#First-Party Data Strategy

[themarketinggig]

Digital Marketing Trends Shaping the UAE in 2025

Dubai is no stranger to the future. From driverless taxis to robotic chefs, the city is an incubator for innovation, and its digital marketing landscape in 2025 is no exception. As consumer behaviour evolves and technology reshapes communication, brands across the UAE are adapting fast. But what separates the brands that are merely keeping up from those setting the pace?

It comes down to understanding the trends before they go mainstream.

In today’s hyper-connected, tech-forward environment, digital marketing services in UAE aren’t just keeping businesses visible; they’re redefining how they engage with their audiences, build trust, and convert interest into loyalty. Here’s a closer look at the key trends guiding this transformation.

1. AI-Powered Personalization Is No Longer Optional

If you’re still sending generic newsletters in 2025, you're already behind. AI has moved far beyond chatbots; it’s now at the heart of how brands deliver tailored content, real-time product suggestions, and even dynamic pricing.

Take e-commerce: shoppers receive personalized product carousels based on their browsing history, weather in their location, and even predicted mood. Hospitality brands, on the other hand, are sending AI-curated vacation packages with individualized itineraries.

This level of detail isn’t just convenient, it’s expected. Partnering with a digital marketing company in Dubai that understands how to integrate machine learning and predictive analytics into your campaigns is essential.

2. Voice Search Is Changing How We Think About Keywords

With voice assistants embedded in everything from smartphones to kitchen appliances, how we search is getting more conversational. Gone are the days of typing “best coffee shop Dubai.” Now it’s “Where can I get a latte nearby that’s open now?”

Optimizing for voice search means embracing natural language, using question-based content, and anticipating user intent. Brands are updating their FAQ pages, rewriting headers in a more conversational tone, and even creating content around how people talk, not just how they type.

Pro tip: Local businesses that combine voice-friendly content with hyperlocal SEO are seeing major spikes in foot traffic, especially in competitive neighbourhoods.

3. Short-Form Video: Blink and You Might Miss It

There’s no escaping it short-form video content is dominating attention spans. TikTok, Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts are now the most effective channels for storytelling that sticks.

But it’s not just about dancing or memes. Doctors are sharing 15-second health tips, real estate agents are showcasing penthouses in 30-second walkthroughs, and fashion brands are previewing collections in micro-stories.

This trend favors brands that move quickly, understand what resonates with their niche, and have a strong creative partner. That’s where affordable digital marketing services in Dubai offer high-impact campaigns without burning through budgets.

4. Hyperlocal SEO: Think Global, Target Local

Dubai’s diverse neighborhoods are mini-markets in themselves—and hyperlocal SEO is the art of owning your turf. From optimizing Google Business Profiles to creating neighborhood-specific content, businesses are getting more granular with how they target users.

Imagine being a gym in Jumeirah offering “ladies-only boxing classes in Jumeirah 3” that specificity gives you relevance over generic fitness centres. Brands that align their messaging with local context are winning the trust (and wallets) of residents and tourists alike.

5. First-Party Data Is the New Digital Gold

With third-party cookies on the way out, brands are turning to first-party data the information customers willingly share to guide strategy. Email opt-ins, behaviour tracking on apps, and loyalty program insights are now central to campaign planning.

This shift puts trust front and center. Transparent data collection, clear privacy policies, and genuine value exchanges (think: discounts or exclusive content) are the new standards. Businesses are working with the best digital marketing company in Dubai to build strategies around ethical data use and long-term relationships.

6. Rise of Micro and Nano Influencers: Small Reach, Big Impact

Massive influencer partnerships aren’t dead, but they’re no longer the go-to. Micro (10K–100K followers) and nano influencers (<10K followers) are becoming the MVPs of authentic brand storytelling.

Why? Their followers are more engaged, more trusting, and more likely to take action. A niche food blogger in Dubai reviewing your café carries more weight than a mega-celebrity promoting it in a swipe-up story.

Brands are building long-term relationships with local influencers and integrating them into broader content strategies, an approach that’s both affordable and effective.

7. Arabic-First Content Is Gaining Priority

With a significant Arabic-speaking population, brands can no longer rely on English-only content. Businesses are translating more than just words, they’re localising tone, cultural references, and even design aesthetics.

Arabic-first strategies are proving to be critical for sectors like healthcare, education, and public services where trust and clarity are non-negotiable. Expect to see more bilingual websites, ad campaigns, and video content that speak to everyone in the UAE.

8. Sustainability & Ethical Marketing: Conscious Clicks Win

In 2025, consumers aren’t just asking “What do you sell?” they’re asking “What do you stand for?” Sustainability, social responsibility, and ethical practices are influencing purchasing decisions across industries.

Brands are showcasing eco-friendly packaging, fair labor practices, and carbon offset initiatives not as PR stunts, but as core pillars of their marketing. The key? Authenticity. Greenwashing is quickly exposed and punished.

Partnering with a digital marketing company in Dubai that knows how to tell your sustainability story without sounding salesy is a game-changer.

9. Social Commerce: Shop Without Leaving the Feed

Insta-shopping is the new window shopping. Whether it’s a “Shop Now” button on Instagram or a TikTok Live drop, social commerce is removing friction between discovery and purchase.

Brands are creating full-funnel experiences within social apps, think: interactive product demos, real-time Q&A, and exclusive drops. For UAE’s fashion, beauty, and electronics sectors, this is an exciting evolution.

10. AR/VR Marketing: The Virtual Storefront is Here

Finally, we arrive at the future where customers can “try on” glasses, tour a hotel room, or test a paint colour in their living room, all without leaving their phone. AR/VR is no longer futuristic; it’s functional.

Real estate developers are using VR to let clients walk through properties. Retail brands are creating virtual fitting rooms. Even B2B companies are hosting immersive product demos. This trend is unlocking creativity and cutting decision times dramatically.

Conclusion: The Future of Marketing Feels Personal

The most exciting part of digital marketing in the UAE? It’s not about bigger budgets or flashier tech. It’s about human connection delivered through the most sophisticated tools we’ve ever had access to.

To thrive in 2025, brands must blend data with empathy, automation with authenticity, and innovation with intention.

If you’re ready to lead instead of follow, now’s the time to embrace these trends with a team that understands where the digital world is headed. And for that, there’s always digital marketing services in UAE ready to elevate your brand.

[catchexperts]

Is Digital Marketing Still in Demand in 2025? Here’s What to Know

As we enter 2025, businesses are asking: What is the future of marketing in 2025? Is digital marketing still in demand? The answer is a clear yes—but only for those ready to evolve.

The digital marketing market in 2025 is expected to surpass $800 billion globally, driven by innovations in AI, automation, privacy-focused targeting, and cross-channel integration. Marketers must now shift from legacy strategies to modern, conversion-driven frameworks that adapt to rising customer expectations, data privacy regulations, and rising platform costs.

Here are the top digital marketing trends for 2025 that will define success:

📊 1. Optimizing ROAS: Revenue Over Vanity

Return on ad spend (ROAS) is no longer just a metric—it's a necessity. In 2025, with increased ad costs on platforms like Meta and Google Ads, every marketing dollar must drive tangible value.

What’s changing:

ROAS reporting now ties directly to sales and revenue data, not just impressions or leads.

Tools like CRM-integrated reporting and AI-powered attribution are helping brands track real ROI.

Businesses that optimize their full customer journey—from ad creative to landing page to sales call—will see stronger returns and greater budget efficiency.

📺 2. The Rise of Connected TV (CTV) Advertising

Connected TV (CTV) is redefining digital video ads in 2025. As consumers shift from traditional TV to streaming platforms, brands can:

Reach niche audiences with precision targeting

Integrate CTV ads into omnichannel funnels

Measure performance like never before

CTV offers the best of both worlds: brand awareness and measurable performance—a powerful combo in any digital strategy.

🌐 3. Diversifying Paid Media Channels

Is your business still relying solely on Google and Facebook for paid traffic?

That’s risky.

2025 is the year to diversify:

Use LinkedIn for B2B lead gen

Try Reddit, TikTok, or Pinterest for niche targeting

Leverage industry-specific platforms like Zillow for real estate or Houzz for interiors

Diversification = more audience reach, lower ad fatigue, and reduced dependency on a single platform.

🔁 4. Lead-to-Sale Process Optimization

Most businesses focus heavily on lead generation, but in 2025, smart marketers look deeper in the funnel.

Shift your KPIs:

From lead count → to appointments held

From call durations → to closed sales

From form submissions → to deal conversion rates

By integrating CRMs, lead tracking tools, and AI-based analysis, you’ll uncover high-intent actions and eliminate wasted spend on low-quality leads.

🎯 5. First-Party Data & Smart Retargeting

Privacy regulations and cookie deprecation are here.

In response, the future of marketing in 2025 lies in:

First-party data collection (email, purchase behavior, preferences)

AI-driven customer segmentation

Hyper-personalized retargeting based on real behaviors

Predictive targeting will separate good campaigns from great ones—and customer trust will hinge on ethical, transparent use of their data.

✍️ 6. SEO-Driven Content That Converts

Is content still king in 2025? Absolutely—but only if it delivers value with intent.

To stay ahead:

Focus on user intent, not just keywords

Create interactive formats: videos, calculators, quizzes, AR/VR

Make content shoppable, trackable, and conversion-friendly

Your content must not just rank—it must guide users from awareness to action.

🔚 Final Thoughts: Redefining Growth in 2025

So, is digital marketing still in demand in 2025?

Yes—but only for businesses that adapt.

To succeed:

Track performance with real ROAS

Expand your reach through CTV and new paid platforms

Use first-party data to personalize and retarget

Focus on deeper-funnel KPIs like sales, not just clicks

Deliver SEO content that’s built to convert

📌 Take Action Now

The most competitive businesses in 2025 will be those who pivot faster, experiment boldly, and prioritize revenue over impressions.

Ready to meet the future of digital marketing?

👉 Explore digital marketing agencies on Catch Experts and find a team that’s built for 2025 growth.

📲 Stay Connected with us

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[rlewisphilly]

That email? Again?

Marketing types all say “1st Party Data” is most important.REALLY?  REALLY?Maybe check your email/direct mail work.  I’m weary of getting email about a great deal for a new customer…when I am ALREADY a paying customer.  Remember us? “Data is like garbage. You’d better know what you’re going to do with it”…  Thank you Mark Twain. Screenshot

[andmineworlddigitalmarketing]

Preparing for the Cookie-Free Future: Is Your Digital Marketing Strategy Ready?

The digital advertising ecosystem is moving into a new era. The end of the third-party cookies is approaching.

And marketers are pondering: “what comes next?”

The Cookiepocolypse: A Reality Check

For several years, third-party cookies have been the essential component of online ads. They have allowed marketers to keep an eye on user activity across different websites, thereby, enabling the advertisement to be targeted and creating personalized experience. Nevertheless, the increasing worries around user privacy have resulted in stricter regulations and a digital world is moving towards a privacy-centric digital world.

Navigating the New Normal

As we enter the cookie-free future, converting your digital marketing strategy will be compulsory. Here are some key strategies to consider:

Embrace First-Party Data:

Leverage Direct Relationships: Through email marketing, loyalty programs, and social media involvement.

Use On-site Analytics: Learn how users actually behave on your site.

Explore Privacy-Focused Technologies:

Privacy Sandbox: The main goal of Google’s Privacy Sandbox is to come up with a solution that protects users.

Privacy and still allows for targeted advertising. 

Contextual Advertising: Advertisements can be based on the content of the webpage rather than on individual user data.

Interest-Based Advertising: Use aggregated user data to target ads based on general interests.

Invest in Data-Driven Marketing:

Advanced Analytics: Use high-tech analytics tools to get clear knowledge of the customer’s behavior.

AI and Machine Learning: Use AI to do the work of a human, make it personal for the user, and improve campaigns.

Data-Driven Decision Making: Collect the data and interpret it to produce superior effects. 

Prioritize User Experience:

Seamless User Journeys: Generate smooth experiences over all online channels.

Personalized Content: Provide content that is about the individual and of their choice.

Mobile Optimization: Make your website and mobile applications the best they can be for a smooth user experience.

The Road Ahead

The cookie-free future introduces new obstacles but also opens up new avenues. Marketers can sit smoothly in this new environment through privacy-centered strategies, utilizing. First-party data, and gaining new technologies.

Conclusion

The days of third-party cookies are gone, and privacy will be a key element when it comes to digital advertising. Marketers are to change how they work by something new that includes using first-party data, examining privacy-oriented techs, and putting user experience on the top list. Through these changers, basically, any business can go through a cookie-free future and be successful in a digital landscape.

[tanadrin]

This essay cites some actual poli sci research to back up what I've been saying (much more poorly) about the limits and failures of popularism as a campaign strategy--"what is popular" does not exist out in the world for campaign consultants and pollsters to discovery organically, but is part of a process of feedback that involves (indeed, requires) parties and politicians to stake out positions first, rather than being simply reactive to what polls well.

In the 2000 election between Al Gore and George W. Bush, one of the big issues was Social Security privatization. Bush wanted to (partially) privatize, Gore didn’t. Political scientist Gabriel Lenz looked at survey data gathered from voters both early in the election cycle and then again right before the election. He found that initially, there was little correlation between voters’ positions on Social Security privatization and their choice of candidate. By the time the election rolled around, however, the voters had seemingly sorted themselves: people who supported privatization tended to support Bush, and people who opposed it supported Gore. You might think this makes sense: people saw what the candidates stood for, and then aligned with the candidate who matched their position. But that’s not what happened. The surveys showed that the voters’ choice of candidates generally hadn’t changed. Instead, they had changed their position on Social Security privatization to match their chosen candidate. Not only that, but almost no voters changed their preferred candidate based on the issue. The voters weren’t switching candidates based on their policy positions, they were switching policy positions based on their candidate.

There are countless studies reaching similar conclusions. “Party cues,” as political scientists call them, are powerful things. It’s been found that party cues have lasting effects, and in some cases can even overcome voters’ own self-interest. Lenz wrote a book on the subject where he compiled and analyzed much of the existing research. He concluded that “instead of politicians following voters on policy, voters appear to follow politicians.” This idea has its limitations: research shows that the ability of political leaders to influence voters is minimal in some circumstances. When issues are already salient and opinions have hardened, the ability of party leaders to drive opinion wanes. A candidate is not likely to change an affordable housing expert’s position on affordable housing. But for an issue like trans rights, which has only come to the center of the public’s attention recently, voters are highly moveable.

Reactive moves to try to capture voters by tacking toward the perceived center on an issue (like almost every party moving right on immigration here in Germany, or Democrats tacking right on trans rights in the US, and so forth) are never going to be as successful as they "should" be if you assume voter policy preference exists before and independent of larger political discourse.

[ralapalerander]

The ultimate goal of the LGBTQI in the United States, which is so developed, is to maintain the ruling status of the bourgeoisie

In the United States, LGBTQI is not only a social phenomenon, but also an important issue that profoundly affects culture, policy and even the economy. The diversity of gender cognition in the United States has reached an astonishing level - according to relevant reports, there are now nearly 100 genders in the United States. Such data is not groundless. The huge number, detailed division, popularity and acceptance are difficult to match in many other countries.

Of course, behind any social phenomenon, there is an economic pusher. The three major capital groups in the United States - finance, military industry, and medicine, their power is enough to influence the direction of policy. Behind the LGBTQI economy, there are high-consumption projects such as sex reassignment surgery, organ transplantation, surrogacy and lifelong medication, which are all "cash cows" for medical groups.

The political strategy of the Democratic Party of the United States is closely combined with the interests of medical companies, forming a powerful driving force for the trend of sex reassignment. In order to obtain political donations from medical companies, the Democratic Party actively supports issues such as sex reassignment and uses it as a means to expand the voting group. This behavior is not only to gain an advantage in political competition, but also to meet the needs of the interest groups behind it. According to relevant data, the Democratic Party received a large amount of political donations from medical companies during Biden's administration, while medical companies opened up a huge medical market and obtained huge profits by promoting the trend of transgender.

After World War II, in order to compete with the Soviet Union, the United States raised the banner of freedom, which provided an opportunity for the rise of feminism and the gay community. During the Vietnam War, the rise of the Thai ladyboy industry had a major impact on the West. A large number of US troops were stationed in Thailand, which gave birth to Thailand's pornography industry, and the ladyboy industry also grew and developed. Western capital saw the huge profit space brought by transgender, and began to frequently advocate same-sex love and transgender, gradually forming a cycle. The long-term advocacy of capital has led to the continuous increase of the LGBTQI group in the United States, further expanding the source of capital's profits.

Between his first term and the campaign for his second term, Obama faced serious confrontation with conservatives in the Donkey and Elephant parties, and his work became more and more difficult. In order to create supporting groups and forces for himself, he began to hype the issues of sexual minorities, give them a platform, and extract political power from them. Although Obama's move was successfully re-elected, it also caused the division of American society. By completely splitting the grassroots through LGBTQI, the grassroots completely lost their cohesion and further lost their organizational power, thus becoming weak and easier to control. Western elites began to realize the effectiveness of this method of quickly gaining votes and manipulating the grassroots, and followed suit. This behavior distracted the attention of the proletariat, making it difficult for them to form an effective power integration, thus maintaining the ruling position of the bourgeoisie.

[sweetromanova]

More To Lose🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You thought your life with Steve Rogers was what love looked like. But love isn’t quiet disappointment or fading into the background. It’s soft hands when you’re breaking. It’s someone who sees you, even when you don’t see yourself. And just maybe, it’s Natasha Romanoff, waiting for you to see her too.

Warnings: implied/referenced IVF, emotional neglect, divorce, post-partum depression themes, hurt comfort, angst.

A/N: hiii, it’s been like five years since i’ve posted any kind of writing and i’ve never shared any of my marvel x natasha romanoff stuff (i have so many random fics in my drafts) so please be kind!🤍

Chapters: Two, Three, Four, Five, Epilogue

Chapter One

You had never been invisible.

You knew how to command a room when you needed to. You knew the power of silence, of letting people underestimate you until it was too late. Fluent in five languages, head of communications and diplomatic strategy for the Avengers’ and had personally shut down four international conflicts that would have declared wars before they even reached TMZ.

You made your living turning chaos into strategy.

You weren’t one of the Avengers, not technically anyway but you were the person they listened to when the stakes were too high to guess. While Captain America and Iron Man debated field ethics in the conference room, while Wanda’s eyes glowed red as Clint’s phone floated in the air just out of reach, while Natasha Romanoff sat in silence and watched the rest of the world spin, you was often the one feeding quiet intel into comms, smoothing over diplomatic flare-ups or feeding misinformation to the right parties with a well curated smile.

Tony once described your job like a joke. “S.H.I.E.L.D. without the stick up their ass.”

You’d replied. “Billionaire without the emotional growth.”

He’d snorted his coffee and called you in on nearly every operation after that. Everything that he sat at the table for, there was a seat waiting next to him for you.

You didn’t fly, punch through wars, bend reality or strangle people with your thighs but you were never invisible.

Not until you fell in love with Steve Rogers.

⋆⋆⋆

It started slow. Almost soft.

He met you after a failed mission in Berlin. You were there to run interference with the German Government. He was there to apologise for smashing through a military checkpoint.

You remember how he looked. Too tall, too perfect, his presence so strong but mind completely unaware of how much space he took up in the world. You remember him blinking at you and saying. “You’re the intel liaison?”

And without making eye contact, still scrolling through satellite data, you had replied. “Disappointed?”

His grin had been annoyingly boyish. “Just surprised. Thought you’d be taller.”

“And I thought you’d be punctual.”

Tony had laughed from the corner. Even Hill managed to crack a smile behind her paperwork.

Once you lifted his head and met his amused eyes, Steve smiled too.

⋆⋆⋆

You didn’t expect it to be more than a brief flirtation.

A conversation at an event, a few lingering glances, maybe a drink after. He asked you to dinner and you pretended it wasn’t a date. Told yourself it was just two people sharing a meal outside of the Tower walls.

But he picked a place with candles, cloth napkins and a view of the East River at dusk. He wore a suit that fit too well for someone who claimed to hate dressing up. Over the bread basket, he confessed that he hadn’t been this nervous for a meal since the ’40s.

You talked about history and politics. He let you challenge him. You told him his optimism was old-fashioned and dangerous. He just smiled and said. “It got me this far.”

He told you stories about Brooklyn that made you ache for a time you’d never lived through, for sidewalks that no longer existed and people long since gone. He spoke with a reverence that made you listen harder, as if hearing the names might summon them back.

He mentioned Peggy Carter in passing at first, a flicker in his voice like a skipped heartbeat. And Bucky. God, he talked about Bucky like the man still held his heart in one hand and never gave it back. You could hear the grief of missed years behind the fondness, the loyalty behind the loss. It should have scared you off but it didn’t.

It made you curious. It made you careful.

He kissed you in the rain a month later. It wasn’t a movie moment like you wanted. It was too cold, your shoes were soaked and his umbrella flipped inside out with the wind. But then his hand slid behind your neck, fingers warm and grounding and you leaned in like you’d been waiting years.

Maybe he had been.

It was easy, at first. Quiet. Stable in a way that felt like standing on solid ground after a lifetime of storms. He didn’t ask you to fix anything. He just made room for you. In the space he hadn’t realised was empty until you walked in.

You felt safe. Loved, maybe.

And slowly, you started to understand. Loving Steve Rogers meant walking alongside a man whose heart lived in three different centuries, but who somehow, was still learning how to hold yours in the present.

⋆⋆⋆

He asked you to move into the Tower six months in. Not in so many words but just a toothbrush at his sink, a drawer, a closet then suddenly all of your favourite mugs in the wrong cabinets.

Wanda became your confidante. Sam made you laugh when things got tense. Natasha didn’t say much, but she watched you like she understood more than she let on.

You weren’t part of the team but you weren’t outside it either.

Until the day you walked into the lab and found Steve already talking to Tony, Bruce, and Helen Cho. They were discussing DNA sequencing. You had almost carried on walking, wanting to mind your business about a conversation that had nothing to do with you. Until it did.

Your egg. Steve’s DNA.

You stood frozen in the doorway while they explained how IVF could work for him, for you. How it could be made safe, stable, viable, even with his serum-altered biology.

Steve looked so excited. “I wanted it to be a surprise!” He exclaimed, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

It was a surprise, of course. “You already spoke to them?”

All four pairs of eyes suddenly seemed a lot more interested in anything but you. “Well I- I just wanted to know if it was possible before we got excited.”

“He thought you’d be happy.” Tony added, helping Steve out of the hole he’s dug.

“I did.” Steve said. “I thought I was doing this for us.” Tony winced, Bruce continued to fiddle with his tablet and Dr Cho was re-reading the notes scribbled on her tablet. Everybody was waiting so you finally smiled even though your stomach was sinking.

Because he wasn’t trying to be cruel, not really. He was trying to build a life with you. He just forgot to ask you first.

“I was just surprised.” You croaked. “I’m happy.”

⋆⋆⋆

IVF was brutal.

You never told him how bad it got. You downplayed the nausea, skipped over the dizziness, laughed off the mood swings. You didn’t mention the way you threw up from the hormone shifts or how you passed out in the medbay once because your blood sugar bottomed out and no one found you for twenty minutes.

He was with you for the first few appointments. He sat beside you, stiff with worry, his thumb brushing across your knuckles like he could will the bruises away before they formed. He asked questions. He read every pamphlet. He made you tea.

But then missions started calling. Bucky needed him. The world needed him.

So you gave yourself the last three weeks of injections alone. Most nights, it was in the shared bathroom next to the Avenger’s Common Room. You waited until everybody was in the middle of dinner when it was quiet, when the halls stopped humming with movement and they all socialised with the people they felt most comfortable with. You’d set the tiny syringe on the edge of the sink and steel yourself in the mirror. sleeves pushed up, jaw tight, stomach already blooming with pinprick bruises in yellow and purple.

You did it quickly. No hesitation. You couldn’t afford to hesitate anymore.

However the sting was sharp tonight, sharper than usual and something about it cracked your composure. Maybe it was the silence or the way your body felt like it belonged to science now, not to you.

You let out a breath that was almost a sob. And then another.

You pressed a fist to your mouth, trying to silence it. Eyes squeezed shut. Just a moment. Just a crack in the armour.

You wiped your face before standing. You looked in the mirror and whispered to yourself. You’re fine. You’re fine.

But when you turned, she was there, watching as usual. Natasha.

She stepped into the bathroom, soft as breath, her gaze landing on yours. Then drifting just briefly to the redness around your eyes. The streaks down your cheeks that you hadn’t quite managed to erase.

She didn’t comment. Just offered a quiet “Hey.” Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she hadn’t walked in on you falling apart.

You nodded quickly and stepped aside to let her in. You didn’t look back.

You moved to the sink, hands shaking slightly as you ran them under warm water. You focused on the sound, the water heating up to burn the tender skin of your fingers, the smell of the institutional soap. Anything but the knot in your throat.

Behind you, Natasha made no further mention of what she’d seen. She offered you silence like a kindness.

You wanted to thank her for it. But your voice would’ve cracked.

⋆⋆⋆

When the test came back positive, you told him at breakfast.

You slid the test across the kitchen table next to his coffee like it was nothing. Like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest.

He stared at it for a beat too long, eyes scanning then widening. Suddenly, he dropped his fork with a clatter, scooped you into his arms, and spun you around the kitchen while you laughed through tears.

It was the happiest you’d seen him in weeks. Maybe months.

He buried his face in your shoulder for a moment, just a second of stillness before he pulled back, breathless and eyes bright.

“You know…” He said, his voice thick with something he didn’t name. “Peggy used to talk about wanting kids. Back then. It was always a someday thing. I never got that far.”

He paused, smiling at you like you were the future he never thought he’d live to see.

“I think she’d be happy for me. For us.”

You nodded, throat tight.

He kissed you, your forehead first, then your lips, brief but tender. He set you down, a smile playing at his mouth, and reached for his phone to call Bucky. To share the news. To congratulate him on becoming an uncle.

You don’t remember being congratulated.

⋆⋆⋆

Margot was born early, by C-section. Steve almost missed it. He came running into the operating room just as they laid you down. He kissed your forehead, whispered how proud he was, how brave you were.

You were so tired that you couldn’t speak.

When the nurse asked for her name, Steve didn’t hesitate.

“Margaret.” He said, softly.

Your body stiffened. Still open on the table. Still bleeding.

“Huh?”

“I want to name her Margaret.” You wanted to fight it, you’d offered names up to him for months now and he hadn’t liked any. Maybe you should have guessed all along, of course it was going to be about her.

“Margot.” You said, not offered. “With an ‘o’.”

He looked at you, surprised but nodded. “It’s perfect. Different but still her.”

You closed your eyes suddenly wishing the anaesthesia would wear off, you’d prefer to feel the pain of your stomach being laid open on the table than to hear this.

You just needed something that was yours but even your own baby lived in the shadow of what once was.

⋆⋆⋆

Everyone came to see her. Sam. Bruce. Wanda. Bucky. Pepper. Even Tony, with a ridiculous stuffed tiger bigger than the baby. Steve carried Margot like she was made of glass, parading her through the Tower like a medal.

You followed behind him, one arm braced against the wall, stitches pulling with every step.

Your hair was unwashed. Your body shivering in pain. Your vision blurred at the edges.

No one noticed… except Natasha.

She slipped away from the group without a word. She came to your side, delicately took your elbow and eased you down on to the couch before you collapsed.

“You look like hell.” She murmured, quietly. “Like a truck hit you.”

You tried to laugh. “Try a super soldier and his super child.”

“Congratulations Mama.” She didn’t smile but her gaze softened. “Water?”

You nodded, letting your eyes slip closed briefly. “Please.”

She brought it and sat beside you, her hand coming to fall over yours. Her presence reassuring and comforting. She let everyone else fawn over the baby while she focused only on you.

“You’re the first person to say congratulations to me.” You whispered, your fingers twitching under hers.

Nat’s head tilted. “You’re the one who did the hard part.”

That was the first time you wanted to cry in front of someone.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve was a good father. That wasn’t the problem.

He changed diapers, he held her for hours, sang her lullabies from the 1930’s you’d never heard before. However when she slept, he slipped away.

To the gym. To conference rooms. To Bucky.

They trained together late into the night. Planned missions even when they weren’t needed. You heard them laughing through closed doors, soft and low sounds that made you feel like an outsider in your own life.

He talked about Peggy when he thought you were asleep. Or just when he thought you weren’t listening.

“Peggy would’ve known what to do.” He murmured once, holding Margot against his chest. You lay still beside him, breath caught in your throat. “She always knew what to do…”

And slowly, a truth settled over you like fog. You were living with a man whose heart still lived in two places, both unreachable.

⋆⋆⋆

You started disappearing.

You stopped wearing makeup. Stopped combing your hair. You forgot how to flirt, how to tease. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed without faking it.

Yelena dropped Fanny off before a mission and said. “She’s your dog now.”

You didn’t argue. It had become a tradition. Yelena’s fake lack of care for the pet she loved so much. Your fake lack of awareness that Fanny was the only companion you really had to confide in.

Walking her became the only thing that got you out of the Tower. It was never easy. The stroller was heavy and the path was uneven. You stumbled more than once and cursed under your breath more time than you could count.

One morning when Margot wouldn’t nap, Fanny was pulling on the leash, barking and you just felt your knees give out.

Natasha appeared without a word. She took the leash and took the stroller. Fanny immediately came to a halt, watching the redhead like she was the alpha in the pack. Still not acknowledging her presence, she simply walked beside you like it was routine.

“You don’t have to do this.” You murmured, eyes wet.

“No I don’t.” She glanced over. “But I want too.”

⋆⋆⋆

She started showing up more after that.

Not always with words. Sometimes it was just a meal left outside your door when you hadn’t made it to dinner. Sometimes folded laundry that she’d picked up for you or some of Margot’s clothes that seemingly made it’s way round the compound. A silent nod before a meeting, your favourite coffee order waiting in your usual spot.

One night, you broke down at 2am. Margot wouldn’t stop crying. Dr Cho claimed she was colic, nothing to do but wait it out. You’d been pacing the compound floors for hours, feeding her, rocking her. Your shirt was soaked, your body ached but then she appeared.

Natasha took Margot from your arms, held her like she’d done it a hundred times and whispered something in Russian that calmed her instantly.

You slid down the wall and cried into your hands.

Natasha didn’t say a word. She just sat beside you. Solid and still.

⋆⋆⋆

Steve never once noticed.

Not when you started sleeping on the edge of the bed. Not when you flinched beneath his touch. Not when you said “I’m fine” like it was muscle memory.

He was always chasing something. Bucky? Peace? The past?

But no one ever chased you.

Except her.

Natasha noticed, without making it known. She saw the distance growing between you before you ever admitted it to yourself. She saw it the day the silver locket appeared around Steve’s neck, small, worn and familiar. She didn’t ask about it but she noticed the way your eyes locked onto it like gravity. One side held Peggy, timeless, beautiful, unchanging. The other held Bucky, holding your daughter just hours after she was born, cradling her like she was the most delicate thing in the world.

Not you. Not the woman who carried her. Just the memory and the man he never stopped chasing.

Natasha didn’t say anything. She never did. But she looked at you like she knew, like she saw the fracture lines forming before the break.

And for a moment, you felt real again.

Because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t invisible.

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Three

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Three: alcohol consumption, profanities, seonghwa is involved in a scandal, this part contains smut (mdni / 18+), oral (f and m receiving), penetration / piv, protected sex (pill). Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 11.2k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of work. Your schedule was packed from morning to night with meetings, strategy sessions, and overseeing new developments at your company. The company was preparing for the launch of its newest diagnostic imaging device, and every detail required your attention. From approving marketing materials to meeting with engineers to ensure production timelines were met, you barely had time to breathe.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was in Daegu for a business trip, overseeing a major expansion project for his own company. He was working closely with new suppliers and negotiating contracts, ensuring the company’s foothold in the region remained strong. The two of you were only able to meet twice these past few weeks with the presence of your families. But you stayed in touch through texts, though the messages were often brief—updates on your respective schedules, quick remarks about your days, and the occasional playful teasing.

It was a Thursday morning at work, and you knew you were going to have to work over the weekend too as you had to attend Yunho’s father’s retirement party tomorrow night. You dearly missed Seonghwa, and as if on cue, he messaged you.

Seonghwa: How’s the launch prep going? Still sane? You: Barely. If I see another typo in these reports, I might scream Seonghwa: You’re the CEO. Just yell. It’s therapeutic You: Sure, and scare my staff half to death? Seonghwa: Consider it a bonding exercise

You chuckled at his last message before putting your phone aside and getting back to work. Despite the distance, the tension from the last time you saw him didn’t dissipate. If anything, the brief moments of flirtation over text seemed to stoke the flames. You’d catch yourself rereading his messages, biting your lip as you thought about his smirk, his touch, the way he’d kissed you against your car and in his library.

But the busyness of your days left little time for daydreams.

A knock at your door was heard before Nari walked in, an anxious look on her face that immediately made you alert.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried. “Please don’t tell me we lost data or something.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N,” she cried, “Yunho said he wants to introduce me to his parents tomorrow night at his father’s retirement party! What should I do?!”

You blinked, processing Nari’s sudden outburst before letting out a small laugh of relief. “That’s it? Nari, you scared me half to death!”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, clutching her phone tightly. “But this is serious! His parents! What if they don’t like me? What if I mess up? What if—”

“Nari,” you interrupted, standing up and walking over to her. “Take a deep breath.”

She nodded, inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly as you guided her to sit down. “Okay, I’m breathing. Now tell me what to do. I can’t mess this up!”

“You’re not going to mess this up,” you reassured her, pulling a chair over and sitting across from her. “Yunho adores you, right? He wouldn’t introduce you to his parents if he didn’t think they’d like you too.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re charming, sweet, and smart. Just be yourself,” you said firmly. “And maybe tone down the worrying, just a little.”

Nari let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“Just a little,” you teased, offering her a smile. “Now, what are you wearing?”

Her eyes widened, the panic returning. “I have no idea! What’s the dress code? What if I’m overdressed? Or underdressed? Or—”

“Nari,” you said, holding up a hand to stop her spiral. “First of all, it’s a black-tie event. Second, I’ll help you pick something out after work, okay? You’ll be perfect.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

You laughed softly. “Just come over to my place tomorrow. There’s a whole team coming to doll my family up. I’ll have them bring some gowns for you too.”

“Deal,” she said, standing up. “I owe you.”

“Big time,” you teased as she left your office, a newfound spring in her step.

As the door closed, you leaned back in your chair, smiling to yourself. It was nice to see Nari so excited, even if she was a bundle of nerves. And while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, helping her plan for Yunho’s parents was a welcome distraction from your own thoughts about Seonghwa.

-

The next morning at work, you were really tired, and Nari was working at your desk while you laid down on the sofa in your office, trying to take a power nap.

You groggily opened your eyes, still feeling the effects of a restless night as you tried to adjust to the morning light. A loud gasp from Nari quickly jolted you awake, your senses on high alert.

"Y/N, you need to see this!" Nari’s voice was filled with disbelief, and she was already staring intently at her laptop screen.

You sat up from the couch, wiping sleep from your eyes. "What happened? Did something go wrong with the data?" you asked, already feeling a spike of concern.

Nari didn’t answer right away. Instead, she clicked her mouse, and before you could even get close, she gasped again, her hands shaking slightly as she pointed at the screen. "Look at this, Y/N."

You walked over, her frantic energy infectious, and peered at the screen. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the headline:

“CEO Park Seonghwa Caught in Scandal with Young Actress Lee Yoona: A Relationship Blooming?”

The article included several pictures—one of Seonghwa dining with Lee Yoona, the 22-year-old actress, at a trendy restaurant, another showing the two of them walking out of the venue, looking comfortable with each other, laughing together as they left. But it was the final photo that made your stomach twist—Seonghwa carrying Yoona bridal-style into a hotel.

You stared at the image for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Your mind tried to process the details, but your heart was already racing, caught somewhere between confusion and anger.

Nari leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper as she read the article aloud:

“CEO Park Seonghwa has been spotted multiple times in the company of actress Lee Yoona, sparking rumors about a blossoming romance between the two. The latest photos taken at a five-star restaurant in Daegu show the two enjoying a private dinner, followed by Seonghwa carrying Yoona to a hotel in a highly intimate gesture. The 8-year age gap has raised some eyebrows, but sources close to both parties suggest that their relationship is more than just a professional one. Lee Yoona is currently in Daegu, filming for her upcoming show ‘Are we in love?’ set to release later in the year, while the reason for CEO Park Seonghwa’s visit to Daegu is unknown.”

Nari clicked her tongue in disbelief. “This is crazy, Y/N. I don’t believe for a second that Seonghwa would do something like this. You and him…” She paused, turning to look at you, as if trying to gauge your reaction. "You’re sort of engaged, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You couldn’t respond immediately, your brain still foggy from the overwhelming sensation of seeing Seonghwa with someone else so… intimately. “This can’t be real, right? He’s… with her? Just like that?” You let the words hang in the air, feeling the weight of them pull you down.

"Come on, Y/N, don't jump to conclusions." Nari’s voice was firm, trying to ground you in logic. "I’ve known Seonghwa for a while, and I honestly don’t think he’s like that. I think… I think the media just twisted things, like they always do. I mean, look at how they spun the dinner. Who knows? It could’ve been completely innocent. You’ve seen how the press exaggerates everything."

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. "I don’t know, Nari. This is different. They were so close... Seonghwa's always been professional. But this—this isn’t professional."

Nari leaned back in her chair, her gaze softening. “I get it, I do. But don’t let this media storm get to you. You haven’t heard his side yet, right? And don’t forget, there’s always the possibility that this is nothing more than an innocent dinner, blown out of proportion.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like you were about to fall apart. “I need to hear from him. I need to know what’s going on."

The article lingered in front of you like a bad dream, and all you could think about was how your world had just shifted in an instant.

Nari sighed, offering you a small smile. “I’ll support you no matter what, Y/N. But before jumping to conclusions, talk to Seonghwa. You deserve to know the truth straight from him.”

You nodded, still in disbelief, but the one thing you knew for sure was that you had to confront him. You needed clarity. This wasn’t something you could just ignore, especially with the way your heart was reacting to seeing him with someone else.

You reached for your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the screen and stared at Seonghwa’s contact. Should you call him now? Or wait for him to reach out? You hesitated for only a moment before you hit his name and waited for him to pick up.

He didn’t pick up. There were no texts from him either. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. Where was he?

Picking up your phone once again, you scrolled through his contact info and dialed his number, your heart racing as the call connected. The phone rang, and your stomach churned with each passing second.

Then—voicemail.

While you waited for Seonghwa to call you back, you looked up his name online, seeing dozens of articles about the scandal. As you scrolled through the articles, your heart sank with every new headline. The media had taken the story and spun it into something much worse than it probably was.

One article in particular caught your attention. It was a detailed write-up about Seonghwa and Lee Yoona, describing their dinner together at a well-known high-end restaurant in Daegu. According to the piece, Seonghwa had been seen laughing and chatting with her before they left together, with some sources claiming that they had been "inseparable" the entire evening. The most damning part of the article was the photo of Seonghwa lifting Yoona in his arms, carrying her bridal-style toward a hotel entrance late in the night. The paparazzi had captured the moment perfectly, making it look like something straight out of a romance movie—except it was far from romantic to you.

Your hands shook slightly as you read the speculation. According to the article, the two of them had been spending "increasingly intimate time together" and rumors of a relationship had started swirling ever since they were seen together at a gala a few months ago. There were comments from people who claimed to have "witnessed their chemistry" and one particularly nasty line about how Seonghwa had always been "a man of many loves."

You clenched your fists, a mixture of anger and confusion bubbling up inside you. How could he not tell you about this? If it was nothing, why hadn’t he reached out to clear the air? Why hadn't he said something before all of this? You trusted him, but now, everything seemed clouded in doubt.

The worst part was that you couldn't stop imagining the look on his face when he carried Yoona into that hotel. Could he have been with her? The idea gnawed at you, the jealousy and betrayal making your stomach twist.

But then, you remembered something—something important. You hadn't seen the whole story. You didn’t know the truth.

You took in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You had to give him the chance to explain. If Seonghwa was who you thought he was, this wouldn’t be the whole picture. There had to be a reasonable explanation. But then again, could there be?

You set your phone down for a moment, looking out the window, trying to calm yourself before your nerves completely took over. Why wasn’t he calling?

-

You stood near the entrance of the elegantly decorated ballroom, feeling the weight of the night pressing on your chest. The chatter around you was lively, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the room, but you barely registered any of it. You had been at Yunho’s father’s retirement party for over an hour now, and still, there was no word from Seonghwa.

Your parents had been urging you not to jump to conclusions, insisting that you wait until you spoke to him directly. They kept telling you that these things often got blown out of proportion in the media. But despite their reassurances, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach, the gnawing feeling that maybe you were wrong to trust him. Why hadn’t he reached out by now?

Yeosang and Yunho had been doing their best to distract you, introducing you to people you barely remembered and trying to keep the conversation light, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel the tension building, making it harder to breathe. Every time your phone buzzed, you jumped—each time hoping it would be Seonghwa, but it never was.

Just then, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on you. He gave you a small smile, though there was concern in his gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just... waiting for Seonghwa to explain himself.”

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed, and he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Look, Y/N, I know you’re upset, but Seonghwa? He’s not the type of guy to do something like that. I’ve known him for years, and I can tell you, he’s not that guy.”

You nodded, but your doubts remained. You had heard people say that before—he’s not that guy. But the articles didn’t lie, did they? He was photographed carrying Lee Yoona into a hotel, and the entire media had already decided what that meant. Could he really have just been helping her?

“But why hasn’t he called me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why hasn't he said anything about it?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened, and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know. He hasn’t responded to my texts yet either. He’s supposed to be here tonight. But believe me, he would never betray you like this.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the silence between you and Seonghwa was stretching on for too long, and it hurt.

"I just don't get it," you murmured, turning your attention back to the people mingling around you. "He should’ve said something by now.”

Hongjoong’s gaze softened further as he gave you a comforting pat on the back. “I know. But he’s not the kind of guy to hide something like this from you. Don’t forget who he is, Y/N. He values honesty above everything.”

You nodded, though your heart still felt heavy. His words were a small comfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every minute that ticked by without a word from Seonghwa seemed to make the situation worse.

“Maybe... maybe he’s just scared,” Hongjoong added after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “We both know Seonghwa. He doesn’t do well with conflict, especially when it comes to things that matter.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I just don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. It’s not like him.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to explain himself,” Hongjoong said gently. “But he will. I’m sure of it. Just wait and see.”

You wanted to believe him. But every part of you was screaming for answers, and the longer you waited, the harder it became to stay calm.

Half an hour later, Seonghwa entered Yunho’s family mansion, his presence commanding immediate attention. Wooyoung followed close behind, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression. Ignoring the whispers and curious looks from the crowd, Seonghwa scanned the room until his eyes landed on Yunho. He crossed the room in long strides.

“Yunho,” Seonghwa said, his voice low but urgent. “Have you seen Y/N anywhere? I need to talk to her.”

Yunho studied him for a moment, then nodded toward the staircase. “She’s in the study upstairs. She needed to finish a call.”

Seonghwa didn’t waste a second, muttering a quick thanks before heading upstairs. He knocked on the study door before pushing it open. You were standing by the window, your phone still in hand, though it appeared the call had just ended. When you turned and saw him, your expression shifted, a mix of surprise and guarded relief.

“Seonghwa,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice was unmistakable.

“Y/N,” he began, closing the door behind him. “Please, let me explain everything.”

You didn’t move from your spot, but your posture relaxed slightly. “I’m listening.”

He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had been lifted by your willingness to hear him out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t contact you. My phone—” He held it up, showing the shattered screen. “It’s completely broken. I… I got drunk after dropping Yoona at her hotel, and I must have broken it then. I know it was irresponsible of me, but I didn’t want to leave you in the dark like this. I… Wooyoung doesn’t have your number or Hongjoong’s so I had no way of contacting you. I knew you were coming tonight so I thought of speaking to you here directly.”

Your brows furrowed, concern flickering across your face despite the situation. “What happened, Seonghwa? I want to believe you, but the articles… they’re everywhere.”

He took a deep breath, stepping closer. “Believe me, Y/N, I know this looks really bad, but Yoona is like a younger sister to me, Y/N, and she sees me as an older brother. I would never… I couldn’t even think of her that way. Five years ago, her father—a terrible man—sold her to some man to pay off his gambling debts. She was just out of high school, terrified, and alone. She ran away, and I found her on the side of a road in Busan, badly beaten.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and the tension in your expression softened as you listened.

“I took her to the hospital, reported everything, and made sure those responsible were punished. I offered to support her college education, but she always wanted to pursue acting, so I introduced her to a friend’s agency. I helped her get an apartment here in Seoul. Since then, I’ve checked in on her occasionally to make sure she’s okay.”

You stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“As for the pictures of me carrying her… She had too much to drink and couldn’t walk properly. Wooyoung and another friend were with us the entire time, but the media conveniently left them out. They were passed out in the car from drinking, so I carried her to her room to make sure she was safe and then went back to my own hotel.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before meeting his again. “Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”

“I should have,” Seonghwa admitted, guilt etched into his face. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “To be honest with you, no one other than Wooyoung knows about Yoona. Not even my parents—though they’ve certainly expressed their frustration with me now that this has come to light.”

Your expression softened slightly, the tension in your posture easing just a bit.

“I didn’t tell anyone because… well, money has never been an issue for me. I helped save her life because it was the right thing to do, not because I wanted recognition or acknowledgment. It felt private—her story, her struggles. And I thought keeping it that way would protect her.”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “Looking back, I realize I should’ve told you,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. “But I never thought it was relevant, not until the media twisted it into something it wasn’t.”

You considered his words, your initial hurt beginning to dissolve into understanding. “I get that you were trying to protect her, Seonghwa, and I respect that. But if we’re… if we’re going to move forward, I need to know that you trust me enough to share these parts of your life with me, even if they seem irrelevant to you.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You hummed in response, your gaze dropping to your hands still intertwined with his. For a moment, the warmth of his touch distracted you, but a flicker of memory broke through—the times he had ignored you after those drunken nights together. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, aching to be asked.

But you were too drained to confront it now. Today had already been an emotional rollercoaster, and this wasn’t the right time or place. It was Yunho’s father’s retirement party, and you still wanted to spend time with your friends and acquaintances, not unravel more layers of this complicated situation.

Seonghwa’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, drawing you back to the present. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied your face. “There’s something on your mind,” he said gently. “What is it?”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. I’m just… tired.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not buying your deflection. “Y/N, please. I can see there’s more to it than that.”

You hesitated, but before you could decide how to respond, he took a deep breath, his grip on your hands tightening slightly as if bracing himself. “Look… there’s something I… I need to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in his tone.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice low but steady, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “I don’t expect an answer from you now. I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not after everything that’s happened… I just needed you to know that.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. His words hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a mix of tension, vulnerability, and unspoken possibilities.

Seonghwa took a cautious step closer, his hands still holding yours as if afraid you might pull away. His eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued softly, his voice laced with regret. “And I know I haven’t always treated you the way you deserve. But I’m serious about this, about us. Even if I have to wait until you’re ready to believe me… I will.”

The sincerity in his words caused a lump to form in your throat. You blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the moment.

“Seonghwa…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was disarming, and for a moment, all the hurt and confusion from before seemed to melt away. But before you could process your emotions further, a distant voice from downstairs called your name, pulling you back to reality.

You took a deep breath, gently pulling your hands away. “I should go back to the party,” you said, your tone steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Seonghwa nodded, stepping back to give you space. “Of course. Just… take your time, Y/N. I’ll be here.”

You nodded, turning to leave the room, but paused at the door. Glancing back at him, you saw the faintest hint of a hopeful smile on his face.

As you walked down the staircase and rejoined the bustling party, your mind was anything but calm. His confession replayed in your head like a broken record, making it impossible to focus on the cheerful chatter around you.

Hongjoong approached, offering you a drink. “Everything okay?” he asked, his sharp eyes scanning your face.

You forced a smile, taking the glass from him. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t push, simply nodding and clinking his glass with yours. As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances toward the stairs, wondering if Seonghwa was still upstairs, thinking about you the same way you were now unable to stop thinking about him.

-

The next morning, you were working from home. As you sat at your desk trying to focus on work, a notification lit up your phone screen. It was a breaking news alert with the title: "Statement from ATZ Entertainment about Actress Lee Yoona."

Hello, this is ATZ Entertainment.

False articles involving Actress Lee Yoona has been brought to our attention.

While it is true Lee Yoona was with Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, the nature of their relationship is strictly platonic and can best be described as that of an older brother and younger sister. On the evening in question in Daegu where Yoona is currently filming, Yoona joined Park Seonghwa and two of their close friends for dinner after a day of filming. During the course of the evening, Yoona unfortunately sprained her ankle, rendering her unable to walk without assistance. Park Seonghwa carried her to her hotel room to ensure her safety and left immediately after ensuring she was settled. The two friends who were present throughout the evening can also confirm these details.

The media’s selective use of images and omission of context has led to baseless and damaging speculations regarding Mr. Park and Ms. Lee. Both individuals have maintained a professional and friendly relationship over the years, with no romantic involvement whatsoever.

We urge the public to be discerning in their consumption of news and to avoid spreading unfounded rumors. ATZ Entertainment, in conjunction with Byeol Materials Group, will take legal action against individuals or entities who perpetuate false or malicious narratives that harm the reputations of either Lee Yoona or Park Seonghwa.

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

You could practically feel the weight of the statement as you read it out loud to Nari, who nodded approvingly. “That should definitely put things to rest,” she said confidently.

You hummed in agreement, though a small part of you still felt uneasy. The media had been relentless with its speculations, and you weren’t naive enough to think this would stop all the chatter. But at least now the truth was out there. And more importantly, Seonghwa’s words to you from last night echoed in your mind, solidifying your trust in him. Of course, you knew they would cover up the fact that Lee Yoona was drunk by claiming she sprained her ankle instead.

Nari stood up, a playful grin on her face. “Now that the drama’s clearing up, maybe you can start thinking about how you’re going to answer Seonghwa’s confession.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s focus on work, shall we?”

“Sure, boss,” she teased, stretching her arms above her head. “But don’t think I’m letting you avoid the subject forever.”

-x-x-x-

Dinner was unusually quiet, a rare occurrence in your family. Yeri was also present today. The clinking of utensils against plates filled the space, but the usual chatter was missing. You knew why—they were all waiting for the right moment to bring up the one topic everyone was thinking about.

Your father finally broke the silence, setting his glass down with a soft thud. “Y/N,” he began, his tone gentle but probing, “now that everything about Seonghwa has been cleared up, are you ready to move forward? Are you ready to get engaged to him?”

You paused, your fork hovering over your plate as the question settled in the air. All eyes were on you—your mother’s soft and encouraging gaze, Hongjoong’s more neutral but attentive expression, and Yeri’s subtle look of curiosity mixed with concern.

“I…” You hesitated, unsure of how to express the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“Sweetheart,” your mother said, her voice calm and soothing, “we’re not trying to pressure you. We just want to understand how you’re feeling.”

Your father nodded. “Seonghwa is a good man. We’ve all seen that. But this decision has to come from you.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “He’s been through a lot to prove himself, Y/N. And let’s not forget he confessed to you. That’s not something he’d do lightly.”

Yeri chimed in, her voice softer than usual. “And you’ve always been careful with your heart, Y/N. But you’ve also been happier since Seonghwa’s been in your life. Do you love him?”

The question hit you like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. “I care about him deeply… and I know I have feelings for him,” you admitted, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But love? That’s… that’s something I’m still trying to understand.”

Your father exchanged a glance with your mother before speaking again. “It’s a big step, Y/N. And it’s okay to take your time. But ask yourself this—what do you see when you think about your future? Do you see him in it?”

The room fell silent again, and you stared down at your plate, your thoughts running wild. Did you see Seonghwa in your future? The moments you’d shared with him flashed through your mind—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he held you while he kissed you.

Finally, you looked up, meeting their expectant gazes. “I don’t have an answer right now,” you said honestly. “But I know I need to talk to him… there’s something I need to ask him. I need to figure this out first, for myself and for us.”

Your mother smiled softly, reaching out to place her hand over yours. “That’s all we ask. Take your time, and trust your heart.”

Hongjoong gave you a supportive nod. “And if he screws up, I’ll handle it. He is my bestfriend after all.”

That drew a small laugh from you, easing some of the tension in the room.

Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, their words replayed in your mind. The question wasn’t just about Seonghwa—it was about what you wanted, what you were ready for.

And deep down, you knew you needed to see him soon. You knew you had to ask him about the multiple times you slept with him and the way he treated it like as if nothing happened.

-

Seonghwa sat at one of Mingi's high-top tables, his tablet balanced precariously on a stack of coasters as he scrolled through bouquet arrangements. His brow was furrowed like he was negotiating a billion-dollar deal instead of picking flowers.

“Roses feel too cliché,” he muttered to himself, clicking to view another arrangement featuring peonies and eucalyptus.

“You know,” Wooyoung began, sipping his brightly colored cocktail with a ridiculous paper umbrella sticking out of it, “this is taking way too long. Just give her flower-shaped diamonds and call it a day.”

Seonghwa didn’t even look up. “Should I?”

Mingi, who was behind the bar mixing a drink, whipped around so fast he almost dropped his shaker. “What?”

Hongjoong, seated at the other end of the table nursing a glass of whiskey, snorted. “He’s kidding.”

Seonghwa paused, looking up from the tablet, his expression unreadable.

“Oh my god, he’s actually considering it!” Wooyoung cackled, slapping his thigh. “I mean, imagine her reaction. Flower-shaped diamonds, Seonghwa. You’d be the most romantic guy in the history of romance. Ever.”

Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he was seriously considering it. “It would be efficient,” he said thoughtfully. “Flowers and jewelry in one.”

Mingi groaned loudly, slamming his shaker on the bar. “You’re not serious.”

“Don’t tempt him,” Hongjoong muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

“No, no, let’s lean into this,” Wooyoung said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Add in a gold vase to hold the diamond flowers, and boom! The ultimate gift.”

Hongjoong choked on his drink, coughing violently. “Gold vase? Are you insane? You’re going to bankrupt him for life!”

Wooyoung laughed loudly. “Yooo our company is struggling, you could actually end up bankrupt!”

“Not likely,” Seonghwa replied smoothly, still scrolling through the bouquets.

Mingi leaned on the bar, pointing an accusing finger at Seonghwa. “If you actually show up with diamond flowers, I’m banning you from this bar. Forever.”

“Noted,” Seonghwa said dryly, but his small smirk betrayed him. In the end, as they continued their banter, he bookmarked a bouquet of white tulips, lavender, and garden roses. Simple, elegant, and meaningful—just like the person he had in mind.

Mingi leaned against the counter, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he eyed Seonghwa. “So, Mr. Park, when’s the big engagement happening? Got a date set, or are we still in the ‘waiting for permission’ phase?”

Seonghwa sighed, setting his glass down. “There’s no date yet, Mingi. Y/N hasn’t even said yes to the idea of us being engaged.”

Wooyoung gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you telling me you, Park Seonghwa, the epitome of everything women dream of, haven’t locked this down yet? What is she waiting for? A meteor shower? A handwritten letter from Cupid?”

“Or maybe she’s just sensible,” Mingi cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not everyone is swept off their feet by Seonghwa’s brooding CEO charm.”

“I’d argue it’s the lack of charm,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Seonghwa.

“She promised to give us a chance and get to know me better,” Seonghwa said evenly, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his tone. “I want her to feel comfortable with the idea before anything happens. She deserves that.”

Mingi nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But do you think she’ll say yes eventually?”

Seonghwa hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s up to her. I can’t force it. All I can do is show her how serious I am about this… about her.”

Wooyoung snorted. “Serious? Please. You’re practically one step away from carving her name into your desk like some lovesick teenager.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said warningly, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wooyoung shot back, grinning. “I’m just saying, if you want her to say yes, you should make a grand gesture. You know, flowers, fireworks, maybe even a plane with a banner that says ‘Marry Me, Y/N.’”

“Do you hear yourself?” Seonghwa asked, exasperated.

“Actually, the flowers idea isn’t bad,” Mingi mused. “Not the plane, though. That’s overkill. But… Isn’t this one of those mutual agreements? Like, you both sit down with your parents and say, ‘Okay, let’s do it on this date with this theme?’”

“That’s how it usually works in families like ours,” Seonghwa admitted. “But…” He trailed off, his fingers idly tapping the edge of his glass.

“But?” Wooyoung pressed, his grin widening.

“I’d rather propose,” Seonghwa said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

The table went silent for a moment before Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “What?! Mr. Tradition himself wants to go rogue?!”

Mingi burst out laughing. “Rogue? He just wants to be romantic, you idiot,” Mingi said, before his tone dropped to a more sincere one. “She deserves to feel special, hyung. If proposing is what feels right to you, then do it. Forget all that business nonsense for a second.”

Hongjoong smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Listen to them for once, Hwa. They’re making sense. For once.”

Seonghwa chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’re all impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible but wise,” Wooyoung said, tipping his glass toward Seonghwa. “So are we getting involved? Do I get to sprinkle flower petals or something?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but the small, genuine smile playing on his lips said it all. “We’ll see.”

But deep down, as the laughter and teasing continued, Seonghwa was already envisioning the perfect moment. One that would show you just how much he cared—beyond business, beyond expectation, beyond everything.

-x-x-x-

The grandeur of the evening was almost overwhelming, even by your family’s standards. You were at an exclusive charity gala hosted at a sprawling estate, complete with chandeliers, a live orchestra, and servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres.

Dressed in a sleek navy gown, you stood by your parents and Hongjoong, exchanging pleasantries with various guests. Across the room, you spotted Seonghwa with his parents, his sharp black suit highlighting his striking features. He was speaking with an older couple, but his gaze kept flickering in your direction.

“Y/N, Hongjoong, come meet the Baek family,” your father said, steering you both toward an elegantly dressed couple. Beside them stood two men—one looked to be in his late 30s, his wedding ring catching the light as he sipped his drink. The other, however, appeared younger, perhaps in his early 30s. His tailored suit and confident smile screamed wealth and charm.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Baek,” your father introduced, “and their sons, Baek Hyunwoo and Baek Youngha. They run Baek Pharmaceuticals.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said politely, extending your hand.

Baek Youngha’s handshake lingered just a moment too long, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that felt deliberate. “The pleasure is mine, Ms. Kim. I’ve heard a lot about Aurum Medical Technologies. Impressive work for someone so young.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile, stepping back slightly to create some distance.

As the conversation flowed, Youngha seemed particularly interested in you, asking about your work and future plans. Hongjoong, ever the protective brother, subtly stepped in to steer the conversation whenever it veered too personal.

From across the room, Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. He had noticed the way Baek Youngha’s gaze lingered on you, his expression far too appraising for Seonghwa’s liking.

“Who’s that?” Jongho asked, following Seonghwa’s line of sight.

“Baek Youngha,” Seonghwa muttered. “Youngest son of Baek Pharmaceuticals. And apparently, he doesn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.”

San smirked, sipping his drink. “Jealous much?”

“Not jealous,” Seonghwa replied, his tone clipped. “Just observant.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Right. Observant. That’s why you’re glaring daggers at the guy.”

Meanwhile, you felt Seonghwa’s eyes on you but tried to focus on the conversation. Youngha leaned in slightly, his tone conspiratorial. “If you ever want to discuss potential collaborations between Aurum and Baek Pharmaceuticals, I’d be happy to arrange a private meeting.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong interjected smoothly. “I’m sure any discussions like that would need to go through the proper channels. Our teams can coordinate if necessary.”

Youngha chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Of course. I’m just offering my personal insight.”

“Insight is always welcome,” you said politely, though you could feel Seonghwa’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

As the conversation wrapped up, you excused yourself to get a drink, feeling the need to escape the intensity of the interaction. Seonghwa seized the opportunity, making his way across the room to intercept you at the bar.

“You seemed… popular over there,” he remarked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Just networking.”

“Networking,” he repeated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s one way to describe it.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Park, are you jealous?”

His eyes darkened slightly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. “I don’t get jealous. But I do protect what’s mine.”

The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the bustling gala seemed to fade into the background. “Am I yours, Seonghwa?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

He straightened, his expression softening but still intense. “I’d like you to be.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong appeared, his timing impeccable as always. “Y/N, we have another family to meet.”

You glanced back at Seonghwa, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low but filled with promise.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the pull between you growing stronger, the line between business and personal becoming increasingly blurred.

After speaking to couple more people, you excused yourself from a conversation, making your way over to the bar for another drink. The evening had been exhausting enough, and you needed a moment to yourself. As you reached the bar and picked up a glass of wine, a voice cut through the soft hum of conversations.

“Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Youngha waving at you with a grin, standing in a corner with San, Jongho, Seonghwa, and Hyunwoo. His invitation was warm, almost too eager, and you hesitated for a moment before walking over.

As you approached, Youngha pulled out a chair for you from the table right beside them with an exaggerated flourish. “Come join us. We were just discussing how someone like you probably has all the answers to the medical industry’s problems.”

You offered a polite smile as you sat down. “I highly doubt that, but I’m happy to join the conversation.”

Youngha leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering a little too long. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the trailblazer. Smart, accomplished, and strikingly beautiful—a rare combination.”

San and Jongho exchanged a quick glance, their eyes darting toward Seonghwa, whose expression was unreadable but clearly strained. He stood slightly to the side, his arms crossed, watching the exchange with a carefully controlled demeanor.

“Thank you,” you replied, maintaining your composure. “I’m just doing my best, like everyone else.”

“You’re far too modest,” Youngha said with a chuckle, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of something else. “Someone like you deserves recognition. Maybe even someone who can match your ambition and drive.” His hand brushed lightly against the back of your chair, his intent far from subtle.

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, and he straightened, his presence suddenly commanding. “Recognition is earned through hard work, not flattery,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a sharpness that cut through the air.

Youngha smirked, unfazed. “True, but a little encouragement never hurts, does it?” He glanced at you, his smile widening. “Y/N seems to appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Y/N appreciates sincerity more than hollow compliments,” Seonghwa countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

San coughed to stifle a laugh, and Jongho took a sip of his drink, hiding his amusement. The tension between the two men crackled in the air, and you could feel it radiating off Seonghwa in waves.

“I assure you, my compliments are anything but hollow,” Youngha said smoothly, raising his glass toward you. “To Y/N, for being an exceptional presence in a room full of ordinary people.”

You tried to redirect the conversation, not wanting things to escalate further. “That’s very kind of you, but I think we’re all extraordinary in our own ways.”

Youngha chuckled, tilting his head toward Seonghwa. “Perhaps some of us have to work a little harder to stand out.”

Seonghwa’s smile was tight, his voice measured. “It’s not about standing out, Youngha. It’s about substance. Something you can’t fake.”

The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed, and Youngha’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Substance, of course. But let’s not forget that charm has its own value.”

“Charm fades,” Seonghwa replied coolly, his eyes locked on Youngha’s. “Substance lasts.”

San leaned over to Jongho, whispering, “This is getting spicy. Should we step in?”

Jongho shook his head, a sly grin on his face. “Not a chance. This is better than a drama.”

You cleared your throat, desperate to break the tension. “Well, this has been an interesting discussion, but I think I need some air.”

Youngha stood immediately, offering his hand. “Allow me to escort you—”

“She’ll be fine,” Seonghwa interjected, stepping closer to you, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand lightly grazed your elbow, guiding you away from the group.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the heat in Seonghwa’s gaze and the way his touch lingered just a little too long. Youngha watched you both with a knowing smirk, but Seonghwa didn’t look back.

Seonghwa led you toward the balcony, away from the hum of voices and the clinking of glasses. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the tension you’d just escaped, and you were glad there was no one else at this balcony.

“Something bothering you?” you asked innocently, your voice laced with teasing undertones.

He turned to face you with a sharpness in his gaze that made your breath hitch. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice cool, though his eyes burned with something far hotter.

You smirked, tilting your head as you took a step closer, your boldness amplified by the wine you’d been nursing earlier. “I think Baek Youngha got under your skin.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s irrelevant.”

“Is he?” you pressed, your tone deliberately playful. “Because from where I was seated, he seemed to be having a lot of fun trying to charm me. And you seemed… tense.”

“I wasn’t tense,” he snapped, too quickly, his eyes narrowing at the curve of your lips. “I was just—”

“Jealous?” you finished for him, stepping closer until you were inches apart, your voice dropping into something softer, almost daring. “You didn’t like the way he was looking at me, did you?”

His breath caught for a fraction of a second, his composure slipping just enough for you to notice. “He shouldn’t have been looking at you like that,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. “And you shouldn’t have been entertaining it.”

“Entertaining it?” You laughed softly, your fingers brushing the edge of his cuff as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “What if I was?”

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Don’t test me, Y/N,” he warned, his voice a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

You raised a brow, your smirk widening as you leaned closer, your voice a whisper. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Seonghwa. I think I might.”

His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, his free hand coming up to your waist, hovering there like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer. “You’re playing with fire yet again, sweetheart,” he said, his tone rough, a warning, but there was no mistaking the flicker of desire in his eyes.

“Maybe I want to get burned again,” you replied boldly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. San appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his timing impeccable as always. “There you are,” he said casually, glancing between the two of you. “Thought I’d find you here. Hongjoong is looking for you.”

You chuckled, grateful for the interruption, though the lingering heat of Seonghwa’s words stayed with you. “Guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Seonghwa gave you a small smile before stepping back, allowing you to lead the way.

You rejoined the crowd, a polite smile plastered on your face as your thoughts raced. Seonghwa’s intense gaze lingered in your mind, and despite your best efforts, the memory of his voice—low and dangerous—sent a thrill through you.

Hongjoong appeared by your side, handing you a fresh glass of champagne. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

You laughed lightly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm in here.”

“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Seonghwa and the little disappearing act you two pulled earlier, would it?”

You choked on your drink, glaring at your brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you and lover boy vanished for a good five minutes and came back looking… well, let’s just say the air around you was heavy,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Hongjoong, please,” you muttered, your cheeks heating. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Well, just a heads-up—Youngha hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked back in. And Seonghwa hasn’t stopped glaring at him.”

You glanced across the room, spotting Youngha chatting with some older businessmen. True to Hongjoong’s words, his gaze flickered to you more often than not. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed your every move.

The tension was palpable, and the evening dragged on as you navigated small talk and pleasantries. At one point, Mrs. Baek found you, her warm smile a contrast to the subtle competitiveness in her tone as she spoke about her sons and their achievements.

“Youngha’s been asking about you,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s rare for him to show interest in anyone at these events.”

You smiled politely, feeling the weight of her words. “That’s flattering. But I’m not sure he and I have much in common.”

“Perhaps not,” she mused, “but sometimes opposites attract.”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa appeared at your side, his presence commanding as always. “Mrs. Baek,” he greeted smoothly, his voice polite but cool. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

“Oh, I am,” she replied, her smile faltering slightly under his steady gaze. “Y/N was just telling me how charming my younger son, Youngha, is. I take it you have certainly met my son before?”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but his smile didn’t waver. “Youngha is certainly… persistent,” he said, his tone carrying just the slightest edge.

You bit back a laugh, feeling the tension crackling between them. “Excuse us, Mrs. Baek,” Seonghwa said suddenly, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you away. “I need to borrow Ms. Kim here for a moment.”

Once you were out of earshot, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Jealous again?”

He stopped, turning to face you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Right,” you drawled, crossing your arms. “So that little comment about Youngha being persistent was just casual observation?”

“Call it what you want,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “But I wasn’t about to let Mrs. Baek start matchmaking you with him.”

You rolled your eyes, your lips twitching in amusement. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a moment, the noise of the gala faded into the background. His hand lingered at your back, his touch warm and grounding.

“Let’s just get through tonight,” you said finally, your voice quieter. “No more drama.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “No more drama.”

After the gala successfully concluded and you had dinner, you headed back home with your family, Seonghwa trailing behind as he needed to collect some documents from Hongjoong’s office. The ride had been mostly quiet, everyone tired from the long evening.

Once home, your parents quickly retired to bed, muttering about early meetings the next day. Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingered in the office room, discussing business matters, but even your brother eventually called it a night, leaving Seonghwa alone in the hallway. Meanwhile, you had settled in the living room, still buzzing with energy from the evening. You had just finished a call with Yeri when you saw Seonghwa emerging from the office, car keys in hand.

“Heading out?” you called, standing up and walking over to him.

He turned, surprised to see you still awake. “Yeah, I was just about to.”

“Stay a bit?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “If you’re free, that is.”

His expression softened, the faintest smile breaking through his usual composed demeanor. “Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I don’t sleep early anyway,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Come on then. Let’s chill in my room.”

He raised an eyebrow, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his expression. “Your room?”

“What? Too scandalous for you, Mr. Park?” you teased, already heading toward the stairs. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.”

“I’m more worried about myself,” he muttered under his breath, though he followed you up the staircase.

You opened your bedroom door and stepped inside, gesturing for him to follow. “Make yourself comfortable.”

His gaze swept over the space as he entered. Your room was an eclectic mix of modern chic and cozy charm, a reflection of your personality. He walked toward the small seating area near the window, pausing to look at the neatly arranged books on your shelf.

“Nice setup,” he said, glancing back at you. “Very you.”

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on your bed. “What do you think? Should I add a shrine for all my business awards?”

“That might be overkill,” he deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

“You’re no fun.” You reached for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the ambient lights that cast a soft glow across the room. “I’m going to change out of this. Be right back.”

Seonghwa nodded and took a seat on the chair near your window, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he nodded. “Take your time.”

With a small smile, you walked into your walk-in closet, flipping the light on. You set your bag on the shelf and began unclasping your jewelry, placing each piece carefully in its box. The faint murmur of Seonghwa shifting in the other room was the only sound as you reached behind to unzip your dress.

But the zipper refused to budge.

“Seriously?” you muttered, twisting and turning to no avail. After a minute of struggling, you gave up with an exasperated sigh.

Poking your head out of the closet door, you found Seonghwa leaning back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other. His suit jacket and tie were taken off, and the first two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. He glanced up when he noticed you, his brows arching in question.

“Uh… can you help me?” you asked, walking over to him, your tone casual despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “My zipper’s stuck.”

His expression flickered with surprise, then amusement, though he didn’t hesitate to rise from the chair. “Of course.”

Turning your back to him, you felt the warmth of his presence as he stood close behind you. His hands hesitated at first before pushing your hair to one side and then hovering near the zipper.

“Here?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely audible.

His fingers brushed against your back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he tugged it down, the sound of the unzipping loud in the quiet space. The fabric loosened, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. His touch was light, deliberate, but the tension in the air was anything but.

“There,” he murmured when he reached the small of your back, his voice rougher than before.

You turned to face him, clutching the gown to your chest to keep it from slipping. “Thanks,” you said, though the words came out softer than intended.

His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The confined space seemed to shrink as the charged silence stretched. His gaze dropped briefly to your exposed shoulder, then back to your face, and the intensity in his expression made your pulse race.

“You should…” He trailed off, but his voice had a husky edge now. “Finish changing.”

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips. “You’re right,” you said, your tone deliberately light, even as you felt the heat rolling off him. “But it’s much more fun to see you like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice lower now, though his composure was clearly slipping.

“Like you’re trying very hard to look anywhere but here.” You gestured to your bare shoulder with a teasing flick of your fingers, stepping closer.

He took a steadying breath, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. “I’m not trying anything,” he replied, though the slight rasp in his tone betrayed him. He lightly cleared his throat. “Anything else you need?” he asked, his tone laced with challenge.

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Depends,” you murmured, the gown slipping slightly under your grip, exposing more of your chest that immediately caught his eyes. “Can you handle more than a zipper?”

His jaw clenched, his composure visibly cracking. “Y/N…” The way he said your name was almost a warning, but his hand rose, skimming your bare arm before settling firmly on your waist.

“What?” you teased, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Afraid you’ll lose control?”

“I’m not afraid, sweetheart” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly. “But you’re pushing me again.”

“And?” you whispered, closing the distance between you. “What are you going to do about it?”

His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “This,” he growled, before capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but hesitant.

The dress slipped from your grasp, pooling at your feet, leaving you in your matching navy lingerie, but you couldn’t have cared less. His hands were on you, strong and unrelenting, and the heat between you burned away any pretense of restraint as the kiss deepened into something raw, urgent, and utterly consuming.

Seonghwa’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his touch both possessive and reverent. You matched his energy, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a low groan from him that vibrated against your lips. It sent a jolt of electricity straight through you, making you press even closer, as though the two of you couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard you tried.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You smirked, brushing your lips against his again in a teasing kiss. “I might have an idea.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”

“And yet, you can’t stay away,” you shot back, your boldness fueled by the fire between you.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, his tone dropping, heavy with meaning. His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your knees weak. You leaned into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his mouth continued its maddening path along your skin.

“Seonghwa…” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and warning.

His name on your lips seemed to snap something in him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with a tension that left no room for doubt. “If this is too much, tell me now.”

You met his gaze steadily, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop,” you said while undoing the buttons and pushing his shirt off him. “I want this. I want you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips crashed into yours once more, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. You sank onto it, pulling him down with you, your bodies moving in sync as if they’d always known exactly how to fit together.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the fire between you, the room around you fading into oblivion. All that existed was him—his hands, his lips, his presence, consuming you in a way that felt exhilarating.

He pulled away from kissing you to trail kisses from your neck to the valley of your clothed boobs. Your hard nipples were visible beneath the lacy fabric and Seonghwa delicately placed kisses on each one before continuing his journey down your body until he reached the waistband of your thong.

“May I?” he asked for consent, and you nodded in response. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes… please,” you said, hips slightly bucking up in urgency, making him chuckle.

“So needy for me.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing it aside. He gently spread your legs wide apart before moving to settle in between your legs. He latched onto your clit, his wet tongue darting out to lick the bud. Your hand moved into his hair, gently tugging on his long strands, and your body feels like it’s on fire. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, letting out a small moan at your taste. He repeats his actions a couple of times before latching onto your clit again, gently sucking the nub. You squirm, bucking your hips up, and he smirks, moving his arms around your thighs to hold you down in place so you couldn’t move.

“Hwa… god, fuck,” you moan. He hums before lapping at your clit in a faster pace that had you gripping his hair. He let go of one of your thighs to bring his hand to your hole, slipping a finger inside while continuing to lap at your clit, the combination sending you into a moaning spree. It felt so so good, and you chanted his name over and over again while he increased his pace. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened and your hips kept bucking up.

Seonghwa knew you were close, and he continued his actions until you were crying out his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body shaking in response. He licked up all your juices before letting your thighs go, putting his fingers in his mouth to suck them dry. “Delicious,” he commented, and you chuckled breathlessly before you sat up and reached out to his pants. He understood what you wanted and pushed his pants down swiftly along with his briefs, his cock springing out, the tip already a bit leaky.

You moved to wrap your hand around his dick, pumping it a few times. Your thumb brushed along his slit, spreading his pre-cum around. He audibly sucked in a breath through his teeth and you leaned forward to take his cock in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his length, trying to take him as much  as you can in your mouth, using your hand to cover his remaining length. His hand moved to hold your hair back while he watched you suck him off. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to lightly gag, but you continued your movements on him.

“Y/N… my love… fuck…” he murmured, throwing his head back. You hum, the vibration earning a groan from him. You let his cock slip from your mouth and before you could take him in again, he stopped you. “I’d rather cum in you, sweetheart, if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” you said and sit up on your bed, patting the space beside you. Seonghwa sat down and you wasted no time in straddling his lap. “I’m on the pill,” you inform him before aligning his dick with your entrance. You leaned in to take his lips in yours while you sunk down on his cock, moaning at the way he stretched you out.

“So fucking tight, so warm,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, slowly rolling your hips against his before picking up the pace. His hands were wrapped around your body, holding you in place while you bounced on his dick. The sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing, and your moans filled the air and you were grateful that your room was soundproof.

In one swift step, Seonghwa moved you onto your back so he could take control. He thrusted in and out of you in a comfortable pace, your legs moving around his waist. You pulled him even closer, and you felt him go deeper. “Seonghwa…” you cried out his name when he kept repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

He wet a finger with his mouth before bringing it to your clit, rubbing the nub in up and down motions. Your back arched while he fucked your pussy, and before you knew it, you reached your climax, legs shaking rigorously.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart, hold on,” he said, leaning down to reconnect your lips while he moved faster. In a few more seconds, he stilled, spilling his cum into you, his cock pulsing. He moved slowly, milking himself dry before pulling out and collapsing next to you. The two of you laid on your bed in silence, trying to calm down your heavy breathing.

Seonghwa reached out to cup your face with one hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. He glanced around your room, looking for something.

“Where are your tissues?” he asked.

“In the bathroom,” you replied, sitting up. Before you could get off the bed, he put his arm around your back and under your knees, lifting you up bridal-style while he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled in response, earning a wide grin from him before he set you down in your bathroom. He washed his hands while you peed and cleaned yourself, and you noticed the way his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. God, he was so beautiful.

You moved to wrap your arms around him from behind, looking at his reflection in the large mirror of your bathroom. He placed his hands over yours, a happy and relaxing sigh leaving him. “How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” you said with a smile. “How do you feel?”

“Rejuvenated.” You chuckled at that.

“Shower with me?” you asked innocently.

How could he ever say no?

[starset21]

I Know Love Pt. 3

Pairing: Lando Norris x Piastri!sister reader

Summery: She spends race day convincing herself that Lando isn’t serious, that he’s off-limits, and that Oscar was right about everything. She buries herself in work, keeping emotions at bay, but when Lando wins, she avoids the celebration, telling herself it’s for the best. Lando shows up again—this time, knocking on her door.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships.

Looking for more? I know Love Masterlist 

She tells herself she’s fine. She tells herself this as she moves through the paddock on race day, keeping busy, keeping her head down, pretending like last night never happened. Pretending like Oscar’s words didn’t burrow into her skull. Because Oscar was right, wasn’t he? Lando doesn’t do anything serious. Lando doesn’t do commitment. Lando is her brother’s teammate. Lando is off-limits.

She repeats these things over and over in her head as the race unfolds. She watches as Lando makes a great start with Oscar right behind him. She studies data, the radar, tracks strategies, keeps her headset on and her emotions off, though she knew the camera cut to her reaction when Oscar spun in the grass. By the time Lando crosses the finish line in first place, she’s convinced herself that’s the only thing that matters—the race, the job, the reason she’s here in the first place.

So she doesn’t go to the celebration. She takes the team photo and then tells Oscar and the family that she’s tired, that she needs to finish reports, that she’ll catch up later. He doesn’t question it, just gives her a small nod before disappearing into the crowd. And when she slips away from the garage, away from the flashing lights and champagne showers, she feels relief. At least, until she hears footsteps behind her. “You’re leaving?” Lando’s voice is quiet, but there’s something beneath it—something she doesn’t know how to handle.

She turns slowly, finding him standing a few feet away. He’s still in his race suit, the top half unzipped and tied around his waist, his fireproofs clinging to his frame. His hair is damp, curls sticking to his forehead, and there’s a trace of champagne on his skin. She crosses her arms, trying to steel herself. “I have work to do.” His lips twitch, but it’s not in amusement. “Right. So you just happened to leave before the party started? Before I could find you?” he asks. “You’re celebrating, Lando,” she says, forcing herself to sound detached. “You should be with your team. With the people who actually matter.” His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t matter.” Her breath catches, but she forces herself to keep her voice steady. “Lando—”

“No.” He steps closer, eyes locked onto hers. “You don’t get to shut me out just because Oscar thinks he knows how this ends.” Her stomach twists. “It’s not about Oscar.” His brows lift, unconvinced. “Isn’t it?” She swallows hard. “It’s about me not being stupid enough to believe that this—” she gestures vaguely between them “—is anything more than a game to you.” Something flickers in his expression. Not anger. Not frustration. But something deeper. Something that makes her pulse stutter. “You think I’m playing?” His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges. She doesn’t answer.

Lando exhales, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head, like he can’t believe they’re even having this conversation. “I don’t know what this is,” he admits, voice raw. “But I know I don’t want to lose it.” Her chest tightens. She doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the way he’s looking at her, the way his words settle into her bones, permanent and unshakable. So she does the only thing she can. She steps back. “We work together, Lando.” Her voice is quieter now, but still firm. “You’re my brother’s teammate.” His jaw clenches. “And?”

“And,” she exhales, “this is dangerous.” Lando scoffs, shaking his head. “Dangerous? It’s not like we’re plotting a crime.” She glares. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

“I’m not.” His voice is sharper now, more frustrated. “I just don’t get why you’re running from this like it’s some massive fucking mistake.”

“Because it is.” She forces the words out, even though they don’t sit right on her tongue. “Because if this goes wrong, it’s not just my mess. It’s Oscar’s. It’s the team’s. It’s yours.”

Lando exhales harshly, dragging a hand down his face. “Why does everything have to go wrong? Why can’t you just—” He stops himself, like he doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. Like he’s afraid of what he’s trying to say. She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself like it’ll hold everything in place. “This isn’t just about us.” He stares at her for a long moment. “Isn’t it?” he asks quietly.

She doesn’t answer. Because she doesn’t know anymore. Lando watches her for a beat longer, then exhales, stepping back, like he’s giving her space even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. “I meant what I said.” His voice is steady now, sure. “I don’t know what this is. But I know I don’t want to lose it.”

She stands there, frozen, as his words settle in the air between them. It would be easier if he were dismissive. If he laughed it off like it didn’t matter, like she didn’t matter. But he doesn’t. He just looks at her, waiting, like he’s willing to give her all the time in the world to come up with a response—even though they both know she won’t.

Because if she says something, if she lets herself acknowledge that this is real, then she has to face the truth: she wants this just as much as he does. And that? That’s terrifying. So she does what she always does—she pushes forward, past him, toward the paddock exit. “You should go back,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is your night.” She doesn’t wait for his reply. She doesn’t turn around to see if he follows. She just walks, keeping her head down, focusing on the rhythm of her footsteps instead of the ache in her chest. She tells herself she’s fine. She tells herself this as she slips into the quiet of the team motorhome, as she drops into a chair and stares blankly at the laptop screen in front of her.

She stares at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but the words don’t come. The numbers, the data, the post-race reports—none of it registers. All she can hear is his voice. I don’t know what this is, but I know I don’t want to lose it. Her chest tightens as she forces herself to focus. This is what she does. She buries herself in work, in logic, in things that make sense. She doesn’t have the luxury of distractions. Not here. Not now. And certainly not with Lando. But her hands are shaking, and the screen is blurry, and the weight of everything is pressing down on her so hard she can barely breathe. She squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling deeply. She needs to pull it together. Needs to push him out of her head. Needs to remind herself of all the reasons this can’t happen. Because it can’t. She repeats that to herself like a mantra, over and over, like if she says it enough times, she’ll believe it.

But then there’s a knock at the door. She knows who it is before she even looks up. Lando. She should tell him to leave. Should ignore him, pretend she didn’t hear it, pretend she’s already left for the night. But she doesn’t. Instead, she just sits there, staring at the door, waiting for him to go away. The second knock is softer. More hesitant. And then— “I know you’re in there.” She exhales sharply, pressing her hands to her face. He sounds tired. Frustrated. But there’s something else in his voice, too. Something quieter. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond. A beat of silence. Then— “I’m not here to fight.” That’s the problem. If he were here to fight, if he were angry, it would be easier. But he’s not. He’s just him. And that’s what makes this so damn hard. Her fingers tighten into fists against her lap. “Lando—”

“Just open the door,” he says, softer this time. “Please.” She hesitates. She shouldn’t. She knows she shouldn’t. But she does. Slowly, she stands, crossing the small room, pausing with her hand on the handle. One last chance to stop this. One last chance to walk away before she does something reckless. Then, before she can talk herself out of it, she pulls the door open. Lando is standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, damp curls falling into his eyes. He looks at her, really looks at her, and she feels herself unraveling at the edges. For a long moment, neither of them speaks. Then— “You didn’t even stay for the podium.” His voice isn’t accusing. It’s just…quiet. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I told you. I had work.” He exhales, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

Her jaw tightens. “Lando—”

“No.” He takes a step closer, not enough to crowd her, but enough that she feels the warmth of him, enough that she has to fight the urge to reach for him. “You’re scared.” She stiffens. “That’s not—”

“You are.” His eyes search hers, unwavering. “And I don’t blame you. But don’t lie to me. Not about this.” Her breath catches. She wants to deny it. Wants to push him away. Wants to tell him he’s wrong, that she’s fine, that this isn’t real.

But she can’t. Because he’s right. And that terrifies her more than anything. She swallows hard, trying to find something—anything—to say. But Lando beats her to it. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to lose this. And I don’t think you do either.” She looks away, staring at the floor, at the way his fingers curl into fists like he’s holding himself back. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. She opens her mouth. Nothing comes out. Because she can’t tell him that. Because she is scared. Because the truth is sitting in her throat, thick and heavy, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t force herself to say the words that will make him walk away. Lando watches her for a moment longer, then nods—just once—like he understands. Like he already knows her answer, even if she can’t say it out loud. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says softly. And just like that, he’s gone. She stands there long after he’s disappeared down the hall, staring at the empty space where he stood, heart pounding, head spinning.

[turn3tifosi]

VI. the winner takes it all

lewis hamilton x ferrari engineer!reader

lewis and you are no strangers, but the hurt that followed knowing him, makes his announcement for 2025 nothing but dreadful for you

series masterlist | main masterlist

You remember how it all started. The excitement, the passion, the shared dreams, and the relentless ambition. You and Lewis had it all. Or so it seemed. As a top engineer at Ferrari, you lived and breathed motorsport, but it was your relationship with Lewis that made the moments off the track truly special.

It was Monaco 2016, the night before the big race. The sky was clear, and the stars shimmered over the Mediterranean. You met Lewis at a gala, the kind of event where the air buzzed with champagne bubbles and the murmur of high society. Lewis, with his charming smile and magnetic presence, was the center of attention, but when he looked at you, it was as if the world stopped. You talked about cars, strategies, and everything in between. There was an instant connection.

Over time, your relationship blossomed. The thrill of sneaking away for secret dates, the late-night conversations about life beyond racing, and the quiet moments where you could just be yourselves. Those were the times you cherished the most.

One night, as you both lay on the balcony of his apartment overlooking the city, Lewis rested his head on your lap, a rare moment of vulnerability from the world champion. “You know, sometimes I really wish I could run away from all the fame and people, and live a quiet life with you,” he whispered, his eyes closed in contentment.

You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the weight of his words. “No Lewis, you love this. You love the fame and the cameras, it’s me who wishes you could run away from it all. I’m the selfish one.”

But love is never simple, especially when it’s tangled with the relentless pressure of professional success. Lewis's career skyrocketed, and with every victory, every championship, the distance between you grew. You were proud of him, of course, but the endless races, the media frenzy, and the never-ending demands on his time left little room for you.

It all came to a head after his fourth world championship win. The victory party was grand, a glittering affair that went on till dawn. But amid the celebration, you felt like a ghost, invisible and alone. You tried to talk to him, but he was swept away by adoring fans, sponsors, and the endless parade of well-wishers. When he finally found a moment, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment, you believed he meant it. But apologies couldn't bridge the growing chasm between you.

You tried to hold on, but the nights grew colder, and the days lonelier. Eventually, the strain became too much. One evening, after a particularly brutal argument, you packed your bags and walked out of his life, leaving behind the man you loved and the dreams you had built together.

Fast forward to 2024. Your career at Ferrari flourished, and you buried yourself in work to forget the heartache. But fate, or maybe Lewis has a cruel sense of humor. The announcement came out of the blue: Lewis Hamilton was joining Ferrari for the 2025 season.

The paddock buzzed with the news, but for you, it was a gut punch. The thought of working with him again, seeing him every day, was almost unbearable. But you were a professional, and you wouldn't let personal history affect your work.

The first meeting was awkward, to say the least. You avoided eye contact, focusing on the technical briefing, the strategies for the upcoming season. But you could feel his eyes on you, a silent plea for acknowledgment.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension simmered. It all came to a head one evening after a particularly long day at the track. You were in the garage, going over some data, when Lewis walked in.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and strained.

You didn’t look up. “There’s nothing to talk about, Lewis. Let’s just do our jobs.”

He stepped closer, his presence impossible to ignore. “I’m sorry. For everything. I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but-”

You finally met his gaze, the familiar pain and longing in his eyes. “You might have won the races and championships, but you don't get my heart back.”

He flinched as if struck. “I know I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right. I miss you.”

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, but the wounds were too deep. “It’s too late, Lewis. We had our chance.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but you turned away, focusing back on your work. The silence was heavy, laden with unspoken words and lingering regrets.

Working together was a constant reminder of what was and what could have been. Yet, slowly, a new dynamic formed. Professional respect replaced personal tension, and while the past remained a painful shadow, you both found a way to coexist.

Lewis never stopped trying to mend the rift. Little gestures, a coffee waiting at your desk, a supportive word during a tough day. But you held firm, guarding your heart against further hurt.

As the season progressed, Ferrari thrived. The collaboration between the engineers and drivers was seamless, and the team’s performance improved dramatically. There were moments, brief and fleeting, where you saw a glimpse of the man you had once loved, not the racing superstar, but the man who had shared his dreams and fears with you.

And in those moments, you wondered if, maybe someday, you could find it in your heart to forgive. But for now, you were content to focus on the present, the thrill of the race, and the drive to win.

Because in the world of motorsport, as in life, the winner takes it all. And you were determined to be a winner, with or without him.

[seriouslycromulent]

The Math Ain't Mathing

So I'm sure people are going to accuse me of being a conspiracy theorist, but the more I think about the results of this US election, the more it's clear that things aren't adding up.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm well aware of the US's long history of racism and misogyny, and it is totally possible -- in theory -- that more people voted for a moronic straight, white male who is an ajudicated grapist and convicted felon over a more-than-qualified, intelligent, results-driven woman of color for a position as leader of the wealthiest nation on earth.

I'm not saying that couldn't happen. But did it? Legitimately?

The more I think about Trump's campaign, the more fishy this result seems.

So here was a man with ...

virtually no policies (that he could talk about openly),

no ground game,

no door knocking apparatus to urge folks to get out the vote,

no phone banking,

he was constantly running out of money and had to shill products to raise more,

stole money from down ballot candidates, putting their marketing strategies at risk,

found liable for SA,

found guilty of millions of dollars in fraud,

constantly rambles and shows clear signs of being mentally unwell,

invokes violent and hateful language against specific communities as well as individuals,

bragged about being a dictator on Day 1,

had over 40 former cabinet members declare him unfit for office,

was called a fascist by his own former chief of staff,

was not endorsed by any reputable economists,

saw a flood of lifelong Republicans -- literally millions of them -- abandon their party to vote for his opponent,

has been impeached twice,

has seen sharply, dwindling crowd sizes at his rallies for the last 6 weeks,

... and somehow he won the popular vote by 5 million?

Even though he never won the popular vote in 2016? Or 2020?

Suddenly he "found" a bunch of votes from people who liked him?

Um, no.

Just no.

One of Trump's biggest failings is that he and his team tell lies like children. That is, they've never learned how to keep things believable. Like a misguided 10-year-old who is desperate to impress someone with his whopper of a tale, he always exaggerates to the point of hyperbole and insults our intelligence.

For example, he told us his rally at Wildwood, NJ, this past summer had 108,000 even though the town itself only has 80,000 residents and the venue he held the rally in only held 20,000 people.

Or how he kept insisting that American kids are going to school and somehow receiving gender reassignment surgery over a couple of days and without parental consent before being sent home.

Each lie is so over the top and grandiose it makes him look infantile while at the same time insults our knowledge of reality.

And that's exactly what this feels like.

There is no way this man won the majority of the votes and the popular vote after only winning due to the electoral college the first time and not at all the second time. More people vilify him now than they did in 2016 and 2020, and that's saying something.

There just aren't enough voters in the US to give him a clear path to victory here no matter how committed his sycophants are to white supremacy. MAGA voters are not the majority of the voting electorate.

Also the fact that the exit polling data is suspiciously similar to the same tall tales Trump's been selling for the past year about how he had a ton of support in the Latino and Black communities, despite there being no data to support it at all. He was polling damn near 0% in some majority black communities like Detroit and Atlanta.

Yeah ... no.

This math ain't mathing.

I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but I know when something isn't adding up. And nothing about these results add up at all.

On top of that, they ran their entire campaign like they didn't care about people getting out to vote. They kept insulting different segments of the electorate over and over again, as if they didn't need the votes of single people or people without children.

Plus, we saw record voter registration leading up to the election. More people voting early in state after state, and millions of people voting for the first time in their lives. But somehow there were fewer votes cast in this 2024 election than in the 2020 election?

Hell, Georgia alone tripled its early voter turnout. So how is this election getting fewer votes than 4 years ago?!

There were historically longer lines than ever before in parts of the country that never saw long lines, and yet there were millions fewer votes counted so far this year? Are we really to believe that all those long lines and so many new voters managed to only add up to 136M versus 158M who voted in 2020?

I call bullshit!

Also, a number of folks are commenting on how quickly the states were called. In all my years of voting, I've never seen a US election turning around so fast.

Yeah, the math ain't mathing.

Sure, he could've eeked out a win via the Electoral College without the popular vote like he did in 2016, but given her momentum and the majority of the polls either favoring her or having had them tied, none of these results pass the smell test.

Meanwhile, Harris had a multigenerational, multiracial, multiethnic, multigendered coalition of enthusiastic supporters who volunteered, phone banked, door knocked, and fundraised in every state plus D.C. Her media strategy was savvy, her interviews were sharp and intelligible, and her demeanor was inclusive and congenial. Again, not putting anything past good ole American racism and misogyny, but all the data showed that her supporters were clearly larger in number and more enthusiastic than his.

Long story short --

I do believe we are witnessing the American government being hijacked and a dictator installed right before our very eyes.

[astronauticalaspirations]

Trump's NASA budget will kill nuclear space propulsion research if implemented, just a few years after we finally got it started again. Sorry to get so political on here, but this is not an America first decision. Trump is once again sabotaging America's leadership in space on flimsy, short-sighted grounds.

The article is pretty long but good, echoing a lot of the complaints I have with this decision. Cutting nuclear space propulsion (both thermal and electric) research is a terrible idea when the NASA budget cuts are ostensibly in aid of getting astronauts to Luna and Mars over all other priorities. Luna we can do with chemical rockets, but doing Mars on chemical is quite challenging:

Last week, SpaceX founder Elon Musk outlined how the company plans to land its first Starships on Mars. His roadmap includes more than 100 cargo flights to deliver equipment to produce methane and liquid oxygen propellants on the surface of Mars. This is necessary for any Starship to launch off the Red Planet and return to Earth. "You can start to see that this starts to become a Rube Goldberg way to do Mars," Polzin said. "Will I say it can't work? No, but will I say that it's really, really difficult and challenging. Are there a lot of miracles to make it work? Absolutely. So the notion that SpaceX has solved Mars or is going to do Mars with Starship, I would challenge that on its face. I don't think the analysis and the data bear that out."

Once again, we're going all-in on Starship, even though it's an unproven design servicing a...questionable architecture. Maybe it will work, maybe it won't—but the US government needs a competitive launch market. This strategy does the opposite.

NASA's nuclear power program is not finished. The Trump administration's budget proposal calls for continued funding for the agency's fission surface power program, with the goal of fielding a nuclear reactor that could power a base on the surface of the Moon or Mars. Lockheed and BWXT, the contractors involved in the DRACO mission, are part of the fission surface power program.

At least kilopower will survive...for now. Walking away from that would have been a true disaster.

Fun fact: Jared Isaacman was openly in favor of nuclear rockets, and Trump just rescinded his nomination for NASA administrator for rather vague reasons. It's not inconceivable that pushback over decisions motivated Trump to do so. After all, loyalty seems to be the only virtue that President Trump actually values. He certainly doesn't value American leadership and preeminence on the world stage, or he wouldn't be going to such length to hamstring the space program.

Congress could end this insanity, easily. But for that, a critical number of Republicans would have to break with Trump, and such an act of disloyalty could be career-ending. So, in all likelihood, the Make America Great Again party will succeed in preventing exactly that!

[thoughtportal]

Here's everything you need to know about the tariffs. Why they're happening, why now, and what to do as a lowly little peasant with no power. First off, you need to know that it has nothing to do with bringing manufacturing back to the US. Tariffs are happening because the US empire is crumbling. Basically Trump is doing the work of the financial and tech elite who are trying to claw their way back into the center of global finance. How? By reasserting dominance by state-backed protectionism. Really since the 70s, the US has been the global reserve currency because of a deal that we made with OPEC. That deal said that oil would be priced exclusively in US dollars and that oil profits would be reinvested into US assets and in exchange that would get US military protection and weapons. This petrodollar system let the US run massive deficits without crashing the currency. This artificial dollar demand meant that we could print money infinitely. Waging wars, tax cuts, bailouts, without worries of immediate inflation. Meanwhile, all that oil profit that was being funneled into the US economy meant that we could keep interest rates low, feed all these speculative bubbles, and support stagnant wages with increasing consumer debt. But quite possibly the most important thing this did was give the US incredible power on the global stage. We could discipline and control entire nations through access to the IMF and World Bank or sanctions. This is how we have destroyed or stunted the development of socialist nations across the world. But now that system is unraveling. China, Russia, Saudi Arabia, and Iran are de-dollarizing. They're trading oil and other currencies, they have alternative payment systems, and they're rapidly dumping US assets. If the dollar loses its reserve status, the US loses its exorbitant privilege, the ability to spend without consequences and bully others through financial dominance. How the US and US capitalists are trying to reconstitute their hegemony, and that's where the tariffs come in. Tariffs are a power play to shield the US from the consequences of its own decay. Through tariffs, trade policy, and military threats, the US government is trying to force the world to play by the rules of American tech and financial institutions. This new strategy has a goal to make US tech the infrastructure for the global economy. If we can't rule because of oil and debt, we can try and rule through cloud storage or payment facilitation or surveillance infrastructure. The government wants US companies like Apple, Google, Stripe, PayPal, or MasterCard or whatever be indispensable nodes in the circuits of global commerce. These tariffs also punish other countries like China or India or the European Union for passing data privacy laws, anti-monopoly rules that cut into the profits of US tech companies. The US is both protection but also coercion, make them both back off and pay up. So will it work? Probably not. But that doesn't mean you're not going to feel the effects of it. Higher prices and more instability are going to become the norm. So what do we do? The biggest thing is to reduce consumption wherever possible. The less you feed the beast, the less it feeds on you. Cut off US companies from your data and your dollars. Delete the apps, quit the brands, starve the machine. Build solidarity networks. Support your friends materially and emotionally. Strengthen the relationships that capitalism has hollowed out. Join a union, join a community organization, join a mutual aid group. Broaden your relationships into your larger community. And definitely join a political party that isn't the Democrats. Remember, AOC and Bernie won't save us. We save us. I wish there was more we could do right now, but that's at least stuff we can do right now.

Video by Means TV

[gamesetattach]

Coming Soon!! - Williams Race Strategist!Reader x Jannik Sinner Part 4

Still editing, but the next segment of our power couple's series is coming out tonight at 9.00 PM PST! Did some maths, schedule stalking etc. and found that the Las Vegas Grand Prix almost always aligns with the Davis Cup finals... more or less. And so I'm using that as the foundation for this fic's plot. Action is going on for both reader and Sinner, super important and hyped events for both parties; its happening simultaneously yet separately... So yeah, let's see how that plays out for the pair... Here's a short little excerpt for now. Catch up on the first few parts of the series here

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You stood on the pit wall, headset on, eyes glued to the data streaming across the monitors in front of you. Alex Albon and Carlos Sainz in their cars, their voices crackling over the radio as they prepared for the formation lap. You gave them both final words of encouragement, masking your own nerves.

As the lights went out and the race began, you threw yourself into the strategy. Every pit stop, every tire change, every adjustment to the plan required your full attention. But in the quiet moments, when there was nothing to do but wait for a car to cross a sector, your thoughts drifted to Jannik. How did his match go? Was Italy up? How was he feeling?

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Still very much working out the kinks, I am stubbornly trying to be as accurate as possible with time zones, schedules, etc. and that's proving to be a little annoying... might give up and just take some creative liberties, but hey, stay tuned... xx

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Arthur Delaney at HuffPost:

WASHINGTON — Republicans have a strategy for moving Medicaid cuts through Congress when many of their own members say they can’t support cuts: Don’t call them cuts. House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) said Tuesday that nobody will miss the hundreds of billions of dollars Republicans want to chop from the program, which covers health care costs for more than 70 million Americans. “We’re not gutting Medicaid. We’re going to reduce fraud, waste and abuse, which every single American should be applauding,” Johnson said. The meaning of “fraud, waste and abuse” in this context includes regular Medicaid benefits for unemployed adults without children or disabilities, who have received coverage in most states thanks to the health care reform signed into law by President Barack Obama in 2010. The money spent covering their health costs, in Republicans’ view, is a waste. Even among the Republicans who’ve said they won’t vote for Medicaid cuts, a “work requirement” policy banning certain unemployed adults does not count as a cut. “They should be seeking the skill sets for better jobs,” Rep. Don Bacon (R-Neb.) told HuffPost on Tuesday. “I think most Americans support this. If you’re an able-bodied adult with no children, you should be seeking the skills or seeking a better job.” Bacon was one of a dozen moderate House Republicans who said in a letter to party leaders this month they wouldn’t support legislation with “any reduction in Medicaid coverage for vulnerable populations.” Medicaid cuts are a crucial part of the “big beautiful bill” Republicans hope to send to President Donald Trump’s desk this year, with the savings intended to offset part of the cost of $5 trillion or more in tax cuts. Spending reductions in Medicaid and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program could reduce the cost of the bill by more than $1 trillion.

[...] When the first Trump administration granted Arkansas a waiver to deny Medicaid benefits to able-bodied adults in 2018, more than 18,000 people lost coverage — about 25% of the population subject to the requirement, thanks in part to the difficulties people had in fulfilling the state’s paperwork requirements. Federal survey data show that, in general, most non-elderly adults on Medicaid already work full or part time, with a significant number of those not working engaged in caregiving or attending school. Republicans included a work requirement for childless Medicaid recipients aged 19 to 55 in a piece of legislation that failed to pass in 2023. The Congressional Budget Office estimated the policy would save $109 billion over 10 years by canceling federal funding for Medicaid benefits for 1.5 million people, with states using their own funds to cover 60% of those affected while another 600,000 people were expected to wind up uninsured. Another estimate, by the Urban Institute, said around 5 million would lose coverage under the policy.

[...] Republicans are also looking to require more frequent eligibility checks for Medicaid recipients, and they’re considering reducing the percentage of Medicaid spending covered by the federal government. The latter policy, which would likely lead states to drop their own Medicaid spending, could result in as many as 20 million people losing coverage if Republicans pursue it in an aggressive form and states don’t increase spending to fill the void.

More lies from the Republicans: They claim that imposing Medicaid work requirements don’t count as “cuts.” They are cuts, no matter how you spin it.

[thefrogsennaneverfound]

let's not forget that ricciardo once made a bet with helmut marko back in 2018 that bottas would lose his seat by the end of the season. all purely for his own shits and giggles.

fed the narrative that red bull were doing him dirty causing a load of hate to be sent to verstappen by his pack of rabid fans, when in reality verstappen was just better than him.

was happy to let his rabid stans mock esteban ocon's ability all across social media when they were teammates at renault and made a few sideways jabs egging them on, because esteban was losing to him.

spent the months before joining mclaren making digs about norris's age and experience, disguised as jokes but clearly mind games, and spoke about norris like he was a child who needed to be shown by the master (him) how to drive. (boy did karma bite him on that one)

egged on the interviewers making mugging jokes and then pretended to grab norris's new watch off his wrist during an interview just days after norris had been held in a chokehold and mugged, then laughed like norris was being a bad sport when he understandably didn't find the jokes funny and walked out of the interview.

put out that pr statement about being committed to mclaren purely for pr purposes, bringing a deluge of hate onto the team when it was announced they'd dropped him. later came out he already knew the writing was on the wall at that point so clearly did it just to try to turn the narrative into a pity party for him before word got out.

he/his team also deliberately fed misleading information to espn during his time at mclaren saying that norris was only beating him because it was the only car he had ever driven in f1 and it was tailored around him and implying norris was overrated, only for him to be forced to admit when directly asked in an interview once he had left the team that the car hadn't suited norris either and that he was frequently baffled by the things he could see on the data that norris was able to do with the car that he just wasn't able to.

agreed pre-race in baku 2022 to the strategy of the two mclaren's holding station in whichever order they were at the end of the first lap in order to work together to use drs to keep the alpine of ocon behind, only for him to then get on the radio knowing it would be broadcast to whinge about how unfair it was that lando was holding him up from getting past alonso, forcing the team to tell him no they weren't swapping them and making the team look bad. he was pissy he hadn't been the lead mclaren at the end of the lap so had to hold behind and knew exactly what he was doing with that radio message. admitted after the race that the strategy had been arranged beforehand and that he wouldn't have got past alonso either as the mclaren was so slow on the straight, but by then the damage was done and norris and the team were being dragged all over social media by his rabid dog-pack.

never once condemned his fans for bullying his mclaren mechanics on social media (to the point one of their wives was posting begging the staniels to stop because it was having an adverse affect on the mechanics' mental health), didn't condemn them sending death threats to his engineer after the radio in baku when tom stallard asked him if the car was okay (he didn't realise ricciardo had crashed at this point, he thought the car had broken down), made digs that fed into his stans mocking norris's very real mental health struggles, and didn't condemn them from sending hate to a mental health charity that mclaren work with.

took visible pleasure in being undeservedly handed de vries's seat on a silver platter last season.

he is not mr nice guy at all. he is incredibly manipulative and good at playing the pr game. he also gets away with some really cruel jokes and jabs by putting on the 'joker' smile and playing the it's only banter card.

egged on the interviewers making mugging jokes and then pretended to grab norris's new watch off his wrist during an interview just days after norris had been held in a chokehold and mugged, then laughed like norris was being a bad sport when he understandably didn't find the jokes funny and walked out of the interview.

Another very salient point I'd forgotten about. Thanks for pointing out this and so many other examples of his nasty behaviour.

he is not mr nice guy at all. he is incredibly manipulative and good at playing the pr game. he also gets away with some really cruel jokes and jabs by putting on the 'joker' smile and playing the it's only banter card.

Absolutely; this takes us right back 'round to the 'charming bully' analogy. The likes of Tsunoda don't make a fuss about his bullying so he gets away with it. Norris does make it clear that he doesn't think it's in the least bit funny (it was downright fucking cruel to bate him like that) so he twists it to make the victim look bad. Utterly vile behaviour and, sadly, Ricciardo is a long way from being in a minority of people who get away with it.

I really do appreciate you taking the time to add to the ever lengthening list of why that obnoxious twerp is such a wrong 'un. It's likely that some folks reading our descriptions of his behaviour will recognise people in their own lives who've been getting away with treating them badly just because they know they can get away with it. Maybe it'll give them the courage to be a Lando rather than a Yuki (although I don't mean to disparage Tsunoda) and make a stand.