you.

You’re not sure what that will take.

But you’ll work it out. 

You will not let him be the thing that makes you bow. Makes you vulnerable. Makes you bend into him will, when you’ve scraped and screamed so loud to cut every leash you could off your body.

So you’ll just keep fucking moving.

——————

The past two weeks had been the longest, most confusing ones of Bucky’s life. 

Everyone liked Her. Adored Her. He’d heard nothing but genuine praise about how kind and sweet She was, and he didn’t get it. She was annoying. Beautiful and loud and smart-mouthed and annoying. She was making this as difficult as possible for him, on purpose, but everyone spoke about Her as if she was some sort of saint. 

If Bucky hadn’t been sure She was hiding something before, he was positive now. People who weren’t hiding things didn’t have carefully concealed bags under their eyes every morning. They didn’t spend their whole days in their offices, typing and reading and burying themselves where the world couldn’t see. 

People who weren’t hiding things didn’t shift in and out of masks every second. Smiling like an angel at everyone they passed and using big, quick words with an air of casual boredom, only to close the door and turn into almost a fire-spitting demon. 

But Bucky had  worked out that She was only shifting into that taunting, crude and mocking woman for him.

He also knew that it wasn’t the mask fully off. 

She’d only have it off in brief moments, when one of the suits or brittle old men would compliment Her, and her smile would flicker. When someone would thank Her, and that thing deep in her eyes would shift. Burst forward just long enough for Bucky to catch it, even when everyone else missed it. 

But that was what he did. He caught it, and threw it—loud and spitting—right back in Her face until something cracked. It was his passive plan of attack to make Her slip, and give him enough proof that She was up to something. Because no one could be truly this beautiful, truly this good, without it all being an act. 

In just two weeks, his log about Her had grown. She often spoke without thinking—or thinking too much, he couldn’t tell and that was jarring—and she always had something to say. Bucky had a feeling he could bring up any topic, and she’d have a pointless opinion. She took almost nothing seriously, but still got a harsh, almost brutal look of focus whenever she was working. She didn’t seem to believe She was better than everyone—people who did never turned into the shadow he’d often see flickering over her face and under her pretty features—but she did think she knew better. He could hear it in her voice, whenever she gave an order or direction, that there was no doubt of error.

He decided that was the reason why he’d relaxed when She’d told him to. She’d said it like an order, and he’d been a solider for so long that his body just reacted.  

It might be Her beauty, as well. She looked like shifting, shimmering light every single second, and if She’d ever stop sneering venom and making Bucky’s job impossible—his efforts doubled to try and see what She obviously didn’t want him to—She might have been attractive. Bucky might have tried to actually talk to Her, instead of tuning Her rambling and taunting out.

He was trying to tune it out.

It was harder than it should have been.

He really needed to revisit that inhuman beauty possibly caused by Hydra thing, when he had the time. It felt likely.

But he was spending too much time on Her pointless, annoying distractions. Trying not to beat himself to pieces on Her too crowded and hot and loud subways trips, trying to observe Her while still following his rule of don’t look too long.

Trying work out exactly what was eating at Her mind, what was wrong with Her that she never slept and would rub her skin like she was trying to wipe invisible grime off of it. What was causing those hitched breaths and momentarily panicked expressions, making Her breakdown on the bathroom floor when—as far as Bucky had been able to see—not a single damn thing had happened. 

It might be a guilty conscious. The knowledge that She was lying to all these people about whatever she was. 

And Bucky had yet to see a single friend of Her's. The closest he’d come was Her assistant, but that girl seemed to worship the ground She walked on, so her judgment was clouded. 

Just as Sam’s was.

Because whatever spell Her beauty and hauntingly beautiful voice was casting over people, it was keeping them from even thinking that she was capable of wrongdoing.

Bucky hadn’t dared to bring that up with Sam yet. Not until he had evidence of it. 

But he’d get that evidence. He’d finish this so that he could get the hell away from Her, and how She was taking up so much of his goddamn headspace.

He had to play his game almost every hour he was in Her presence. It was exhausting.

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. It was almost midnight on a Saturday, and the carpet in Her office was brown. He liked that She used the same password for everything, because it made this easier. He didn’t like that, when he looked through Her desk, it made her seem normal. That photos of a round black cat made him imagine Her pretty face with a wrinkled nose, and a cat on Her lap. That there were obvious pictures of people who had to be Her siblings, because they all had the same nose and undertones in their skin, hair, and eye colors. That She had a family. 

As did most people who weren’t a hundred.

And Bucky had living family. His sisters had ended up with kids, and they’d ended up with kids, and life had drifted around him in a way he’d never be able to catch and drag back.

It may have to go on without Her, for the people in those photos. If Bucky’s theory was right. 

He kept looking at the fucking photos. Her siblings didn’t have that thing behind their eyes. They all had nice, attractive features, but She was the only one who was inhumanly beautiful. Entrancing. Distracting.

He needed to look away from Her, and focus on what he was doing. Finding the evidence. This was about the evidence.

He wanted to find something, some blaring red flag that would prove what She was, that this was some kind of scam, that Bucky had been right to be weary of Her. That he was not—as Sam called him—a paranoid asshole. It wasn’t paranoia if he was right.

That was the easiest want he’d ever had.  

And he hadn’t found anything yet, but he would. Her computer may be clean, but it was a company computer. All Her files might be boring numbers and long, annotated paragraphs, but She probably didn’t keep a piece of paper that read I am Hydra in Her desk. She was smart. If Bucky could offer Her one piece of praise, it would be that She seemed to be genuinely intelligent. 

That just made Her more dangerous. She’d be careful, if She was Hydra. She’d know how to hide it, which was likely why She’d gotten away with it for so long. And She had to be something. Nothing would add up if She was just the lovely woman everyone found Her to be. Nobody was simply that good and kind. Bucky hadn’t met a single person who would dedicate their lives to something like this just for the sake of being good. He’d think it was for the paycheck, but if it was for the paycheck She wouldn’t be taking the subway. It could be the connections, but every time Sam had mentioned being Captain America at dinner, She’d rolled her pretty eyes.

The eyes that held the thing. The thing that meant She simply wasn’t what she was claiming to be. 

And Bucky might be coming up empty handed—he should’ve assumed he would, he never got what he wanted—but She wasn’t innocent. She couldn’t be. Sam wasn’t finding any more leads on Hydra—meaning it was probably an inside job—and She was too smart and kind and beautiful to not be some sort of Hydra-made plant meant to drive Bucky insane with pouting smiles and mocking glares and sharp words-

“What are you doing here.”

Bucky’s head shot up, and She was right there.

It was midnight. On a Saturday. Why was She in her office a midnight on a Saturday.

“Security.” He grunted, and it wasn’t his best excuse, but it wasn’t horrible.

She saw through it anyway. 

“What security are you doing in my desk, Barnes.” She crossed Her arms, and Bucky shrugged, moving around the desk to stand before Her.

“Cybersecurity is a thing, doll-“

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped, raising Her chin to hold Bucky’s gaze. She was better at it than Sam was, and it felt a little like he was being burned from the inside.

She had to be something.

“And tell me the truth.” She hissed. “Why the fuck are you in my office.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you-“

“You lied to me.”

“You got proof of that-“

“My cybersecurity is the most tight and well-designed in the world. Tony Stark made that computer, and it’s a prototype he didn’t want to scrap, so he gave it to me. It’s unhackable, because it’s not commutable to any other system. Truth.”

Bucky frowned at Her. “Is that why you use such a stupid fucking password for it-“

“Why do you know my password?” 

Fuck.

“I-“ 

“The truth.”

Bucky stared at Her, and he was caught. She’d found him snooping, and he’d—for some reason he had no way of understanding—slipped up and revealed he’d known her password. She’d work out that he’d likely used it. His hands were covered in—thankfully metaphorical—blood.

And the only way out of this was more of a gamble than he’d want to take.

But he needed something.

So he was all in. 

“I don’t trust you,” he hissed, leaning down until he could see every perfectly placed bump on Her face, every shift and swirl of that thing behind Her eyes. “That’s why. You’re too young to have this position, nothing in your files adds up, you’ve hunched in the bathroom all week. You’re hiding something. I know you’re hiding something. Could be something with Stark, could be Hydra-“

Her eyes widened slightly, Her voice suddenly void of any smooth, careful music. It was raw. Almost unnerving.

“You think I’m Hydra?” 

“I think,” Bucky snapped, and there was no going back now. “That you’re not just some rich, happy little angel. I think everything about you is a lie-“

She laughed. Loud and furious, and Bucky was shocked it didn’t shake the earth. 

“What part of my life, James, do you think is a lie?” She took a firm step forward, and Bucky could smell Her. She smelled like flowers. She looked like the wrath of god was alight in Her body. “Is it how I’m here?” She gestured around them to the office, holding Bucky’s gaze. “Did I blackmail someone? Make a threat? Sleep my way here? Did I do something unspeakable to make someone as smart as Tony Stark think a stupid little girl could run his company?”

She laughed, and the sound was almost frightening. Bucky felt like he’d been locked into place, and she just continued.

“Or is the lie how I’m Hydra? How the only superheroes I’ve ever met are the dumbass who took me in off the street and my very dead boss, and before this I was nobody, fucking nothing, but I still somehow managed to be important enough to become a Hydra plant? What would Hydra want we me, Barnes? My stunning charisma and winning personality, that’s so clearly been able to charm and fool you? Huh? Is that what I’m here for? Am I just pretty and sweet and trying to ensnare you into Hydra’s grasp? Am I just a fucking doll for them to use?”

She spat that word, doll, and Bucky flinched. Fucking flinched. Like She was something that could actually hurt him, and not just an angry girl in the dark.

His words were caught in his throat. She was watching him like he should be doing something, but Bucky was frozen as he just stared at Her.

He’d seen horrible things. Things of nightmares, and desolation, and haunting phantoms that lined his vision all the time. And he’d done worse. His hands would always be a little sticky, and every room would never be warm enough for the frost to truly fade.

But making Her shake slightly as he just stared at Her felt like the worst thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t. Not by far.

But it goddamn felt like it. It felt like a burning arrow through his throat, because he’d never seem someone just fall like that. Into anger and fear and venom, looking like a frightened, gnashing animal or feral beast he’d try to soothe, if that was something Bucky was capable of doing.

But he wasn’t.

So he just stared.

And She deflated. Turned hollow as all the fire went out from Her eyes, leaving of the weight of that thing.

“Tell Sam I’ll do the lockdown,” She muttered, not meeting Bucky’s eyes as she turned to the door. “You can say I bullied you into quitting, or stabbed you with a stapler. I don’t care.”

The door slammed, and Bucky was alone in the dark.

He’d been wrong.

And Sam was going to fucking kill him.

End Note: I'd say unstoppable force vs. immovable object, but they're both about to be very stoppable and movable. As always, thank you so so much for reading, and please leave any thoughts or feedback if you have them!

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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@dumbwhorestuff @biodegradable-glitter-fest @idontwannabehere78 @miss-marmalade @mgchaser

This is so cute

‘Buy you the world’- Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary: reader makes a purchase without reading the information, leading to a grave disappointment and a requirement for a comforting boyfriend - one that can’t control his laughter.

Warnings: pure fluff, soft!reader x soft!Jude. Based on a mistake I made today, this is very self indulgent

A/N : thanks for your patience on Part 7, here’s a treat while you wait <3

-

Having gone out to brunch today with your friends, you lay exhausted on the soft sofa in Jude’s apartment waiting for him to get back from his long day of training with the team.

One of your friends bought her very young sibling with her and accompanying them, lots of toys.

One that peaked your interest was a small, soft, light green crochet whale, and to make it better, it was lavender scented.

Supposedly it was meant to calm the young child down and provide emotional support, some of which you felt you needed, Deserved.

Being in a relationship with an incredibly handsome and popular footballer meant attention from the public, and attention meant hate.

You were used to it by now, your relationship never actually confirmed publicly but you had been spotted at games and the both of you had been seen sharing small touches and kisses in public.

Yourself and Jude decided that it wasn’t anyone else’s business and that you would take a more permanent soft launch approach, private but not secret.

You felt that it was fully justified if you bought yourself a little emotional support whale to calm your anxiety at matches and regarding the hate you did receive on social media, or so you told yourself.

Maybe you just wanted a little stuffed teddy bear, it was really cute after all.

So there you lay, sprawled out on the sofa with the open fire on in Jude’s lounge, a blanket on top of you and some cookies baking in the oven for ‘Jude when he gets back’.

Your laptop, the bottom slightly warm from being in use, perched on your stomach as you browse through the endless pages on Etsy, the search bar claiming ‘Small Crochet Whale’.

The expanse of choice would have stumped you, had you not been a student and therefore on a tight budget.

Jude, being the gentleman he is, always tried to treat you. Shower you with gifts and try giving you money whenever you’d go out with your friends, making it ‘his treat’.

The last thing you wanted to do, however, was make him think for a second that that’s what you were with him for, so of course you always declined.

Seeing the cheapest option, you clicked on the little light yellow whale, deciding it was fate in the sense that the colour matches Jude’s team.

You sign in to Etsy using your email before entering your PIN number from your card.

A large smile pulls across your face as you look at the large words written across your screen.

‘Order Confirmed, check email for further information’

You closed your laptop just as you hear the keys jingling in the door.

“Love? I’m home!” You hear Jude’s deep voice shout, his accent thick as the tiredness makes itself apparent.

“I’m here!” You call back to him, hearing his footsteps before seeing his face in front of you, leaning over the sofa.

He leans down towards you before pressing a kiss to your lips in some sort of Spider-man style given the position you two are in.

“How was your day?” You ask your boyfriend sweetly, pulling him round to sit on the now empty space on the sofa, after moving your legs into a crossed position and sitting up.

“It was okay, im just so tired” he says as he cups your face with his hand, the expanse of your cheek becoming slightly cold as his thumb brushes delicately over your cheek.

“Well luckily for you, I made cookies. Fancy one with a cup of tea?” You ask and instantly a smile is spread across his face.

“Do I ever tell you how much I love you?” He teases, his hand grabbing yours as you try to get up and walk to the kitchen, pulling you to stand between his legs as he spreads them slightly.

“No I don’t think so?” You tease sarcastically, lying through your teeth knowing full well he tells you any chance he gets.

“Well I Love you, so much” he says as he puts his hands on your hips and pulls you into him for a hug.

Eventually you pull away but pull him up as you do so.

“Come on, they should be done mister” you say to him and walk away leaving him trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

“Oi! Say it back!” He says as you laugh and begin to run towards the kitchen, hearing him follow you before you are scooped up into the air and span around as your boyfriend lifts you off your feet.

-

“You did what?” Jude laughs loudly, his half eaten cookie now being discarded on the little plate next to his mug of tea.

“I ordered a little whale” you say, a pout forming at your lips as you show him a screenshot of the whale plushie.

“Are you being serious? Why?” He laughs but he can’t help but melt slightly at the sight of you all pouty.

“It was cute, it smells of lavender, and it reminds me of you” you say smiling.

“Oi. Because it’s a whale it reminds you of me?” Jude says, dramatically slapping his hand to his chest in mock offence.

“No! You idiot” you laugh as you ball up a napkin and throw it at him.

He smiles at your laugh as he looks at you adoringly, loving that you care so much about a stupid little yellow whale.

-

Later on, the two of you lay in bed, the curtains firmly drawn shut as the day beings to fade out, the both of you scrolling through your phones, Jude occasionally showing you a tiktok he finds funny.

You decided to check your emails, checking when the whale will arrive.

You open the email to find the words: ‘download your order here’

Your brows furrow in confusion.

What did it mean, download your order?

You click download and open the file to see a tutorial on how to make a crochet whale, a step by step guide.

You shake your head slightly before opening Etsy on your phone.

You type in the same thing before finding the supplier you ordered from.

You click on the tab and read again to see that the thing you ordered, was a pattern and step-by-step guide.

Not a crochet baby whale.

Instantly, your eyes begin to sting with tears.

Not only with embarrassment but also disappointment. You weren’t going to get your plushie in the end but also you wasted your precious money, money which you worked over time, along with your studies to earn.

Upon hearing a slight sniffle, Jude instantly turns to look at you to make sure you’re okay.

Seeing a tear roll down your cheek, he immediately sits up to look at you.

“Love? What’s wrong?” He says as his thumb brushes away your tears gently.

“I didn’t order the actual whale” you sniff, “I offered a tutorial of how to make the whale”

Jude stares at you blankly as you look up at him with watery eyes.

His mouth twitched slightly as the skin around his eyes crease.

“Jude” and that’s all it takes.

Laughter immediately fills the room as your boyfriend throws his head back as chuckles rip through his body.

You stare at him blankly now, both taken off guard but not entirely surprised by his behaviour.

That still didn’t stop more tears from spilling out your eyes though.

“Oh baby I didn’t mean it” he says as he looks at you and pulls you into his chest, both arms wrapped around your frame.

“I’m so sad, I really wanted that whale” you say, your speech broken up by deep breaths.

“How could you be so naïve, for that price you were never going to get one?” Jude says, his voice sweet and dripping with love, no malice intended.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to save money” you say as you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Well you know I’d buy you the world, a whale won’t hurt” he says as he kisses your forehead leaving you drifting off to sleep with a smile.

-

A few days later, back at your own home, a parcel turns up at your door.

You take it back into your room before opening it.

Inside is a note reading: “I told you, I’d give you everything you want and more”

You smile before unwrapping the gift to find multiple crochet whales of all colours and sizes, a hint of lavender floating through the air.

-

Check my masterlist for more fics!!

Hope you guys love this little piece, please like, comment and reblog if you can. It means the world to have you here 🤍

This is such an adorable story 🥰

grumpy - op81

summary: oscar is always grumpy, never smiles and claims not to want any friends. yn is determined to crack his armor no matter how much he tries to push her away word count: 8.4k + social media posts

folkie radio: NEW LONG FIC !! i wrote the first bit of this fic a while ago and i picked it up and this was the result, i really hope you like it. let me know your thoughts

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Oscar didn't want to be at this party. The pulsing music, the crowd of unfamiliar faces, and the overwhelming sensory assault of flashing lights and laughter grated on his nerves. He stood in a corner, nursing a drink he hadn't really wanted, wondering how long he needed to stay before he could politely excuse himself.

Lando had been excited about this joint birthday celebration for weeks. He'd explained to Oscar that he'd reconnected with an old childhood friend who, by some cosmic coincidence, shared his exact birthdate. Oscar had been surprised when Lando told him about it; he'd never heard of this friend before. But then again, there was a lot about Lando's life outside of racing that Oscar didn't know.

Oscar's eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face. He spotted Lando in the center of a laughing group, his arm slung casually around a girl Oscar assumed must be the co-host of this ridiculously extravagant party.

He couldn't recall if Lando had ever shown him a picture of this mysterious childhood friend. The invitations Lando had sent out mentioned her name - YN - but Oscar had paid little attention to the details. Racing consumed most of his thoughts, and social events like this were far from his priority list.

The girl standing next to Lando was pretty, Oscar noted absently, with an easy smile that seemed to light up those around her. She laughed at something Lando said, throwing her head back in genuine laughter. Oscar found himself wondering if this was the famed YN, but he couldn't be sure. There were so many people here, and Lando seemed to know them all.

Lost in his observations and internal musings, Oscar didn't notice someone approaching until a voice piped up beside him. "Not much for parties, huh?"

Lost in his observations and internal thoughts, Oscar didn't notice someone approaching until a voice piped up beside him. "Not much for parties, huh?"

He turned to find another girl standing next to him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She was attractive too, he couldn't help but notice, with flowing hair and a smile that seemed genuine rather than the forced pleasantries he was used to at such events.

Oscar shrugged, not particularly in the mood for small talk. "Not really my scene," he replied, his tone cooler than the drink in his hand.

He glanced back at Lando and the girl he was with, then back to the newcomer. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if this might be YN, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Surely, the birthday girl would be at the center of attention, not chatting up grumpy partygoers in the corner.

The girl, not minding his frosty response, leaned against the wall next to him. "I get that. These big bashes can be overwhelming. But hey, the night's still young, right? Maybe it'll grow on you."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Doubtful. I'm only here because Lando insisted."

"Oh?" the girl prompted, seeming genuinely interested despite Oscar's clear lack of enthusiasm. "You're friends with Lando then?"

"Teammates," Oscar corrected, taking a sip of his drink. "In Formula 1."

"That must be exciting!" the girl's eyes lit up, "I've always been fascinated by racing. The speed, the strategy, the teamwork… it's like a high-stakes chess game on wheels."

Despite himself, Oscar felt a flicker of interest. It wasn't often he met someone outside the racing world who seemed to genuinely appreciate the sport. But he squashed the feeling, determined to maintain his grumpy demeanor.

"It's just a job," he said flatly. "Not all it's cracked up to be."

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" the girl laughed, the sound warm and melodious. "Do you know the birthday girl, by the way?"

Oscar's frown deepened at the mention of the birthday girl.

"No, and honestly, I couldn't care less," he said bluntly. "I'm just here for Lando. In fact, I'm seriously considering leaving already. This whole thing is just… too much."

The girl's eyebrows raised slightly, but her smile didn't falter. "Oh? What makes you say that?"

Oscar, emboldened by the anonymity he assumed he had with this stranger, decided to let loose. "Where do I even start? First off, this music is atrocious. It's just noise. Who even picked this playlist?"

"Not a fan of pop, I take it?" the girl chuckled, shaking her head.

"Not when it's blasting at eardrum-shattering levels," Oscar grumbled. He gestured around the room. "And look at all these people. Half of them probably don't even know Lando or this girl. It's just a crowd of random people here for the free drinks and the chance to rub elbows with a Formula 1 driver."

The girl nodded, her eyes twinkling with what Oscar failed to recognize as suppressed laughter. "I see. Anything else bothering you?"

Oscar was on a roll now.

"It's probably all because of this other girl who thought it would be a brilliant idea to have a joint birthday party with a Formula 1 driver. I mean, who does that? It's like she's using Lando for the publicity or something, because I've been Lando's teammate for a year and I've never heard of her util now. This whole thing is over the top. The decorations look like a McLaren gift shop exploded in here. And don't get me started on that ridiculous cake I saw earlier."

Throughout Oscar's rant, the girl beside him simply listened, nodding occasionally and biting her lip as if trying not to laugh. When he finally paused for breath, she said, "Wow, you've really given this a lot of thought. It must be tough, being surrounded by all this… excess."

Oscar sighed, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish about his outburst. "I just… I don't get it, you know? Why make such a big deal out of a birthday?"

The girl's smile softened. "Maybe because birthdays are worth celebrating? Especially when you can share them with friends – old and new."

Before Oscar could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the party. "YN! There you are! It's time for the cake!"

Oscar's head snapped up to see Lando weaving through the crowd, heading straight for them. His eyes widened as realization dawned, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief washing over him.

The girl – YN – turned back to Oscar, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Duty calls," she said with a wink. "It was nice chatting with you, Oscar. Thanks for your honest feedback on my terrible music taste, my excessive decorations, and my 'brilliant' idea to share a birthday party with my childhood friend. Maybe next time you're at a party, try to enjoy it a little? You might be surprised."

As YN walked away to join Lando, leaving Oscar rooted to the spot, he couldn't help but feel a wave of mortification wash over him. He had just spent the better part of an hour criticizing various aspects of the party to one of the hosts herself. And not just any host – Lando's childhood friend, the girl whose birthday they were also celebrating.

Oscar watched as YN and Lando made their way to the center of the room, where the enormous cake he had mocked earlier was being wheeled out.

As YN and Lando took their places in front of the extravagant cake, the crowd began to gather around them to sing Happy Birthday. Oscar, still reeling from his embarrassing revelation, found himself shuffling closer to the center of the room, trying to blend in with the crowd.

As the song concluded, Lando stepped forward, raising a hand to quiet the crowd. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice filled with warmth and excitement.

"Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate with us," Lando started, grinning widely. "YN and I have known each other since we were kids, and it's always been a bit of a joke between us that we share a birthday. Who would've thought we'd end up throwing a joint party like this years later?" He paused as the crowd chuckled. "YN, you've been an amazing friend all these years, and I'm so glad we reconnected. Here's to many more birthdays together!"

The crowd applauded as Lando raised his glass in a toast. Then, to Oscar's mounting dread, Lando handed the microphone to YN.

YN took the mic with a smile, her eyes scanning the room before landing on Oscar. He swallowed hard, wondering if she was about to call him out in front of everyone.

"Thanks, Lando," YN began, her voice warm and filled with amusement. "And thank you all for being here tonight. It means so much to see so many familiar faces… and some new ones too." Her eyes twinkled as she glanced at Oscar again. "You know, planning this party was quite an adventure. We wanted to make sure everyone would enjoy themselves… well, almost everyone."

Oscar felt his face grow hot as a few people near him chuckled, clearly not realizing the jab was directed at him.

"And now, let's cut into this 'ridiculous' cake I picked out. After that, feel free to enjoy more of our apparently ear-shattering music. Who knows? It might just grow on you!"

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 109,847 others

yourinstagram when you share your birthday with your childhood bestie who happens to be an f1 driver… you go BIG or go home! thank you @/landonorris for the most incredible joint celebration ever! from the "atrocious" music to the "ridiculous" cake, every moment was perfect 😉 and thanks to everyone who came - even those who stayed in the corner judging my party planning skills. here's to another year of chaos!

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username1 SLAAAAY

username2 omg lando celebrated BIG this year

landonorris Best joint birthday ever! Thank you for being one of my best friends ever

charles_leclerc The music was actually great! Don't listen to the haters

username3 I NEED TO PARTY WITH LANDOOOO

username4 imagine being lando's childhood friend and sharing your birthday with him THE DREAM

iamrebeccad That cake was anything but ridiculous! Still dreaming about it 🎂

username6 why do I feel like there's a story behind those quotation marks…

username7 Still can't believe you pulled this off! Best birthday party ever!

username8 there's an inside joke we're missing

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Oscar was making his way through the paddock when he spotted her. YN was chatting with Lando near the McLaren garage, wearing team merchandise and looking completely at ease in an environment that was supposed to be his territory. His stomach did an uncomfortable flip - a reaction he immediately attributed to embarrassment from their last encounter, nothing more.

He quickly turned around, hoping to avoid another interaction. The last thing he needed before qualifying was to be reminded of how he'd made a complete fool of himself at that party. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

"Oscar!" Lando's voice called out. "Come here, mate!"

Oscar suppressed a groan, plastering what he hoped was a neutral expression on his face as he approached them. YN turned to face him, that same amused smile from the party playing on her lips. He hated how his heart skipped a beat - clearly just residual embarrassment, he assured himself.

"Hey, grumpy," she greeted cheerfully. "Ready for qualifying?"

Oscar's jaw tightened. Something about her easy demeanor, the way she seemed so unfazed by their previous interaction, irritated him. Or maybe what really irritated him was how much he'd thought about that interaction over the past two weeks.

"Just focused on the session," he replied curtly, trying to ignore the way her eyes seemed to see right through his cold exterior.

"YN's going to be hanging around this weekend," Lando explained, either oblivious to or ignoring the tension. "I thought it'd be cool to show her around."

Great, Oscar thought. Just what he needed - another distraction. He'd caught himself checking her Instagram more times than he cared to admit since the party, telling himself he was just curious about what she'd posted about that night. The fact that he'd spent an embarrassing amount of time looking at her other photos was something he refused to analyze.

"How exciting," Oscar deadpanned. "The glamorous world of Formula 1. I'm sure you'll love all the noise and chaos."

YN's smile didn't falter. "Oh, I don't mind noise when it has a purpose. Race car engines are quite different from 'atrocious' party music, wouldn't you agree?"

Oscar felt his cheeks warm at the reference to his party complaints. The memory of that night had been replaying in his head for two weeks - how she'd stood there letting him rant, those knowing eyes twinkling with amusement. How different would things have been if he'd known who she was from the start? Would he have actually tried to enjoy himself? Would he not think about his ex for half of the night?

Because that was his reality, he thought about his ex more than he cared to admit that he did.

"I should go prepare for qualifying," he muttered, turning to leave, trying to escape both her presence and his confusing thoughts.

"Wait," YN called after him. "I actually wanted to apologize."

This made Oscar pause, turning back with a confused frown. "Apologize?" His heart was doing that annoying skipping thing again.

"Yes," she nodded. "I should have introduced myself properly at the party instead of letting you vent. It was a bit mean to let you go on like that without telling you who I was."

Her sincerity caught him off guard. He'd spent two weeks convinced she must think he was a complete jerk, and here she was apologizing to him? It didn't make sense. None of this made sense - including the way his pulse quickened when she smiled at him.

"Right. Well, no harm done. If you'll excuse me…" He needed to get away. Now. Before these unwanted feelings got any more confused.

"I made you a playlist," YN continued, her eyes twinkling. "All non-atrocious songs, I promise. Thought it might help with your pre-race preparation."

She held out her phone, showing a Spotify playlist titled "For Grumpy F1 Drivers Who Hate Fun." The fact that she'd taken the time to make him a playlist, even as a joke, did something strange to his chest.

Lando burst out laughing. "Oh mate, she's got you there!"

Oscar stared at the playlist, his expression hardening. The championship battle was too tight, the pressure too intense for these kinds of distractions. They were so close to securing the constructor's championship. He couldn't afford to let anything break his focus, especially not some girl who seemed determined to get under his skin.

"I don't need a playlist," he said, his voice sharper than before. "What I need is to focus on qualifying. We're fighting for a championship here. This isn't some game."

YN's smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Right, of course. The championship."

"Yeah, the championship," Oscar continued, his tone cold and professional. "Something that requires actual focus and dedication, not parties and playlists. So if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Oscar, mate," Lando started, looking uncomfortable, but Oscar cut him off.

"No, Lando. You might be comfortable mixing your personal life with racing, but I'm not. I'm here to win, not to socialize." He turned to YN, his expression neutral but his eyes hard. "Enjoy your weekend at the track."

He turned and walked away, his steps quick and purposeful. Behind him, he could hear Lando apologizing to YN, but he forced himself not to care.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Oscar sat on the edge of his hotel bed, his phone illuminated with photos he should have deleted months ago. Lily's smile beamed back at him through the screen - holidays in Melbourne, race weekends, quiet moments at home. Four years of memories he couldn't seem to let go of.

"This is pathetic," he muttered, tossing his phone aside. The Vegas skyline glittered beyond his window, a stark contrast to his dark mood. The text from Lando about the drivers' party at some upscale club sat unanswered on his phone.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling the familiar weight of loneliness settle in his chest. Lily had ended things right before the season started, claiming she couldn't handle the distance anymore. The truth was, she'd found someone else - someone who wasn't away racing cars most of the year.

The thought of sitting alone in his hotel room on a Saturday night in Las Vegas, scrolling through old photos of his ex, made him cringe. Even Alex, who usually preferred quiet nights after races, was going to the party.

"Fuck it," he declared to his empty room, standing up abruptly. He'd rather feel uncomfortable at a party than feel sorry for himself.

The club was exactly as he expected - loud, crowded, and dripping with excess. He spotted several drivers immediately: Lewis holding court in a VIP section, Max and Kelly laughing with Charles, Alex and George arguing about something while Franco watched in amusement.

Then he saw her. YN was wearing a silver dress that caught the light, making her look like she belonged among the glittering Vegas lights. She was chatting with Lando and Carlos, her head thrown back in laughter at something Carlos had said.

Oscar ordered a drink and found a quiet corner, trying to ignore the way his eyes kept drifting back to her. Their last interaction in the paddock hadn't been great - he'd been cold, dismissive. Yet here she was, seemingly unbothered, lighting up the room with that easy smile of hers.

"Didn't expect to see you here," her voice suddenly came from beside him. He hadn't noticed her approach.

"I live to surprise," he replied flatly, taking a sip of his drink.

YN leaned against the wall next to him, mirroring their positions from her birthday party. "You look about as thrilled to be here as you did at my party."

"If you've come to mock me again-"

"I haven't," she cut him off, her voice gentle. "I actually came to see if you're okay. You seem… different tonight."

Oscar tensed. Was he that transparent? "I'm fine."

"You know, it's okay not to be okay sometimes," she said softly. "Even Formula 1 drivers are allowed to have bad days."

He looked at her then, really looked at her. There was no trace of mockery in her expression, just genuine concern. It made something in his chest ache.

"I don't need your pity," he said, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

"Good, because I'm not offering any," YN replied. "I'm offering friendship. Or at least a dance partner who won't judge your moves too harshly."

Despite himself, Oscar felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "My moves are fine."

"Prove it then," she challenged, pushing off the wall and holding out her hand.

Oscar stared at her outstretched hand, feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket - the one still full of photos of Lily. He thought about his empty hotel room, about scrolling through memories of a relationship that was long over.

"I don't dance," he said finally, his tone cooling again. "And I'm not interested in whatever this is."

YN's hand dropped slowly, but her eyes remained kind. "Okay," she said simply. "But if you change your mind about either - the dancing or the friendship - I'll be around."

She turned to leave, pausing only to add, "You deserve to be happy, Oscar. Even if you don't believe it right now."

Oscar watched her disappear into the crowd, his drink suddenly tasting bitter in his mouth. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over his photo gallery. After a moment's hesitation, he opened his settings instead.

"Delete all photos?" the prompt asked.

He pressed yes before he could change his mind.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,958 others

f1gossip SWIPE to see Lily Zneimer (Oscar Piastri's ex) hard-launching her new relationship! 👀 After 4 years with the McLaren driver, she's officially moved on. Lily shared multiple pics on her Instagram with the caption "Finally found my perfect match ❤️"

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username1 the way she waited until oscar had a good race weekend to post this… calculated af 💀

username2 "perfect match" girl you dated an f1 driver… downgrade much?

username3 anyone else notice she limited her comments? 👀 guilty conscience maybe??

username4 oscar deserves better anyway, he's so focused this season!

username5 well this explains why oscar's been in his villain era all season

username6 her loss tbh oscar's having his best season yet

username7 the way she's trying to make it seem like they just met… girl we all saw you commenting on his posts since last year 🙄

username8 imagine breaking up with oscar piastri… couldn't be me

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Monaco streets were quieter than usual at 6 AM, which was exactly why Oscar had chosen this time for his run. His feet pounded against the pavement in rhythm with the aggressive beats flooding his headphones, trying to drown out the thoughts of Lily's Instagram post that had been haunting him since last night.

Perfect match. The words echoed in his head, mocking him. Four years, and she'd replaced him so easily.

He pushed himself harder, taking the hill towards Casino Square at a punishing pace. The physical exertion wasn't enough to quiet his mind, but at least-

"Oscar!"

He ignored the voice, assuming it was meant for someone else.

"Oscar! Hey!"

The voice was closer now. Persistent. Familiar. He yanked out one earbud, turning around with an irritated scowl that only deepened when he saw who it was. YN was jogging towards him, wearing running gear and looking annoyingly fresh despite the steep incline.

"What the fuck?" he snapped when she caught up. "Are you following me now?"

YN raised an eyebrow, barely winded. "Don't flatter yourself, Piastri. I was already running when I spotted you."

"You don't even live here." His heart was racing, and he told himself it was just from the run.

"Staying with Lando," she shrugged, falling into step beside him despite his obvious displeasure. "He's got a spare room."

Oscar stopped abruptly, turning to face her. The morning sun caught her face in a way that made her eyes look impossibly bright. He pushed that observation away immediately. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Running?"

"This," he gestured between them, frustration evident in his voice. "Being… nice. Showing up everywhere. Trying to talk to me. I don't like you, okay? I don't want to be friends. I don't want whatever this is."

YN studied him for a moment, completely unfazed by his hostility. "You know, for someone who doesn't like me, you spend an awful lot of energy trying to convince me of that fact."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she said, stretching her arms above her head casually, "that if you really didn't like me, you wouldn't care enough to tell me repeatedly. You'd just ignore me."

The logic in her statement irritated him more than her presence. She had a point, but he'd rather run up this hill ten more times than admit it.

"I prefer running alone," he said flatly, trying to ignore how his stomach did a weird flip when she smiled at him.

"Cool. Me too, usually." She grinned. "But sometimes life throws you unexpected running partners. Kind of like unexpected friendships."

"We're not friends."

"Not yet," she agreed cheerfully. "Race you to the casino?"

Before he could protest, she took off up the hill, her ponytail swinging with each stride. Oscar stood there for a moment, torn between irritation and something else he refused to name. The morning light cast long shadows across the street, and he watched her figure getting smaller as she climbed the hill.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, but his feet were already moving, chasing after her up the winding street.

He told himself it was just his competitive nature, that he couldn't let her win. It had nothing to do with how her presence somehow made his chest feel lighter, or how the morning felt less lonely with her there.

They reached Casino Square nearly neck and neck, both breathing hard. The square was empty except for a few early morning workers, the famous casino building looming above them in the soft morning light.

"Not bad, Piastri," YN panted, hands on her knees. "But I totally had you on that last corner."

"You cut me off," he accused, trying to catch his breath.

"Did not! I took the racing line," she grinned, mimicking his Australian accent on the last two words.

Despite himself, a laugh escaped Oscar's lips before he could stop it.

YN's eyes lit up triumphantly. "There! You laughed!" She pointed at him accusingly. "You actually laughed! Quick, someone alert the press - Oscar Piastri has emotions other than grumpy and grumpier!"

Oscar immediately tried to school his features back into their usual scowl, but he could feel the corners of his mouth fighting to turn upward. "Shut up," he muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

"Make me," she challenged, starting to jog backwards. "Come on, one more lap around Monaco? Unless you're scared I'll beat you again…"

Oscar felt something shift in his chest, a crack in the walls he'd built so carefully. He blamed it on the endorphins from running, on the early morning air, on anything but the way her smile made him want to smile back.

"In your dreams," he called out, already moving to chase after her.

And if he was smiling as they ran through the empty streets of Monaco, well, there was no one else around to see it anyway.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

YN burst through Lando's front door, still riding the runner's high from her morning excursion. She found him in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and hunched over a cup of coffee, his hair sticking up in every direction.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

"Why are you so… awake?" Lando groaned, squinting at her. "It's inhuman."

"Guess who I ran into?" She hopped onto the kitchen counter, grinning. "Your grumpy teammate. And - wait for it - I actually made him laugh!"

Lando's spoon clattered against his mug. "Oscar? Laughed?"

"I know, right? I mean, it was more like a surprised laugh that he tried to take back immediately, but still. Progress!" She took a long drink of water. "I don't get why he's so… intense all the time. Like, I know F1 drivers are serious, but he takes it to another level."

Lando's expression shifted, something like concern crossing his face. "Ah, right. You don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"About the breakup."

YN stopped mid-sip. "Breakup?"

Lando set his coffee down, suddenly looking more awake. "His girlfriend - well, ex-girlfriend now - Lily. They were together for four years. She ended things right before the season started."

"Oh," YN said quietly, her earlier enthusiasm deflating. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, it was…" Lando ran a hand through his already messy hair. "It was pretty rough. They had this whole life planned out, you know? She moved to Monaco for him when he got the McLaren seat. They were talking about getting married eventually."

"What happened?"

"She met someone else," Lando said grimly. "Some business guy in Sydney or something. Oscar found out when he got back from winter training. She'd already moved her stuff out."

YN felt her stomach sink. "That's horrible."

"Yeah. And the worst part? She posted about her new relationship yesterday. All these loved-up photos, calling the guy her 'perfect match' and everything." Lando shook his head. "Oscar saw it last night. That's probably why he was out running so early."

"Shit," YN whispered, remembering how she'd teased him about being grumpy. "I feel awful now. I've been giving him such a hard time about being antisocial."

"You didn't know," Lando assured her. "And honestly? You getting him to laugh is kind of huge. He's been… different since it happened. Throws himself into racing, barely socializes. The only time I see him smile is on podiums."

YN thought about Oscar's surprised laugh in Casino Square, how quickly he'd tried to hide it. "Four years is a long time."

"Yeah," Lando agreed. "And they were good together, you know? Or we all thought they were. She was at every race, knew everyone in the paddock. When she left…" He trailed off, taking a sip of coffee. "Let's just say there's a reason he keeps people at arm's length now."

YN slid off the counter, her earlier victory feeling hollow now. "I should probably back off then. Give him space."

Lando looked at her thoughtfully. "Actually… maybe don't?"

"What?"

"It's just…" Lando set his mug down, choosing his words carefully. "That was the first time you've mentioned him laughing since January. Maybe what he needs isn't more space. Maybe he needs someone who won't let him push them away."

YN thought about Oscar's determined scowl that morning, how it had softened just slightly when she'd challenged him to another lap. "I don't know, Lando…"

"Just… be yourself," Lando suggested. "You've already cracked the grumpy exterior once. And Oscar… he's a good guy. He just needs to remember there's more to life than proving his ex wrong."

YN nodded slowly, her mind going back to their morning run. She thought about the way Oscar had tried not to smile, how his eyes had lit up during their race to the casino despite his best efforts to remain stoic.

"Okay," she said finally. "But if he murders me for being annoying, I'm haunting you first."

Lando grinned. "Deal. Now please tell me you're making those pancakes you promised yesterday."

"Only if you tell me more about this grumpy teammate of yours."

"Oh, I've got stories," Lando laughed. "Let me tell you about the time he got lost in Singapore…"

As YN moved around Lando's kitchen gathering pancake ingredients, she couldn't help but think about Oscar, wondering if he was still running through the streets of Monaco, trying to outrun memories of a relationship that had shaped the last four years of his life.

She understood his coldness better now, but somehow, that only made her more determined to break through it.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,983 others

f1gossip SPOTTED: Oscar Piastri jogging around Monaco with mysterious girl ! Sources say they were laughing and racing each other around 👀

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username1 OHHHH

username2 WHO IS THIS

username3 oscar healing era we love to see it

username4 isn't this lando's friend? the one he shares the same bday with

userame5 THIS IS YNNNN lando's bday twin

username6 OSC BOYFRIEND ERA AGAIN??

username7 cry lily zneimer

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Oscar stared at his phone screen, the message he'd sent to Lily still showing just one gray checkmark. Not delivered. He'd blocked her months ago, but last night, in a moment of weakness (and perhaps too much room service wine), he'd unblocked her number.

"I hope you're happy," he'd texted. Four simple words that made him feel pathetic now in the harsh light of day.

Of course she'd changed her number. Of course she hadn't responded. What had he expected? That she'd suddenly remember all their plans, their shared dreams, their life in Monaco? That she'd realize her Sydney finance dude wasn't her "perfect match" after all?

He tossed his phone onto the hotel bed, disgusted with himself. Four years of his life, and here he was, still orbiting around her like a satellite that didn't know its planet had disappeared. The worst part was, he wasn't even sure if he still loved her or if he was just haunted by the future they'd planned.

The Qatar paddock was already buzzing with activity when he arrived, the air conditioning doing little to combat the oppressive heat. He had an engineering briefing in ten minutes, and he needed to focus on the race weekend, not on unanswered texts to ex-girlfriends.

Then he spotted her. YN was chatting animatedly with Carlos near the Ferrari garage, wearing a McLaren team shirt that he suspected was Lando's. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she was gesturing enthusiastically about something, making Carlos laugh. She looked so at ease, so comfortable in this world that had taken him years to navigate.

Oscar immediately turned around, hoping to duck into the McLaren hospitality without being noticed.

"Oscar!"

No such luck.

He kept walking, pretending he hadn't heard her. The sound of quick footsteps behind him told him his escape attempt had failed.

"Hey, grumpy!" YN fell into step beside him, seemingly unbothered by his obvious attempt to avoid her. "Still maintaining your daily scowl quota, I see."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he asked coldly, not slowing his pace.

"Probably. But bothering you is much more fun." She grinned, matching his stride effortlessly. "You know, most people say good morning when they see someone."

"I'm not most people. We're not anything."

"Still stuck on that 'we're not friends' thing? Even after our romantic morning run in Monaco?"

He tensed, acutely aware of the heads turning in their direction. Since their morning run in Monaco, social media had been buzzing with speculation. F1 fan accounts had somehow gotten hold of a blurry photo of them running through Casino Square, and the paddock rumor mill had been working overtime. The last thing he needed was more fuel for those fires, especially not when his embarrassing text to Lily was still fresh in his mind.

"Stop," he cut her off, pulling them both to a halt in a quieter section of the paddock. "This needs to stop."

"What needs to stop?"

"This. You. Being everywhere." His voice was low, controlled, but inside he was a mess of conflicting emotions. The ghost of his unanswered text message haunted him, making him feel vulnerable and defensive. "People are talking. They saw us in Monaco."

YN's smile faltered slightly, but her eyes remained kind. "And? We went for a run. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime."

"You don't get it," he said, frustration seeping into his tone. "I don't need this right now. I don't need people speculating or making assumptions." I don't need to feel things I'm not ready to feel, he added silently.

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Are you afraid your ex might see?"

The question hit too close to home, especially after his pathetic attempt at reaching out to Lily. His jaw clenched. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you're letting someone who left you control your life," YN said quietly, her words cutting through his defenses with surgical precision. "I know you're so afraid of getting hurt again that you'd rather push everyone away."

"Don't," he warned, his voice sharp. "You don't get to analyze me. You don't get to act like you understand anything about my life just because Lando told you some story." The fact that she could read him so easily only made him more defensive.

"I'm not-"

"We're not friends," he continued, his words precise and cutting. "That morning in Monaco was a mistake. I was…" Vulnerable, lonely, weak. "…it doesn't matter. Just stay away from me."

He turned to leave, his phone feeling like a lead weight in his pocket, the unanswered text message a reminder of everything he was trying to forget.

"You know what I think?" YN called after him, her voice carrying across the paddock. "I think you're not actually afraid of what she might see. I think you're afraid of what might happen if you stop letting her ghost rule your life. And you know what the saddest part is? You're so focused on pushing people away, you don't even notice who's trying to stay."

Oscar didn't turn around, but his shoulders tensed. Her words hit home with devastating accuracy, making his chest tight. Without another word, he walked away, leaving YN standing alone in the sweltering Qatar heat.

But as he headed into the briefing, YN's words kept playing in his mind: "You're so focused on pushing people away, you don't even notice who's trying to stay."

The worst part was, he was starting to wonder if she was right.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private jet hummed quietly as they crossed over Saudi airspace. Oscar kept fidgeting with his phone, refreshing Instagram for the tenth time in as many minutes. Another photo of Lily, another glimpse of her perfect new life without him.

"If you stare at that screen any harder, it might actually burst into flames," YN's voice cut through his thoughts.

Oscar locked his phone quickly, jaw tightening. "Mind your own business."

From across the aisle, Lando pretended to be absorbed in his game, but Oscar could see him watching their interaction from the corner of his eye.

"Want to talk about it?" YN asked softly, closing her book.

"No."

"Want to keep brooding dramatically while pretending you're not stalking your ex's Instagram?"

Oscar's head snapped up. "I'm not-"

"You've refreshed that page twelve times in the last hour. I've been counting."

"Why are you even watching me?"

"Hard not to when you're sighing like a sad protagonist in a period drama."

Despite himself, Oscar felt the corner of his mouth twitch. YN caught it immediately.

"Was that almost a smile? Quick, Lando, document this rare occurrence!"

"Leave me out of this," Lando mumbled, though he was clearly fighting back a grin.

Oscar tried to maintain his scowl, but YN's theatrical gasping was making it difficult. "You're ridiculous."

"And you," she pointed at him, "are coming out with me tomorrow night."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you need to get out of your hotel room, and I know for a fact you don't have any plans besides rewatching her stories and making yourself miserable."

"I don't-"

"You know what?" YN continued, leaning forward in her seat. "We're going to that new rooftop bar at the W. You're going to wear something that isn't team gear, you're going to have at least two drinks, and you're going to remember what it's like to actually enjoy yourself."

"And if I say no?"

"You won't," she said confidently. "Because deep down, you know I'm right. Also, I've already told Lando he's coming too."

"Traitor," Oscar muttered at his teammate.

Lando shrugged. "She's very persuasive. Also, slightly terrifying."

"So?" YN raised an eyebrow at Oscar. "What's it going to be? Another night of Instagram stalking, or actually living your life?"

Oscar looked between her determined face and his phone, still dark in his hand. The thought of another night alone with his thoughts was suddenly exhausting.

"Fine," he said finally. "But I'm not dancing."

"We'll see about that," YN grinned triumphantly. "Now, hand over your phone."

"What? No."

"Yes. Consider it confiscated until we land. Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"No, but I am your friend, whether you like it or not. Phone. Now."

Maybe it was the altitude, or the way she said 'friend' so matter-of-factly, or just the sheer exhaustion of maintaining his walls, but Oscar found himself holding out his phone.

"Just until we land," he warned.

"Of course," YN agreed, tucking it into her bag. "Now, want to hear about the time I accidentally locked Lando in his own garage?"

"That was YOU?" Lando's head shot up from his game.

"In my defense, I thought you were already at the track…"

As YN launched into the story, Oscar felt something in his chest loosen slightly. He wasn't ready to admit it yet, but maybe - just maybe - she had a point about living his life again.

"…and that's why Lando now triple-checks every door before closing it," YN finished, making Lando groan.

"I knew it wasn't a 'random malfunction,'" he accused.

Oscar found himself actually laughing, the sound surprising even himself.

"There it is," YN said softly, her eyes meeting his. "That's the guy I'm taking out tomorrow night."

And for once, Oscar didn't argue.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lando and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Oscar stood in front of his hotel mirror, already regretting the black button-down shirt he'd chosen. His phone buzzed with a message from Lando: "Sorry mate, stomach's not great. Going to skip tonight. You two have fun ;)"

The winky face made Oscar's jaw clench. He immediately typed back: "Not going if you're not."

Lando's reply was instant: "Yes you are. YN will murder me if you bail."

As if on cue, there was a knock at his door. Oscar considered pretending he wasn't in, but-

"I can hear you overthinking from out here, Piastri!" YN's voice carried through the door. "Open up!"

Sighing, he opened the door to find her leaning against the frame, wearing a simple black dress that made him suddenly very aware of his heartbeat.

"Lando's not coming," he said immediately.

"I know, he texted me." She stepped into his room uninvited. "We're still going."

"I don't think-"

"Nope," she cut him off. "You're not bailing. You're dressed, you look nice, and I'm not letting you spend another night hiding in your room."

"I don't hide-"

"Your Instagram search history would disagree." She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. "Come on, one drink. If you're still miserable after that, you can come back and brood in peace."

Something about the way she said it - teasing but kind - made it hard to argue. "One drink," he conceded.

The rooftop bar at the W was busy but not crowded, the Abu Dhabi skyline glittering around them. They found a quiet corner with a view of the water.

"See? Not so terrible," YN said, sliding into her seat.

Oscar had to admit the view was spectacular. "It's alright."

"Such high praise! Should I alert the media?"

He tried to maintain his scowl but failed. "You're impossible."

"Yet here you are," she grinned. "Now, what are you drinking?"

Two hours later, they were walking along the waterfront, their earlier drinks having taken the edge off Oscar's usual guardedness. The night air was warm but pleasant, and the city lights reflected off the water like stars.

"No way," Oscar laughed - actually laughed - at YN's story. "You did not steal Lando's car."

"I didn't steal it! I borrowed it. There's a difference."

Oscar shook his head, still chuckling. "You're chaos."

"Better than being predictable," she shrugged, bumping his shoulder playfully. "Speaking of which, you know what I noticed?"

"What?"

"You haven't checked your phone once tonight."

Oscar realized she was right. He hadn't even thought about Lily since they'd left the hotel. "I guess I was… distracted."

"By my sparkling personality and amazing stories?"

"By your criminal tendencies, apparently."

YN stopped walking, turning to face him. "You know what else I noticed?"

"What?"

"You're smiling. Like, actually smiling. Not that fake media smile you do, but a real one."

Oscar felt his defenses start to rise, but YN continued before he could retreat.

"And the world didn't end," she said softly. "You had fun, you laughed, and somehow life went on."

He looked out at the water, processing her words. "It's not… it's not that simple."

"No, it's not," she agreed. "But it's a start." She turned to face the water too, standing close enough that their arms brushed. "You know what your problem is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"You're so afraid of getting hurt again that you're missing out on all the good stuff. The random nights like this, the unexpected friendships, the moments that make life worth living."

Oscar was quiet for a moment. "I thought I had all that figured out," he finally said. "The whole future planned."

"And now?"

"Now…" he looked at her, really looked at her, illuminated by the city lights. "Now I don't know anything anymore."

"Good," she smiled. "That's where all the best stories start." She pulled out her phone, checking the time. "Come on, one more stop before I return you to your cave of solitude."

"Where?"

"There's a gelato place around the corner that's still open. And before you say no, just remember - I've already seen you smile tonight. Your reputation is already ruined."

Oscar found himself following her without argument, watching as she practically bounced down the sidewalk, chattering about the best gelato flavors. He thought about what she'd said about missing out on the good stuff.

Maybe, just maybe, she had a point.

"Hey YN?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For… you know."

She turned back to him, her smile soft. "I know." Then, because she was YN, she added, "But if you try to go back to being grumpy tomorrow, I'm telling everyone about how you sang along to Taylor Swift in the bar."

"I did not-"

"The security cameras would disagree!"

Their laughter echoed off the buildings, mixing with the sounds of the city, and for the first time in months, Oscar felt like maybe, just maybe, there was life after Lily after all.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by landonorris, lilyhme and 102,648 others

yourinstagram turns out mr grumpy does know how to smile 😌 (he's gonna kill me for posting this last pic but it was worth it)

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username1 AWE THIS???

username2 weird plot twist but i love it

username3 YN AND OSCAR???

landonorris my stomach miraculously feels better seeing this 😇

↳ oscarpiastri I trusted you norris

↳ landonorris you'll thank me later mate

↳ username1 is there an inside joke we’re missing?

alex_albon WHO IS THIS MAN AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH OSCAR

↳ oscarpiastri Delete this immediately

↳ yourinstagram no ❤️

↳ username2 WHATS GOING ON

yourinstagram for someone who "hates" this post you sure are commenting a lot @/oscarpiastri

↳ oscarpiastri ...i know where you live

↳ yourinstagram no you don't

↳ oscarpiastri Lando does

↳ landonorris leave me out of this 😂

username4 hear me out… oscar and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The McLaren garage had erupted into absolute chaos the moment Lando and Oscar crossed the finish line, securing the Constructors' Championship for the team. Zak was crying, Andrea was hugging everyone in sight, and Lando had already lost his voice from screaming.

Oscar's head was buzzing pleasantly from the multiple champagne showers and whatever drinks had been pressed into his hands during the celebrations. His race suit was stained and sticky, his hair a mess, but he couldn't stop grinning.

"WORLD CHAMPIONS!" Lando screamed for the hundredth time, jumping on Oscar's back.

Through the crowd of celebrating team members, Oscar spotted YN chatting with some of the engineers. She was wearing a McLaren shirt (definitely stolen from Lando's collection) and had champagne dripping from her hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the high of winning, or just the way she'd been beaming at him from the pit wall when he crossed the finish line, but Oscar found himself moving through the crowd toward her.

"YN!"

She turned, her smile growing wider. "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour-"

Before she could finish, Oscar had wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her slightly off the ground. YN froze for a moment, clearly shocked by this uncharacteristic display of affection from him.

"Oh my god," she laughed, hugging him back. "Are you drunk or just really happy?"

"Both," he admitted into her hair, still not letting go. "We did it."

"You did it," she corrected, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Though I have to say, I'm a little concerned. First you're smiling in public, now you're initiating hugs? Who are you and what have you done with Oscar Piastri?"

"Shut up," he grinned, finally releasing her. "I'm allowed to be happy today."

"Quick, someone record this! The evidence that Oscar Piastri has emotions!"

"I take it back, I hate you again."

"No you don't," she sing-songed, poking his cheek. "You just hugged me in front of the entire paddock. Your reputation is ruined forever."

Oscar's eyes widened slightly as he looked around, suddenly aware of the knowing looks and smirks from nearby team members. Lando was practically vibrating with glee.

"I can still blame the champagne," he muttered.

"Sure you can," YN patted his cheek condescendingly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, champ."

"I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Not a chance. I'm having this moment framed. 'The Day Oscar Piastri Showed Human Emotion: A Historical Event.'"

Despite himself, Oscar laughed. "You're impossible."

"Yet you hugged me anyway," she grinned triumphantly. "Face it, Piastri, you actually like having me around."

Maybe it was the champagne, or the victory high, or just the way her eyes were sparkling with mischief, but Oscar found himself saying, "Yeah, maybe I do."

YN's teasing smile softened into something more genuine. "Careful there, that almost sounded like admitting we're friends."

"Don't push it."

"Too late!" She called out to the garage. "Hey everyone! Oscar just said-"

Oscar quickly covered her mouth with his hand, both of them laughing now. "You're the worst."

She licked his palm, making him snatch his hand back. "And you love it."

Before he could respond, Lando crashed into both of them, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "GROUP HUG! WORLD CHAMPIONS!"

As more team members joined the huddle, Oscar found himself pressed close to YN again. She caught his eye and mouthed "softie" at him with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't stop smiling. Maybe she was right. Maybe he did like having her around.

But he was definitely blaming the champagne for that hug.

(He wasn't.)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 104,759 others

yourinstagram to the boy who "doesn't smile" and the guy who "never shuts up" - you just made history. beyond proud to watch you two achieve this. thank you for letting me be a small part of the journey (even when one of you claimed to hate me 😌)

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username1 MCLAREN CHAMPIONSSS

username2 AHHH HAPPY OSC

landonorris MY FAVOURITE HUMAN ❤️

↳ oscarpiastri Excuse me?

↳ landonorris …my favourite humans*

↳ username1 THIS TRIO

username3 the grumpy one and the chaotic one

username4 I SHIP OSCAR AND YN

username5 she's lando's coolest friend

oscarpiastri Never hated you btw

↳ yourinstagram i know, you were just a grumpy boyy

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between lily and oscar

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The McLaren Technology Centre had been transformed for the end-of-year celebration. Music thrummed through the usually pristine halls, and fairy lights twinkled everywhere. YN was nursing her second glass of champagne, watching Lando attempt to convince Zak to try some viral TikTok dance.

She found herself on one of the balconies overlooking the lake, enjoying the crisp December air. The door clicked behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know who it was – she'd recognize those footsteps anywhere.

"Escaping your own party, world champion?"

Oscar leaned against the railing beside her. "Needed some air."

"Too many people trying to hug you?" she teased. "I know how you hate showing emotion in public. Though after that champagne shower in Abu Dhabi…"

"Are you ever going to let that go?"

"Never," she grinned. "It's my favorite memory. The day Oscar Piastri admitted he had feelings."

He was quiet for a moment, fidgeting with his glass. "Speaking of feelings…"

"Ooh, are we having a heart-to-heart? Should I record this rare moment?"

"Lily texted me." He blurted it out almost defensively.

YN's smile faltered for a split second before returning. "Oh! That's… that's great! You must be over the moon. I mean, you've been waiting for her to-"

"I blocked her number."

"You… what?"

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she'd come to recognize. "She wanted to meet for coffee, talk about getting back together, but I just… I couldn't."

"Why not?" YN asked softly, even as her heart picked up speed.

"Because I think I'm falling for someone else," he said in a rush. "Have been for months, actually. Someone who never gave up on me even when I was being an absolute dick. Someone who somehow got past all my walls and made me laugh again. Someone who steals Lando's hoodies and makes terrible puns and calls me out on my bullshit and-"

She kissed him.

It wasn't a grand, dramatic kiss like in the movies. It was soft, quick, almost shy – but it shut him up immediately.

She pulled back, watching his stunned expression with amusement. "I always liked you, you idiot. You were just too busy being grumpy to notice."

"I… what?"

"The guy I've been telling Lando about for months? The one he keeps teasing me about? That's you, dummy."

"But you're always making fun of me!"

"Because you're cute when you're flustered! And it was the only way to get you to actually interact with me at first."

Oscar stared at her, processing. "So all those times you were 'accidentally' showing up wherever I was…"

"Lando might have helped with that," she admitted. "Though in my defense, you were being very stubborn about the whole 'I don't need friends' thing."

"I was an idiot, wasn't I?"

"The biggest," she agreed cheerfully. "But you're my idiot now. If you want to be, that is."

Instead of answering, Oscar pulled her closer and kissed her properly this time. She could feel him smiling against her lips.

"Finally!" Lando's voice made them jump apart. He was standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. "Do you know how exhausting it's been watching you two dance around each other?"

"How long have you been standing there?" YN asked.

"Long enough to know I was right all along," he beamed. "My best friends are in love!"

Oscar groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"Never ever," Lando confirmed cheerfully. "Now come on, there's a party inside and I want to see everyone's faces when they find out!"

YN turned back to Oscar, who looked like he was contemplating murder. "Well, at least we don't have to worry about how to tell everyone?"

"I'm going to kill him."

"No, you're not," she said, pulling him closer. "You're going to kiss me again, and then we're going to go inside and face the music together."

"Or," he suggested, "we could stay here and kiss some more."

"Look who's being soft now," she teased.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

So he did.

(Inside, Lando was already planning how to work this into his best man speech – not that he'd tell them that just yet.)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 219,048 others

yourinstagram 2 months of making mr grumpy smile (and yes, there's photographic evidence of the smiles now). who would've thought all it took was stealing his hoodies and annoying him until he fell in love with me 😌 ps: thanks @/landonorris for being the world's most obvious wingman

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username1 THIS IS SO CUUUUTE

username2 i’m crying. they’re the most adorable couple ver

username3 this is what osc deserves!!!

landonorris MY WORK HERE IS DONE

↳ oscarpiastri You're the worst best friend ever

↳ landonorris you're welcome mate 😘

↳ yourinstagram thank you for your service

charles_leclerc The grumpy one's gone soft

↳ yourinstagram he really has 🥰

↳ oscarpiastri I hate both of you

↳ yourinstagram no you don't x

↳ oscarpiastri ...no i don't ❤️

alex_albon aremember when he used to pretend he couldn't stand you

↳ yourinstagram look how that turned out

↳ oscarpiastri In my defense she was very annoying

↳ yourinstagram still am, you just think it's cute now

↳ oscarpiastri ...no comment

username4 BEST COUPLE IN THE PADDOCK

username5 the day oscar piastri used a heart emoji. historic.

oscarpiastri Fine. You win. 2 months of pretending to be annoyed by the most incredible girl who somehow sees past my "resting grumpy face" (your words, not mine). Thanks for not giving up on me even when i was being difficult. ps: that's my favorite hoodie you're wearing in the last photo, i want it back.

↳ yourinstagram no you don't, it looks better on me 😌

↳ oscarpiastri ...yeah it does

↳ landonorris Get a room you two 🙄

↳ yourinstagram says the guy who took half these photos without us knowing

↳ landonorris SOMEONE had to document the enemies to lovers arc

↳ yourinstagram i love you, grumpy ❤️

The first post 😂😂

please date my sister in law | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the one where charles won’t rest until he gets his fiancée’s sister a boyfriend.

liked by maxverstappen1, yoursistersuser, 806,026 others!

charles_leclerc: are you a hot and single guy OR woman in monaco looking for the perfect lady? well boy do i have good news for you! here we have yn ln, my sister-in law, she’s VERY single, likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating, and knitting. if you are interested please comment below! SERIOUS OFFERS ONLY.

view comments below!

yourusername: what the fuck is this charles

charles_leclerc: this is me getting you a boyfriend?

yourusername: NO CHARLES THIS IS JUST NO. @/yoursistersuser TAKE HIS PHONE?

yoursistersuser: I HAVE BUT HE JUST KEEPS BUYING MORE

charles_leclerc: i cannot be stopped

user1: i’m interested?

charles_leclerc: no you are too ugly

yourusername: cha please stop

charles_leclerc: i will stop once i get you a nice PRETTY boyfriend

yoursistersuser: love, please delete this

charles_leclerc: i would do anything for you… except deleted this. yn needs a bf, she’s been to lonely lately

yoursistersuser: but this doesn’t help her get a boyfriend charles

charles_leclerc: but it will!! have faith

user2: he’s trying to sell her like she’s a dog?? 😭

user3: “likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating” IS SHE A DOG CHARLES??

user4: this is borderline weird and thoughtful at the same time

user5: charles get engaged and goes crazy

user6: i’m interested!

charles_leclerc: no you are far too short

yourusername: what’s the point of this if you’re just going to reject everyone

charles_leclerc: i need to pick someone suitable, i don’t need someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures

yourusername; then how about you delete this and don’t have to worry about “someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures”

charles_leclerc; but i don’t want you alone and sad in the pictures either!

user7: yn doesn’t have a bf?? she’s gorgeous

user8: charles you work with 19 perfectly rich, fine, and tall?? (not really, depends) men, set her up with them

user9: girl half of those men are taken

user8: okay so like 8 rich, fine, and tall (??) men, those are still lots of chances

oscarpiastri: what is going on?

charles_leclerc: are you interested oscar? because you’d be my top pick.

oscarpiastri: i’m too busy with racing for relationships right now, sorry!

yourusername: i just got rejected in front of the whole world through my brother-in law. CHARLES PLEASE STOP THIS

user9: hey so this is crazy!

user10: it’s cute that he cares enough about this too make a whole post

yourusername: charles please stop i’m getting so many dick pics

user12: gross

user13: oh that’s not…

user14: #freeyn

user15: why is he trying to sell her like a dog

user16: if this actual works, i fear we will never hear the end of it from charles

charles_leclerc: all those who are sending dick pics to my sister-in law WILL be reported for harassment. you are lucky my fiancé is holding me back from posting your small dicks all over social media.

user17: POST THE SMALL DICKS CHARLES, DO IT

user18: STOP HOLDING HIM BACK!! LET HIM BE FREE

user19: when he’s protective over his soon to be family >>

user20: three days into summer break and charles has gone crazy

yourusername: i gave you permission to propose to my sister and this is how you repay me?

yoursistersuser: we’re stuck with him for this rest of our lives 😓

yourusername: please, don’t remind me.

user21: “guy or woman” is yn gay?

charles_leclerc: yes! she is half homosexual :)

yourusername: jesus charles

charles_leclerc: what? it’s true!

danielricciardo: can you do one of these post for me?

charles_leclerc: you are rich, tall and buff. no.

charles_leclerc; @/maxverstappen1, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri, @/carlossainz55, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo, @/landonorris who’s interested? 😁

alex_albon; nope

danielricciardo: this weird mate

oscarpiastri; i’ve already said no

landonorris: no thank you

carlossainz55: no thank you

georgerussell63: shakes head

yourusername; kill me now

charles_leclerc: okay. whatever. i don’t care.

carlossainz55: he cares

charles_leclerc: on a completely totally unrelated note @/maxverstappen1, join me for coffee tomorrow morning?

maxverstappen1: sure 👍

— cafe near charles house, 9am, on the dot.

— max verstappen has posted a new story!

[caption: nice cafe 👍]

story responses:

charles_leclerc: hehehehe 😈

user22: SO YOU AND YN WERE HANGING OUT??

user23: that twitter user wasn’t lying??!?!??

user24: charles set you and yn up huh 😼

danielricciardo: who goes to a cafe and gets tea?

maxverstappen1: yn does. and then i felt awkward ordering something else.

danielricciardo: it’s been years and she still makes you nervous?? 🤣

maxverstappen1: shut it

landonorris: i’m surprised you didn’t run away in fear when you say her instead of charles

maxverstappen1: so does everyone just know about charles plan or what?

landonorris: pretty much yeah!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 501,026 others!

yourusername: july and august photo dump 👍

view comments below!

charles_leclerc: my wedding is in a week, why are you posting on instagram and not freaking out?

yourusername: i can multitask

charles_leclerc: maybe you having a bf was a bad idea, you are too distracted 😑

yourusername; lalalala can’t hear you

user23: boyfriend you say? 😏

user24: 2 months and shes been seen "hanging out" with max more then 10 times, AND she justs posted jimmy or sassy (i cant tell the difference) what are you tryna say yn?

user25: man i can’t believe charles actually got yn a boyfriend

user26: and it’s MAX. like his max.

user27: how do yall even know theyre dating?

user25: context clues babes

user28: this is the closest we’ll get to yn and max making it “official”

user29: i feel like if they go to the wedding together, that’ll be them making it “official”

user30: oh definitely

maxverstappen1: puzzles are hard

yourusername: they’re easy when you focus on

maxverstappen1: how can i focus when i when i have a gorgeous woman should as yourself near me?

landonorris: that was smooth man 👏

maxverstappen1: thank you, i’ve been practicing

user31: and people are still saying they aren’t together??

user32: people want them to post a story wirh the caption “this is us making it official” 💀 like babes this is the best we’re going to get

user33: i can’t believe the wedding of the century is in ONE WEEK??

user34: it feels like just yesterday when charles accidentally told the whole world he was engaged

liked by charles_leclerc, yourisistersuser, and 1,026,027 others!

yourusername: today, my sister married an idiot

view comments below!

user35: that wedding was so fucking gorgeous

user36: charles and yn planned the whole thing?? fuck f1 we need them as party planners

yourusername: planning this wedding was the most stressful thing in my fucking life. i never want to plan anything ever again

user37: well the wedding was beautiful so, worth it?

user38: i was expecting a much more emotional caption

user39: she got all her emotions out during her speech 😭

user40: OMG HER SPEECH WAS THE CUTEST THING. “charles you have changed mine and my sisters life for the better. you have introduced me to someone who makes me feel like i’m on cloud 9.” THE CAMERA PANS TO MAX??? “i know we joke and what not, but… i don’t know, just…thank you for making me feel like family.” TEARS ARE STREAMING DOWN MY FACE “i love you both so much,” I CRIED, CHARLES CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED

user41: we will never get that amount of emotion from yn ever again

user42: i will enjoy it while it last

yoursistersuser: i did indeed marry an idiot.

yourusername: it’s okay tho! we still like him

charles_leclerc: awwwww 🥰🥰

user43: charles just ignoring the idiot part

user44: it’s been a good day. yn and max made itt official, charles got married, and the wedding was gorgeous

user45: f1 twt has never been so peaceful

user46; RIGHT??? everyone’s just celebrating the marriage

maxverstappen1: will we have a big wedding?

yourusername: absolutely not. unless charles plans it by himself, we’re getting married in a courthouse

charles_leclerc: are you serious? you’ll let me plan your wedding?

yourusername: you proved yourself with this wedding so yes

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG I HAVE TO GET STARTED

user47: first it started with him trying to get her a bf, now he’s planning her wedding

user48: i feel like a proud mom watching her kids grow up 😢

. . .

notes; pls pls pls send me blurb or smau request!! i have 2 weeks left of vacation and i must make the most of it