wolfyychan

[wolfyychan]

Guilty As Sin Masterlist

-part 1

-part 2

-part 3

-part 4

-part 5

[wolfyychan]

That's his thinking face

[wolfyychan]

jungkook fic recs list (part 3) ౨ৎ

i’m more than a month late i’m sorry :’( but part 3 is finally here!! i hope you enjoy these stories, all of them are sosososo good and well written! the authors are amazing <3 minors dni!

⭑ part 1, part 2

a- angst f- fluff s- smut

series (completed)

candles & flames by @taegularities

enemies to lovers, royal!au (a, f, s)

He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

an abundance of luck & a sprinkle of fate by @borathae

ceo!jungkook x sexworker!reader, strangers to lovers!au, bdsm, hurt and comfort (a, f, s)

"When two souls, with different reasons for why life has broken them, find together, it needs a whole lot of a luck and a little bit of fate to make them see that maybe healing together isn’t as bad as it sounds.” 

the farmhouse by @solecize

childhood friends to lovers/small town au (a, f)

every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts

bisexual boyfriend!yoongi x female!reader x jungkook, snippets of life!au (a, s, a bit of f)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

evolution of a lover’s heart by @jeonstudios

college au, fuckboy au, bet au (a, f, s)

the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins

blackout by @jjungxkook

best friends to lovers, roommate au, college au (f, s)

Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

how many by @yoon-kooks

jungkook x tattoo artist!reader, bad boy!au (f, s)

To Jeon Jungkook, you're just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you're also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you've taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

series (ongoing)

something about you by @ahundredtimesover

friends au, vacation au, semi slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; ays jk; PE teacher!jk and researcher!oc (f, s?)

You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

teach me how to love by @kookooluvr

fwb!au, co-workers!au, professor!jungkook, professor!reader, fwb2l, slow burn (a, f, s)

jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

bad decisions (ao3) by @alphabetboyluvr

bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb (a, f, s)

it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

oneshots

petal to the metal by @luxekook

jewelry-maker jungkook x florist reader, idiots to lovers (a, f)

every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned just for the handsome jewelry-maker whose booth was next to yours. 

the kids aren’t alright by @sketchguk

fwb!jeongguk x pastor’s kid (p.k)!reader, f2l, fwb au (a, f, s)

sneaking around with jeongguk during your christian retreat is complicated when you’re both dedicated to your jobs as co-youth group counselors at your father’s ministry.

paddle with me (two-shot) by @yoongsgguktae

campcounselor!au, e2l, pwp (s)

when your camp leader forces you and jeongguk as partners in a team building activity. with frustrations and anger flaring during your journey down the river, how will all this pent-up emotion get released?

mind in the gutter by @kpopfanfictrash

bowling!au, workplace!au, rom-com (s)

Starting over is never fun. Especially not when you decide to take the phrase fully to heart; new job, new city, new coworkers and new relationships. When you are dragged to a happy hour by your new co-worker, Taehyung, you end up sitting beside a (very) cute, (very) shy IT worker named Jungkook. Several drinks later, he mentions he is in a professional bowling league with his friends and you rather enthusiastically invite yourself along. As time passes and you begin to grow closer, you still find it impossible to read Jungkook. Working in the same company and seeing each other so often, it is only so long before one of you snaps. But who?

sleepover by @personasintro

best friend's brother au (f, s)

Jeongguk is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?

[wolfyychan]

healing smile ♡

[wolfyychan]

samee

And Now the Screaming Starts! (1973) dir. Roy Ward Baker

[wolfyychan]

gnab

genre: gnab, gnab, gnab

pov: gnab

description: gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

pairing: gnab x gnab

warnings: gnab, gnab, gnab, gnab, gnab, gnab, gnab

gnab count: 2,714

©gnab (2025) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

☀️Feelbokkie M.list ☀️

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab keeps gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab hug gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab

"Gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab, gnab, gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab...gnab gnab gnab Gnab $120 gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnabod gnab gnab Gnab gnab $20 gnab gnab guys," Gnab roll gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "Gnab gnab $40. GNAB gnab gnab gnab $120 gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab."

Gnabp

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnabod gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.”

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab, GNAB gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab.”

Gnab, gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab…?”

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab,” Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab.” Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.” Gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, gnab gnab means Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, "GNAB...GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gears gnab gnab gnab gnab "GNAB gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab...Gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab--" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab: gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab neighbor gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab 'gnab,' GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab,"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab? Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab, gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab,"

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab--"

"--GNAB gnab,"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB--GNAB--" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab Gnab Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab--

"...gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gna...gnab?" Gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"GNAB gnab, 'Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.'" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

Gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab."

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab gnab?"

Gnab. Gnab. Gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab,"

Gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab?"

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab? Gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab, GNAB gnab--" Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab--Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab! Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab-gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB. Gnab. Gnab."

"GNAB gnab gnab, Gnab. GNAB gnab, gnab. GNAB gnab--" Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB--" Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab!"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab! Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab--"

"Gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab...?" Gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. "Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab...gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB...gnab gnab...gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab, gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab gnab, Gnab gnab--"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab. Gnab,"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab none gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab. GNAB gnab GNAB gnab gnab, gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, "GNAB gnab gnab. GNAB gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab. Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab-gnab gnab gnab gnab--"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab--gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab--gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, GNAB gnab--" Gnab, gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"--Gnab gnab gnab gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab,"

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab...gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab...gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab "gnab gnab" gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab-gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB gnab gnab,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist (open)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyysfics @berryblog @jaydebow @junebug032 @boiohboii

@heistheavatar @lieslab @rainbae-anon @k-cock @hamburgers101

@mrswolfiechan @soulboundauthor @weird-bookworm @thisisnotjacinta @seungmyynie

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@phtogravi @jiisungllvr @puppyminnnie @velvetmoonlght

[wolfyychan]

HAHA DIVA

[wolfyychan]

alex albon // aa23 fix recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

smau

my boyfriend’s boyfriend - @5sospenguinqueen

“when you start publicly declaring your love for your boyfriend, george takes it as a challenge to prove he loves him more. and poor alex is caught in the middle of it all”

close to you - @afterglowsainz

“after your boyfriend starts hanging out more with his future teammate, your start catching feelings for him, not knowing that he also seems to be interested in him”

lewis hamilton // lh44 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

second heart - @pucksandpower

“all you’ve ever wanted was to be able to race just like your Papai … no matter the cost (or in which always going for a gap that exists runs in the Senna family)”

celebrity - @formulawolff

too fast - @formulawolff

“as lewis hamilton's assistant, you find yourself amidst a heated exchanged one night in vegas”

smau

he's a genius ('cause he loves a woman like her) - @monzabee

“the one where you and lewis (attempt to) soft launch your relationship”

pr chaos - @driverlando

“all the times y/n has been horny on main for lewis”

mick schumacher // ms47 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

a vettel and a schumacher walk into a bar - @monzabee

“the one where mick is dating seb’s eldest daughter, but forgets to mention this to his mentor and close friend. another problem? he can’t seem to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you”

count me in - @verstarppen

“slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines”

lance stroll // ls18 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

smau

golden - @norrisainz33

“lance and his long term partner and actress, y/n, attend the golden globes”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

[wolfyychan]

♡ GRACIE'S MASTERLIST (FORMULA 1) ♡

♡ laps inside your head (smau) -> carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader

♡ when it happened to me (we hug now) (drive to surviva au) -> lando norris x fem!teammate!reader

♡ pretty little things on pretty little girls (text au) -> ft. lewis hamilton, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris

♡ sleep on the couch tonight (text au) -> ft. carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, lando norris, and daniel ricciardo

♡ bet you wanna love me now (smau) -> lewis hamilton x fem!engineer reader

[wolfyychan]

Because it's Max Verstappen's Birthday, here is a little appreciation post for him memes and all other I found on Pinterest

[wolfyychan]

⟡ ₒₜₕₑᵣ dᵣᵢᵥₑᵣₛ ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱᵈ ⟡

thirsty thoughts (s) - @lorarri

missing piece (a) - @katebishopsbow

grid kids (series, sebastian vettel and grid) - @pucksandpower

birthday wishes (max is the bf but focused on everyone) (smau) - @mclqren

points have been made (lestappen x reader) - @sinofwriting

birthday wishes (charles is the bf but focused on everyone) (smau) - @astonmartinii

heartbreak syndrome (mostly the grid but ex!max and eventual lewis) - @h4m1lt0ns

the grid's delight (series) - @sebscore

— ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒˢ/ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ⟡

makeup shopping with the boys (f) - @verstappen-cult

getting caught making out with the boys (sexual references) (^)

boys reacting to being called pretty (mostly f) - @ln444

dating f1 drivers (mostly f) - @hauntedrain

"where they would like to kiss you" (f) - @itsvelyria

f1 drivers and their favorite types of hugs (f) - @mirohlayo

ass or tits (s) - @youaresimplylovely

"what did you just call me" (f) - @23victoria

“i love you” (f) (^)

he takes care of you on your period (f) - @fastandcarlos

when f1 drivers dirty text you (and you pretend your dad answers) (s) - @maxtermind

fuckbuddy!f1 drivers getting jealous (f,a,s) (^)

f1 drivers reacting to the hickeys they left on you (s) (^)

putting f1!drivers on a sex ban (s) (^)

accidently telling your f1!boyfriend you think he likes someone else (a) (^)

blind girl (f, suggestive) - @hamilando

unbreakable (a) - @amberjazmyn

how the f1 drivers would kiss you (f, suggestive) - @uluvjay

bereals with your f1 bf - @lilasamaaa

f1 boys and their moments of quiet admiration for you (f) - @itaipava

tease (s) - @hugleclerc

cheating two (^)

f175 (^)

new year with your f1 boyfriend (f) - @jungwnies

scaring your f1 boyfriend (f) (^)

there's always a first for everything (suggestive, f) (^)

nonsense christmas (f,s) - @pha55ed

you're jealous of a baby (f) - @verstappensrealwife

flowers (f) - @merchelsea

favorite days (f) - @moonlight-records

crush chaos (f,s) - @f1amour

let's get physical (s) (^)

wedding shenanigans (f) - @no-144444

when the media says something insane (^) (f, tw: danica patrick)

love marks (s) - @tpwk-formula1

affection with the f1 grid - @incomplete-leclerc

— ˡᵉʷⁱˢ ʰᵃᵐⁱˡᵗᵒⁿ ⟡

king of my heart (smau) - @cieloclercs

keys to the benz (smau, sexual innuendo) - @imnameimswrld

him being a simp for you (headcannon) - @itaipava

thick and thin (f,a)- @agendabymooner

lawyer up (smau) - @monzabee

war is over (tw: brocedes mention) (f) - @pucksandpower

you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love (smau) - @redwinelew

baby, i like flirting (smau) (^)

lucky charm (smau) - @maplesyrupsainz

chapter 25 (smau) - @edwardslvrr

— ᵈᵃⁿⁱᵉˡ ʳⁱᶜᶜᵃʳᵈᵒ ⟡

ultimate wing man (smau) - @astonmartinii

keep it private (smau) - @marlenesluv

forever kind of love (smau) - @chrisevansonly

my book worm (smau) - @lewisvinga

— ᵃʳᵗʰᵘʳ ˡᵉᶜˡᵉʳᶜ ⟡

kissing in the rain (f) - @thebearchives

forgiveness (f) - @starlost97

fan behavior (smau) - @lxclerc

it's you and me (smau) - @lecsainz

party girl two (smau) - @natailiatulls07

amour (smau) - @marlenesluv

happy tears (f) - @versairic

through the night (f,a) - @menteycorazoncito

matchmaking brothers - @5sospenguinqueen

— ˢᵉᵇᵃˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᵛᵉᵗᵗᵉˡ ⟡

just you wait sunshine (a) - @unsolvedjarin

helmet kisses (headcannons) - @forteafy

drink water, not alchol (f) - @sebscore

me and my husband (smau) - @starkwlkr

fever dream it's nothing new i wait for you (smau) (^)

cherry flavoured (rbr!seb my love) (f) (^)

miss honey (f) (^)

always an angel, never a god (!!!! EASTING DISORDER !!!) (a) (^)

come back to me (CRASH) (a)- @lucyrose191

about you (series, f)- @drvscarlett

merry christmas, please don't call (a) - @bestalbertcamuslover

— ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵒ ᶜᵒˡᵃᵖⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⟡

mi bonita (smau) - @harrysfolklore

nothing special (f,a) - @p1astr81

mi vida (smau) - @n0vazsq

getaway (f) - @mywritersmind

WAG in training (smau) - @5sospenguinqueen

el coqueto (f) - @theonottsbxtch

all of the boys you loved before (f,a) - @wcters

let's reconnect (smau) (^)

fan favorite (smau) - @menagerofmischief

gold rush (smau) - @afterglowsainz

challenge accepted (smau) - @hugleclerc

the secret's out (smau) - @goldsainz

[wolfyychan]

i wish you roses

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

word count: 8.0k

warning(s): angst !!

summary: inspired by ‘i wish you roses’ - kali uchis. in which no one can have it all, not even lewis hamilton. sometimes the best way to love, is to let go.

a/n: my first time writing for lewis! i just had to take a break from the blurbs to write this, and honestly i love how it turned out 🥹 enjoy!

masterlist

“Now we have one more question, Lewis…” The interviewer teases with a grin, “You and your girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n have been the most talked about couple inside the paddock ever since you debuted your relationship. If you’re comfortable answering, what does your future look like together?”

“If I had a crystal ball, I would tell you.” Lewis jests, deflecting as he always does best. The personal questions have never been his favorite.

“Of course you’ve been very protective of your personal life, and rightfully so, but the people wanna know! Do you see yourselves getting married? Possibly raising a future World Champion or two?”

Lewis chuckles, wondering how he’ll successfully play this off. “Like I said, I can’t predict the future. What I can tell you is that I’m absolutely committed to Scuderia Ferrari and what we plan to achieve together. That’s the only “marriage” I’m focused on.” The interviewer thanks Lewis, leaving him to carry on with the rest of his day of his media day.

But not even hours pass before the interview is published, making headlines on every platform possible, with each one more gossipy than the last. It wasn’t until your best friend sent you an ‘Everything okay?’ text that you started to panic.

Your first instinct was to check Google first, knowing the press has more access to your life than you’re comfortable with. One of the many tradeoffs you’d come to accept with dating Lewis. There was always something to talk about, you have to brace yourself for anything.

‘Still He Rises… Alone? SHOCKING Revelation on Hamilton’s Next Chapter’

‘What’s that Sound? Not Wedding Bells, says Lewis Hamilton’

‘All that Glitters isn’t Gold: Trouble in Paradise for F1’s Golden Couple’

‘Not so Fast: F1 Bachelor Lewis Hamilton ENDS Marriage Rumors with Longtime Girlfriend Y/n Y/l/n’

Your eyes couldn’t stop scanning over the headlines that lit up your screen, as if reading them again and again would somehow change the words or make them disappear altogether. It wasn’t heartbreak that struck you, it was anger. Usually it wouldn’t have been your first resort. You’d learned to take everything in the media with a grain of salt, especially when it pertains to Lewis. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt, always believed him above everyone else.

This time, as you listen to Lewis give the answer on video, something shifts. Sure the headlines are dramatic, carefully crafted to get clicks, but there’s not much to be misconstrued when he very clearly answers the question. The only ‘marriage’ he’s focused on is his partnership with Ferrari. Hell, you almost wished he’d said nothing at all. Before you can react any further, his keys are jingling in the door as he unlocks it.

“Honey, I’m home!” His footsteps sound through the hallway, and you remain silent in your place on the sofa, pouring yourself a glass of wine. “Y/n?”

“Hi, Lewis.”

His brows furrow at the cold tone that sharpens your response, combined with the way you barely acknowledge him as he takes his coat off. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. How was your day?”

“Long. Sorry we couldn’t meet for lunch today. With joining this team there’s always someone new to meet, you know how it goes.”

“Sounds busy.”

“It was, but in the best way.”

“Right.” You chide sarcastically. “You couldn’t have lunch with me today because you were a little busy telling the world that you have no intentions of marrying me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please Lewis, don’t play clueless with me tonight, I watched the interview. It’s only been covered by every major celebrity news publication today.”

He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly the moment you’re referring to. Honestly, he expected for you to praise how well he shut down the conversation, knowing how sacred privacy is to you. “Come on, sweetheart. You know you can’t take that stuff seriously.”

“They may be making a mockery out of it but you were quoted, Lewis. I heard it, I read it, I saw it… there’s no way you can downplay this right now.”

Lewis moves to your spot on the couch, sitting down beside you and placing a hand on your thigh. “We’ve always agreed to keep our life away from the vultures, haven’t we? I didn’t think it would be fair to share something with the world that we’ve barely discussed ourselves.”

“That’s only because you never let us talk about it, Lewis. You act like the ‘future’ is something so distant and far away that you don’t even have to think about it yet. Every time you get a question like that, you give the same bullshit answer. Everyone thinks you’re not serious about our future together and honestly, I’m starting to believe it.”

His eyes widen as he registers that you have, in fact, had enough of his non-answers. “Honey, you can’t possibly believe that. They have no idea what our life is like, they’re taking crumbs to make it seem like we’re having problems!”

“And those are crumbs that you fed them!” You remind him, not wavering under any circumstances. Not under his gaze that usually takes your breath away, not under his touch that usually leaves you warm and tingly inside. He can’t keep getting away with this. “I mean, what am I supposed to think when I hear you say something like that?”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound like that! I wanted to keep the conversation focused on my career and the team.”

“Yet at the mention of making me your wife, you answered the question like they asked you what you ate for dinner last night! You were indifferent, Lewis. There was no sparkle in your eyes, no small smile that you try to keep to yourself. I know you well enough to know by now when there isn’t anything there.”

His head hangs low and he tries to take in what you’re saying. “I’m sorry honey, hurting you is the last thing I’d want to do. You know that right?”

“I do.” You nod, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Deep down, you want so badly to believe him with all of your heart. “But I need you to tell me that they’re lying. I need you– no, I need us– to prove them wrong. We’ve come this far, Lewis. I can’t stand the thought of it being for nothing.” Your eyes lock with his, and it’s comforting to notice that you both share the same look of sincerity, the same commitment to never turn your back on the other.

He cups your face in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead, then engulfs you in his arms as he whispers gentle words. “It’s not for nothing, it could never be. I promise, Y/n. I’ll prove them wrong. We’ll prove them wrong.”

His promise sticks with you. Silently, you hope and pray that he’s trying to convince you instead of himself.

–

The nightstand looks much prettier the next morning, decorated with your favorite red roses standing on top of it. Somewhat of a tradition between you and Lewis, as he would buy them sometimes to make up and sometimes ‘just because’. They were always nice to wake up to, especially when your bed would be empty come sunrise.

A note rests underneath the bouquet.

My love,

I’m sorry about last night, I wish we could have woken up together this morning.

Figured I’d let you sleep. Text me when you get this, we’ll make up that lunch from yesterday.

I love you.

Lewis

–

The pitter-patter of raindrops falling outside the cafe window are distracting. Almost enough to keep you silent all through lunch, unable to stop your mind from wandering. Lewis sits opposite you, occasionally brushing his thumb across your knuckles as he holds your hand in his.

Sometimes the quiet moments are the best. You can simply bask in each other’s presence without a word being said between you. It’s unfortunate to realize these moments must always come to an end, even by your own doing.

“Can I ask you a question, Lewis?”

“Anything.”

“When we first started dating… What did you envision for us?”

“This.” Lewis meets your eyes, smiling peacefully. You can’t help but give him a smile back.

“Do you still dream about it?”

Lewis furrows his eyebrows, confused as to where this is coming from, but lingering questions from the previous night haven’t stopped playing in your head. “Honey, of course I do. There’s nobody else I’d rather be on this journey with.”

You nod, still somewhat unconvinced, even though you try to tell yourself differently. Lately, that hasn’t been enough. The pit in your stomach only seems to be growing.

When you don’t respond, Lewis continues. “If I remember correctly, when we first met, you dreamed of becoming a florist and opening your own shop. Do you still dream about that?”

Your eyes snap back to his at the mention of something you’d told him years ago. You’re a little surprised he still remembers, after all this time. “Of course I do. Maybe my dreams changed a little bit when I fell in love with you, though.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I guess you have dreams big enough for the both of us. Doesn’t leave much room for mine.”

Lewis frowns. “How long have you been feeling like that?”

“How long have we been together?” You answer rhetorically with a chuckle, but Lewis doesn’t laugh with you. “It’s not your fault, by any means. I choose to be with you and I embrace everything that comes with loving you. But it’s the truth.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. I always figured we would explore that after I retired, when our life is a little more stable.”

You sigh at his admission, calling his bluff before you can stop yourself. “You’ll never be retired, Lewis.”

He gives you a puzzled look. “As much as I love Formula 1, I won’t be racing forever.”

“Sure, maybe you’ll retire from racing. But you’ll fill your calendar with a million other things. Film projects, fashion partnerships, Almave, jumping out of planes in between… There will always be something else.”

He smiles softly in reflection and it makes your stomach turn. Whether he acknowledges it or not, Lewis knows you’re telling the truth. “Maybe. But there’s always room for you in that plan, and for your plans too. It’s not just you and me, it’s our life together. We’ll make room for it all, won’t we?”

You chuckle at his relentlessness. “You’ve got to be the most insatiable man in the world, Lewis. You’re never satisfied. And for some strange reason, I love that about you. I can’t help it.”

Lewis grins, leaning over to kiss you across the table. “Good. Promise you’ll never stop?”

“I promise.” Your forehead rests against his for a moment, needing to hear him vow the same to you. “Will you do the same for me?”

“Always.”

–

“So love, I’ve been thinking…” Lewis starts, getting dressed for the day on one side of the closet while you get ready on the other. “We should walk the carpet together at the MET this year.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I am a co-chair after all, so it’ll be extra special. What do you say?”

“Sure, but isn’t it a little early to be thinking about that? The first Monday in May is still months away, honey.”

“It is.” Lewis agrees, making his way over to you as he wraps his arms around your frame from behind, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “But it would mean a lot to me if it was us up there together.” He presses a kiss to the back of your neck to emphasize his point, before he helps you clasp your necklace together.

“Well, forgive me for being the slightest bit surprised. A lot of people will be talking about it, you know.”

“Exactly. And we’ll be there to show them a united front.”

You freeze in his hold, connecting the dots out of pure skepticism. His choice of words doesn’t exactly help your worries. “United front?”

“Yeah, we’ll show the world that our relationship is not ‘on the rocks’ or whatever those bullshit articles were saying.”

You take a step away from him, turning around so you are standing face to face. “Is that why you’re asking me? To squash the media’s narrative about the strength of our relationship?”

“Y/n.” Lewis sighs. “I don’t want to do this again. I just want us to live our lives, everyone else can go fuck themselves as far as I’m concerned.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you asking me to go with you for appearances; Yes or no?” He pauses, attempting to say something, anything to put your mind at ease, but the words fail to come out. “Don’t lie to me, Lewis.”

“It’s not the only reason!” He defends. “Maybe I want to stick it to the media because they have no idea what they’re talking about. They shouldn’t get to make these stupid claims about my life while I just take it on the chin! I’ve had enough of that.”

“And I agree, but you can’t just use me as a pawn to make a point or whatever you’re trying to do! I’m not your accessory, I’m supposed to be your partner.”

“And you are my partner in this, forever. I just want everyone to be reminded of that.” Lewis explains, placing his hands on your hips to keep you from retreating away.

“So do I. But you’re so caught up in blaming other people that you can’t even acknowledge that these rumors only started because you fed them the story!”

Lewis retracts his hands, growing defensive. “Oh, so this is my fault? Well, excuse me for trying to fix it!” Your movements are quick as you lace your sneakers and throw on a jacket, leaving the bedroom with haste. “Where are you going?” Lewis questions, defeated.

“For a walk. Don’t follow me.” And with that, you were out the door before he has a chance to protest.

–

The London weather is typical, cloudy skies with the fresh smell of rain filling the atmosphere. It couldn’t better reflect the way you’re feeling about your relationship with Lewis, the uncertainty consuming your thoughts more often than not lately. It’s the first time in your life that you’ve wondered if you and Lewis would make it or not. It’s the first time you’ve wondered what life without him would look like. It’s scary, but not impossible.

Autopilot has consumed you for so long, that taking control of your life attracts you now more than ever. The beautiful greenery in Hyde Park reminds you of it. If only the rose garden were in full bloom. Still, it’s amazing to see how some of the bushes have survived through the first frost. It’s oddly inspiring to look at what appears to be so delicate, remain standing through rough conditions. You can’t help but imagine if things would be the same for you, too. Maybe there’s a reason why this has always been your favorite trail to walk.

About 40 minutes pass before he finds you, having left the house 10 minutes after you did. He even stopped to get a bouquet of roses on the way, knowing they always find a way to cheer you up. Lewis figures you need some time to clear your head, and he understands that feeling better than anyone. He’s more than happy to give that to you, but needs to know you’re safe above anything else.

You’re standing in front of an empty building when he spots you. It’s old and rustic, but not quite to the point of collecting dust. It has charm, you can tell just by looking at it. Even though there’s nothing here anymore but a ‘For Sale’ sign hanging in the window, a phone number listed below it, you can’t stop gazing through the glass.

“Honey?”

The familiar sound of Lewis’ voice startles you, breaking your trance. “What are you doing here?” You’re surprised more than anything, but you really shouldn’t be. It would be unlike Lewis to leave you alone for too long after an argument.

“I come bearing roses.” He laments, handing you the bouquet, albeit smaller than what he usually gets. Those ones are large enough to fill a room, but he can only carry so many at once.

“And I also come bearing an apology. We’ve been having the same fight lately and I’ve been so frustrated in trying to stop it. The only opinion in this world I care about is yours, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did in the interview. Me not wanting to marry you? That couldn’t be further from the truth. Everyday I wake up the luckiest man on Earth because I’m laying beside you.”

“They’re lovely, Lewis. Thank you.” You smell the roses, instinctively feeling that familiar calm take over as you do. “The apology isn’t so bad either.”

He chuckles, letting himself relax. By the looks of it, the fresh air and a little space did you both some good. “This has been a struggle for me, too. I should be talking to you about these things instead of trying to control them on my own. I just want to protect you from everything I can.”

“I know. You always try your best to do that.” You offer, hoping to assuage some of the guilt he’s feeling.

“It’s just… My life has been Formula 1 for so long that I guess I never imagined a time where Lewis Hamilton spends his day at the office and comes home to the wife. I’m not wired that way.”

“I know you’re not. I’ve always known that, it would be unfair of me to try and change you now. Not that I would want to, anyway.”

Lewis’ heart warms at your understanding nature. It’s both exciting and scary how well you know him, and love him through all of it. “What’s unfair of me, is to pretend that what you’ve imagined for us isn’t important, or that it doesn’t exist at all. I’ve been narrow minded and I’m sorry about that.”

His apology fills you with the hope that you’ve been needing, in order to move past this once and for all. “You’ve always been stubborn, I’ve gotten used to it.”

Lewis smiles. “You love all of the things I wish I could change about myself. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“You don’t have to. Kiss me, instead?”

Lewis grants your wish and places his lips on yours. You’re careful not to drop the beautiful bouquet of flowers into the puddle on the ground below you. Your free hand cups the side of his face and you smile against his lips, finally feeling some peace as you open yourselves up to each other. It’s been a long time coming.

When you pull back, he holds your body close to his, wishing to never let go. It’s something he should do more often. “So, what brought you over here?”

“Oh, I was just walking through the park when I noticed this building, I couldn’t help but stop and stare. It’s cute, right?”

“Very.” He agrees, picking up the way you glance between your roses and the empty building space. “You see yourself here, don’t you?”

“A little bit.” You admit reluctantly, never letting your hopes get too high. Not yet, anyway. “But it would never happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

You give him a confused look, remembering that he knows exactly the reason why it won’t happen. “Me, starting a business right now? It’s a little far-fetched, isn’t it?”

Lewis’ expression is one of indecision. “Maybe you wouldn’t open tomorrow, but I’d say it’s worth looking into.”

“Of course you would say that, you’ve had the entrepreneur title for a while now.” You tease lightheartedly, and he laughs.

“I’m not saying for me, silly. It’s your dream and I want to support you, no matter how long it takes.”

“If I decided to pursue it now, I don’t know what that would mean for us.”

Lewis sighs, taking your free hand in his. “Me neither.”

You might use that to distract from the truth, but it goes without saying that you both know exactly what it means. The goodbye would be tough; it’s not one either of you are ready to say yet. Neither of you can even acknowledge that it would take saying goodbye for your dream to step out of your imagination to come to fruition. For now, denial feels like the better of the two options.

“We should get home, I want to take care of these roses, not all of them can stand the cold.”

“They’re strong enough, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

You nod along, remembering your thoughts from earlier. These roses are a lot stronger than one might think, their fragile appearance would throw anyone off. “You’re right, I’m sure they will be, too.”

Lewis offers his arm so yours can link with his. If all it took was this walk to be able to talk with him openly again, you would’ve gone on it weeks ago.

Maybe your newfound serenity can be attributed to reconciling with Lewis, or the phone number for the building space that’s folded up in your back pocket.

–

“Hyde Park Realty Group, this is Sandra.”

“Hi, Sandra, this is Y/n Y/l/n. I’m calling about a property I came across the other day, a commercial space.” You inform her, listing off the address.

“Oh, Y/n! You’re in luck because it just went on the market this week! It’s in great condition despite what the pictures may show.” Sandra advises cheerfully, until her tone drops ever so slightly. “It’s so nice that we’ve actually received an inquiry already.”

“Oh wow, I guess I’m not really surprised. It’s a great little place. Did I mention that I’d be willing to pay above the asking price?”

“I will be sure to keep that in mind! Anything for my favorite client.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm on the other end of the line. “Well, since you mention that… Is there any way you can give me a name? Find out who’s interested in the place?”

“The listing agent happens to be a friend of mine, so I’m sure I can figure it out. Can I give you a call back when I do?”

“Absolutely, I’d appreciate that very much. Thank you, Sandra!”

“Always a pleasure.” She returns your pleasantries, ending the call immediately after.

–

Lewis sits in his office, unable to remain focused when he’s waiting for his phone to light up with a phone call. A few minutes turns into a half an hour, and it’s almost as if he’s manipulated the call into existence when his phone finally rings. He wastes no time in answering.

“So, I have good news and I have bad news.” Mark, his real estate agent, starts over the phone.

“What’s the bad news?” Lewis queries.

Mark pauses. “Someone has their eye on the property near Hyde Park, so we might be looking at a bidding war.”

“And the good news?”

“The good news is there’s no need for a bidding war, because the person interested happens to be your girlfriend, Y/n.”

Lewis' eyes widen and he can feel his heart beating out of his chest in anticipation. “What?! How is that supposed to be good news?”

“It’s simple, one of you buys the building and the other sleeps on the couch.” Mark jests.

“Yeah, very funny. The whole point of this is that it’s supposed to be a surprise. I don’t want her to know I’m buying the property. She doesn’t know that I’m putting an offer on it right?”

Mark hesitates on the other end. “Her realtor and I owed each other a favor… So I can’t promise that Sandra won’t let the cat out of the bag.”

“Isn’t there some kind of realtor-client confidentiality? What happened to that non-disclosure clause in the contract we signed?” Lewis admonishes, wanting to be furious when in reality, he’s a little thankful to get the heads up on this.

“Look, this information is just as useful to you as it would be to her. We’ll make a cash offer and I’m sure the seller will accept instantly. Just make sure Y/n doesn’t get to them first. You’re a fast man, aren’t you? I’m sure you can make that happen.”

Lewis sighs. “I can try. Thanks for the call.”

“No problem, I’ll take care of everything.” Mark assures, hanging up the phone.

Lewis lets his head fall into his hands. This certainly isn’t how he planned for things to go. The more you kept quiet, the more he did too, desperate to maintain control of the situation before it’s too late. He wants nothing more than to give you this gift, convinced that this is the one thing he can do to make it up to you after everything.

Lewis’ mind wanders, as it often does when he has a rare moment alone. He wonders why, after you two made up in Hyde Park, would you be inquiring about the building so soon? Were you planning to lease it until you both can spend more time in London? Surely you can’t start a business and still travel with him to races.

On the other hand, if there’s anyone that can do it, it’s you. But he knows you, and he knows that you don’t do anything halfass. Especially not something like this.

Maybe that’s partly why he’s still drawn to you so intensely after so long. You’re two peas in a pod in that regard; burning with an unyielding desire to tune out the world while you pursue your dreams.

An uneasy feeling settles inside of him, knowing that you’re getting restless. Lewis doesn’t know if you’d ever be sick of travelling with him, putting your dreams on hold while he continues chasing his. If the tables were turned, he knows how he would feel.

He doesn’t want to hold you back anymore, but it will be a cold day in hell before he sets you free. At the end of the day, he loves you. If Lewis can’t decide on his own, the velvet ring box in his desk drawer will do it for him.

–

Not even a day goes by before Lewis is asking you out to dinner again. A part of you wonders if he’s truly trying to make up for lost time, or if he knows that you’ll have one foot out the door if he doesn’t. Ever since Sandra called you back, this time with a name, you didn’t know what to make of Lewis’ behavior. All you did know was that you wouldn’t be playing any games with him. Not about this.

When you’d asked him what the occasion was, he played it off, giving you something sly like ‘Since when do I need an occasion to treat my girl?’. Corny, you’d admit. But there was something about it that made it feel like the beginning of your relationship again. Those butterflies came back out to play. You decided to make the most of it, hoping that this time, they’ll last.

“Wow, Lewis. This is a lot, even for you.” Your eyes scan the private balcony, decorated with red roses all around. The weather is chilly, but not cold enough to stop you from enjoying an evening under the stars, secluded from the world.

“It’s nothing for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to you or do for you, honey. Never forget that.” He charms, squeezing your waist gently.

You kiss him softly, hoping to relieve some of his nerves. Your thumb glides across his lips, wiping away a faint smudge of your red lipstick. “I know, and I love you very much for it. You have this way of making me feel like we’re the only two on Earth, and I could never get sick of it.”

“It does feel like that, doesn’t it?” Lewis muses, taking your hands in his as he smiles to himself. He bites his lip, feeling that he has so much more to say. “Somedays I wish that were true, we’d be spending a lot more time together.”

“Yeah but before me, you had a dream way bigger than us. And you’ve achieved that dream not only once, but seven– technically eight– and now almost nine times.” You beam with pride, knowing how much Lewis has dedicated himself to his career, and managed to rise up again after a tough few years.

Instead, Lewis gulps at your comment that your dreams individually might be bigger than the ones you have together. He wonders if that’s how you feel about your precious flower shop, too. It’s certainly not the best of moments for his mind to go there, not when this ring box is practically burning a hole through his pocket.

“Since I met you, I’d say this dream has grown on me quite a bit, too. Spending my life with you, having a family one day. Those have become my dreams too now.”

“And they’ve become mine.” You smile, squeezing his hands reassuringly. “Gosh, you don’t know how badly I’ve dreamed of that. But I understand why you’re hesitant to rush into it.”

“Yeah, about that.” Lewis wavers, clearing his throat to regain some steadiness to his voice. “What if I was done hesitating? I think I’ve done enough of that, haven’t I?”

You shake your head at his insinuation. “I’m not going to pressure you into marrying me, Lewis. That can only come from your heart.”

“It does come from my heart.” He reassures you. “I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time now, I just… I’ve been waiting for the right moment to come around. But you know what? I’ve waited long enough.” Lewis retracts one of his hands from yours, reaching into the pocket of his wool coat.

To you, it happens in slow motion. You can barely register what you’re seeing as he lowers down onto one knee, opening the small velvet box for you to see, a beautiful diamond ring cushioned inside.

“Y/n, my love, will you marry me?”

You freeze.

Through all the times you’ve pictured this moment, none of them were like this. You never imagined that your answer could be anything but a resounding yes being shouted from the rooftops. You definitely didn’t imagine this would happen after the series of arguments you’d been having lately.

You remember that building in Hyde Park, how Sandra told you that it was someone close to you who was interested in buying it. Lewis does happen to be the most calculated man you know, and always uses it to his advantage, in business and on track. Not even in your worst nightmares have you imagined that he would ever use it against you.

But looking into his eyes as they search yours for some kind of answer, you realize this isn’t a nightmare. This isn’t some fantasy that’s too good to be true. Being Lewis’ wife, having him as your husband… that’s been written in your dreams for some time now.

“If you’re not ready, I understand. I’ll wait, I’ll give you however much time you need to think-”

“Yes.” You breathe out, so quiet that he needs to hear it again to be sure.

“What?”

“Yes, Lewis. I’ll marry you.”

The man has never gotten on both feet so fast, as he literally sweeps you off of yours, holding your body close to his. Heat radiates off his body as he embraces you tightly, but maybe that has less to do with his designer coat and more to do with the nerves that have been consuming him since you arrived.

Lewis pulls back, but only to kiss you with every ounce of passion he carries around, and has carried around with him from the very day you met. He slides the diamond ring onto your finger and you both admire the way it shines under the stars.

“I’ll love you forever, Y/n.”

“I’ll love you forever too, Lewis Hamilton.”

–

“Just keep them closed!” Lewis pleads, carefully guiding you beside him as you walk through Hyde Park together.

Sandra had been unusually quiet lately, and in all honesty, your heart was beating out of your chest to get a glimpse of that building that’s grown on you so much. You see it all the time. In your daydreams, imagining yourself fixing it up, one day making your own arrangements and selling flowers.

“We’re here!” Lewis exclaims, telling you to open your eyes. Sure enough, standing in front of the address you’ve become quite acquainted with over the last few weeks.

“What are we doing here? What is the surprise?” You take a look around, heart throbbing as you notice the ‘For Sale’ sign has been removed from the window. One look at Lewis’ smirk, and your stomach drops. “No, Lewis. Tell me you didn’t.”

“Surprise, baby.” He kisses your cheek excitedly, handing you a shiny golden key to unlock the front door. “Go ahead, it’s yours.”

“I was gonna buy this place.”

“I know! And I talked to Sandra, and convinced her to keep it a secret so I could surprise you. Please don’t hold it against her, okay?”

“So if you knew I wanted to buy it, why didn’t you let me?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you blow your savings on this place just as we’re about to get married. It didn’t make sense to me.” Lewis explains, eyes scanning yours to figure out why you’re not leaping into his arms joyously, like he thought you would. “Come on, you’re not mad at me are you?”

“No, I’m not mad.” You reassure, a smile growing on your face as you examine the building all over again. Your building. “I really don’t know what to say, Lewis. I guess thank you would be the best place to start.”

“You deserve this. You deserve everything, and I intend on giving it to you.”

Lewis smiles against your lips as you kiss him, losing the words you wish to say. “I guess you’re right. Whether it was you or me to buy the space, it doesn’t really matter. I just thought it could’ve been a fun process, buying it on my own. I’ve never had something all to myself like this.”

“I don’t want you to worry, okay? It’s in your name anyway. Now, shall we go in?”

You take the hand he holds out for you. It’s reassuring to have Lewis as your partner in all of this; there’s no greater gift. There’s not a single house or building that could top that, not even a hundred red roses to wake up to in the morning.

–

‘Can’t wait to celebrate you tonight xx’

You re-read Lewis’ text from hours ago, to make sure it was still there. You’re not going crazy, right? He said he’d be here, at the opening party for your flower shop.

To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. Everything had been going so well. Remodeling and decorating the place to fit your taste, something that your customers would love too. Lewis was always sure to offer his advice when you asked for it.

Now, as the party full of your family and friends is in full swing, you can’t help but wish you hadn’t asked him for anything at all. Hours had gone by before people stopped asking where he was, you ignored their obvious, hushed whispers.

Some of your friends even suggested texting him again to make sure he’s not busy dealing with some kind of emergency. You brushed them off, knowing that any of those excuses would be far from the truth.

Maybe he didn’t intend on missing your big night, but did it really matter? He’s not here to see the bright bunches of florals elevating the space from what it once was; hollow rooms and cream walls so plain that they were begging for someone to bring them to life.

The arms of the clock keep inching forward, yet the front door to your shop never moves. You have to look away every time you subconsciously glance at it, your eyes daring to water as each person that congratulates you, isn’t the man you’re waiting for.

For now, you have to pretend it doesn’t bother you, when nothing has ever infuriated and saddened you so much at once. You have to lie to your friends when they offer to stick around after the party’s over, instead telling them that you just need a minute to let it all sink in.

They assume you mean embracing your accomplishment in becoming a business owner, a dream you’ve sought to fulfill for as long as you can remember. Your parents brought it up when they congratulated you in a toast, reminiscing on how their daughter stopped to smell every flower she came across growing up. They spoke about how proud they were to see how far you’ve come. What a shame it was that your fiancé wasn’t standing beside you when they did.

Tonight is about growth, but never in the way you expected. You’re left here to mourn the loss of something you never really had to begin with. Lewis; but more specifically, his undivided love and attention. The diamond ring pulls at your left hand, weighing it down more than usual. You fight the urge to take it off altogether. Even if you did, would it really matter? Given that the man who put it there isn’t here to witness it.

Until the bell on the front door chimes. The sound is more chilling than anything, in the midst of the quiet that’s fallen over your shop. Only soft jazz music plays throughout, you haven’t bothered to turn it off after the party ended.

You swallow the lump in your throat, and you don’t look up from your drink before speaking. But you can feel his eyes on you. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that, honey. I’m the idiot.” He protests, heart dropping in panic as he realizes that it’s just you and your flowers in here, he missed the whole thing. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“No, Lewis. You may be hyper focused on your career but it’s taken the both of us to get to this point. I’ve only been enabling it. Forgiving you even when I don’t really mean it. I haven’t been honest enough.”

“Please, stop blaming yourself. I fucked up, okay? I lost track of time at a business dinner, but there’s no way I should’ve missed this. I can’t believe my assistant didn’t pull me out early, at the very least.” Lewis rants, though he knows the fault doesn’t belong elsewhere.

“Don’t you dare do that to me. Again.” You finally look in his direction, this time you can’t stop the tears from flowing. “You don’t get to blame your assistant, or your team, or anyone else! We can talk semantics, and if we do we’ll be here all night. Let’s face it, if tonight was really important to you, you would’ve been here!”

“And I’ll never forgive myself for missing it. Please, honey, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Lewis! And I hope you don’t forgive yourself, you don’t deserve to! I mean I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that you just don’t care enough, or that all of this is just one big fucking game to you because you can’t stand the thought of me living a life without you. You tell the world you’re not thinking about marrying me, and it’s not until I want to do something on my own that you propose within fucking weeks. Not to mention snatching up this property before I could.”

He stands there, silently, which only fires you up more. Truthfully, you don’t need the press, you don’t need Sandra, you don’t need anybody to tell you about the man you’ve known, the man you’ve loved for several years now. And it guts you, but that feeling comes straight from your intuition. It rips your heart in two to see all of it go down the drain.

Nevertheless, when one door closes, another one opens.

“Now that I think about it…” You trail off, the weight on your ring finger now growing unpleasant. “I think it’s time you got this back.”

Lewis’ eyes widen as he watches you tug at the jewelry and rip it off with haste. He strides to you in a few quick steps, yet the distance between you has never felt greater. “Y/n, please. You have every right in the world to be upset with me but we can work through this, we always do!”

You scoff, offended by the way he’s diminishing you. “Of course you think we could just move on! Because to you, this is just a fucking launch party. You’ve had plenty of those. But Lewis, this was my one. My one night that I wanted to share with you, and you couldn’t do it! You couldn’t be there when I needed you to. I wasn’t asking for one whole day or one whole week of your time. Hell, I wasn’t the one who asked for the rest of your life! All I wanted was an hour or two. And you couldn’t do that.”

“I love you.” Lewis utters, his voice shaking. The words aren't as promising as they used to be. Instead, he’s begging you to remember what he hasn’t yet convinced you of. Maybe you haven’t felt loved by Lewis in quite a while, grand gestures aside. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“You know, I used to believe you when you said that. The twisted thing is, a part of me still does. A part of me really wants to.” You cry, wishing nothing more than for this nightmare to come to an end. If you don’t say something now, it won’t. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. Like you said, we’ve been waiting long enough right? Maybe we should’ve had this conversation a long time ago. We were never going to make things work.”

“Please don’t do this, I’ll do anything to make it better.” Lewis breathes out, a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks.

There was a time when you’d wipe them away, no matter if the two of you were fighting or not. It’s a rude awakening to not feel that urge anymore. No urge to lean forward, to run into his arms. No urge to step backward or run for the door. You just stand there and face him.

“Lewis, when you said you’d love me forever… did you mean it?”

“Yes!” Lewis rushes, cradling your face in his hands, needing you to see it in his eyes that not an ounce of him feels differently. “I absolutely meant it, from the bottom of my heart. I still mean it, I will love you forever, Y/n. As long as I live and then some.”

“Then do me this favor? Just this one…” Lewis shakes his head in denial— in refusal— as you grasp at his wrists, disconnecting his hands from your face. They trail down your frame, as a way to hold onto you. To remind himself that you haven’t disappeared yet. And you let him, committing his touch to your memory for a final time.

He takes a deep breath. “Anything.”

“Just let me go, Lewis. Don’t put up a fight. Don’t put me through any more of this hope and disappointment. Please? I don’t think I can stand to resent you more than I already do.”

His jaw clenches, you’re unsure of what he’s holding back. It might be the first time that you don’t want to know. It’s the first time that Lewis’ closed off nature hasn’t sent you spiraling, desperate to find some kind of sign to cling onto. The silence for once, is quite refreshing, despite his repressed cries that sound through the air. Yours, too.

He presses his lips to your forehead, and your cheeks feel wet with tears as they flow. The gesture strikes through your heart, and the weight of it becomes heavier. “I’m sorry I failed you. I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. Please remember that.”

Lewis walks out of the shop, your shop, but not without taking one last look at you in it. A part of him wants to weep with pride and joy, knowing you’ll be just fine here. After tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that, this burden will become easier to carry.

How ironic, for it’s the exact reason that this tears him up inside. When the sun comes up in the morning, this won’t be a nightmare he wakes up from. The bed will be empty, and everything will come rushing back to him like a riptide when he feels for you and you’re not there.

That pattern will repeat itself day in and day out, only with the outside noise growing louder. Pictures from your grand opening will be published and the comments will flood with questions about his absence. Those same gossip rags spreading speculation about you two breaking up some time ago, will resurface with something new to talk about.

Little by little, pictures of the two of you, and your life together, will disappear from your feed. He won’t know what to make of it, seeing the pure joy on your face while you interact with your customers, living the life you were made for.

Guilt will consume him as he wonders if that unbridled happiness is what he was keeping you from all along? You just might come to regret the relationship entirely, if you knew then what you know now. You’re closing one chapter as you begin another one, and you’re writing it on your own this time. He has no choice but to carry on with writing his too.

As time passes, Lewis knows that you’re somewhere out there thinking of him, just as he’s thinking of you. When he wakes up he rubs the sleep from his eyes, wondering how long he’s been living like this. Where his days blur together and all he can think about is where he went wrong.

Lewis notices a decadent arrangement sitting on his marble countertops after he drags himself out of bed. Those bright red roses are unmistakably and undeniably, your own. The sight alone brings a fresh wave of tears to his eyes, and a few drip onto the note sitting beside the arrangement. He reads it again and again until his vision clouds over completely.

–

I think it’s your turn to have these.

I wish you roses, Lewis. Take care of yourself.

Y/n

💌: reblogs & comments are always appreciated! thank you for reading :)

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[wolfyychan]

So here’s the thing: Percy is my guy. I’ll defend him till the day I die. I adore everything about him, and you guys know that. So this post might shock you because I’m about to call the fuck out of him.

I am so SICK of receiving ask after ask after comment after ask about Annabeth being the only goddamn issue in their relationship, meanwhile Percy gets made out to be some saint. You want to call out Percabeth? You want to be all heroic and talk about bad behavior? Allow me to join you! Let’s fucking talk about it!

The number one thing people complain about in their relationship: Annabeth making jokes about his intelligence. But let’s actually talk about this: we all know Percy is extremely intelligent, but why are we so hellbent on denying it when he DOES act like an idiot most of the time? Like, why is Percy saying things like he can’t tie his shoes or phrasing stuff to Annabeth like an 8-year-old when he’s nearly a grown adult? And now tell me this. Why is it always on ANNABETH to translate and explain everything when we know Percy can figure stuff out for himself? Why is it always on ANNABETH to make the plan? Why is it always on ANNABETH to figure out how to fix things that Percy and Grover usually messed up? 

After Wrath of the Triple Goddess, I spent so much time being angry at how Rick wrote Annabeth bossing Percy around. But then I took a step back and realized: it’s because he also writes Percy as always being so heavily reliant on Annabeth when she’s there. Instead of asking, “Why is Annabeth acting like his mom?” why isn’t anyone ever fucking asking, “Why does Annabeth feel like she HAS to act like his mom?” Because she doesn’t act that way with people like Thalia, Jason, or Reyna. So why is her boyfriend putting her in a position where she feels like she has to explain everything to him and tell him what to do?

You know, in The Demigod Diaries, Annabeth says she’s always known Percy isn’t dumb and that he’s actually very intelligent—but that he just ACTS super dumb. Then she says she thinks Percy does it just to annoy her. Annabeth has called Percy smart on several occasions—including one of my favorite moments in MoA where she calls him brilliant and kisses him—and yet she still makes those comments about his intelligence. So considering all that, let's think about it. Have you ever met someone who’s super smart but acts so dumb that they actually convince themselves they’re dumb? It’s infuriating. So imagine how that must feel to a daughter of Athena. And don’t you dare go, “Well, it’s because of Percy’s childhood and his abuse…” because Annabeth is ALSO fucked up from her childhood and suffered from abuse, but that doesn’t ever excuse HER, I guess. So why does Percy get a pass? 

Oh right, I forgot: because we must always blame the woman for “nagging” and “being controlling.” Silly me for forgetting.

It’s ALWAYS “God Annabeth is so controlling all the time” and NEVER “how come Percy puts Annabeth in a position where she always HAS to take charge and keep things under control?” How come he low-key DOES act dumb and useless (and then complains about it) when they both know damn well he can be smart and resourceful when he wants to? Let me guess. “He’s insecure 😔😔.” YEAH, NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. So being insecure makes it all okay? Because Annabeth NEVER gets that benefit of the doubt. Or let me guess, “It’s Rick’s fault for writing him that way” okay cool, well then it’s ALSO Rick’s fault for writing Annabeth the way she is. You don’t get to pick and choose.

(Quick pause—does anyone else feel like Rick finally started writing Percy as a confident, secure, and assertive person in Heroes of Olympus—and found it so refreshing—only for Percy to regress back into his self-hating, insecure 12-year-old self again in the new books? Because it’s infuriating to me that he lost that character development. Anyway… resuming discussion.)

People are always so worried about Percy feeling inferior in their relationship, but never about Annabeth feeling frustrated when Percy doesn't act like the equally contributing partner that she knows he can be (and that he is a lot of the time). I mean, we know from her POV in MoA that Annabeth tends to feel like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and has to figure things out for everyone else. And that she feels useless sometimes because everyone else, especially Percy, has all these amazing powers, and all Annabeth has to contribute is her knowledge. And yet, when she "shows off" with her intelligence, it's a "superiority complex?"

And another hot topic: Anti-Percabethers are always talking about Annabeth “bullying” and “physically abusing” Percy. (Despite him never feeling pain, flinching, or even expressing an ounce of discontent—in fact after she judo-flipped him, he laughed and smiled). And yet they never seem to want to talk about the fact that Percy has made Annabeth cry and been extremely insensitive to her on several occasions. And you wanna talk about physical violence? Let’s talk about how Sally, Paul, and Annabeth were all extremely nervous and tense when telling Percy that Sally was pregnant. You know why? It’s explained that they’re scared because his temper is brutal and they never know how he’s going to react—because he previously blew out the pipes of the entire apartment building when he got upset about something. How come everybody is SO worried about Annabeth playfully smacking his shoulder and him not caring, but NOBODY wants to talk about the fact that Annabeth is scared of making Percy mad because he can’t fucking control his temper or keep the world around him from blowing up? This is the guy who’s been kicked out of military schools for fighting. This is the guy who’s thrown his skateboard into a wall out of rage. This is the guy who got so mad at a goddess that he got pleasure out of torturing her. I’m not saying he’s wrong for any of that, but I am saying that Annabeth has never once done something like that.

Let’s talk about Piper’s perspective of him. I used to hate Piper because she was critical of Percy, but then I grew up. She is one of the few people who actually gives us an unbiased view of him, and you know what she says? She says she doesn’t know how Annabeth deals with Percy because Annabeth is constantly having to keep him under control. Annabeth keeps him from attacking/yelling at Leo after the canon incident. She has to diffuse his stupid, pointless “who’s is bigger” competition with Jason. She’s not there to keep him from pissing off Bacchus, and Percy rapidly escalates the situation and nearly screws them all over. I mean, in Wrath of the Triple Goddess, she had to tactfully handle him after Grover drank the strawberry potion because Percy was so angry that he was literally shaking (and btw Annabeth had to figure out the plan to fix everything that time, too). When she’s not there, Percy talks back to gods and superiors and gets everyone around him into bad situations with his temper and disobedience. Annabeth CONSTANTLY has to calm him down and keep him from losing his shit. Do you know how exhausting that must be??

So tell me—why is the blame ALWAYS on the woman here? Why is Percy made out to be some poor, abused wittle baby being picked on by big bad Annabeth? He’s a big boy. A grown man now, even. He is the most powerful demigod alive. He can fucking take care of himself, and so can Annabeth.

If you don’t want to like Percabeth? That’s fine. If you don’t want to like Annabeth? That’s fine. But STOP making it out as if Annabeth is the only one who causes problems in their relationship and Percy is completely innocent. Percy is just as bad—arguably worse, actually. Because despite everyone saying how bad Annabeth is to Percy, he never actually gets hurt, scared, or offended by her. Meanwhile, Annabeth HAS cried because of Percy’s words AND has been scared of him and his temper. So… what the FUCK?? How is Annabeth the one being villainized here??

Now, I can actively defend every single thing Percy has done. I love him for his flaws and they make him such a complex character. And I can do and say the same thing about Annabeth, but for some reason that’s “excusing bad behavior.” I love them both and think they are extraordinary people who’ve been dealt really crappy hands. They deal with things the best way that they can in the moment. But they BOTH mess up and hurt each other, and they BOTH have things to work on. They are very flawed characters, and we can point out and discuss those flaws while also being fond of those flaws because it makes them more realistic. 

Now, some of you might be thinking, “Lili, I thought you loved Percy and Percabeth.” I do. I love them so much that I pretty much have a whole blog dedicated to them. But I don’t love them because I think they’re perfect. I love them because, despite being extremely flawed, they make each other better. They love each other unconditionally. They build each other up and protect each other in the darkest of times.

They are best friends. They are battle partners. They are lovers. They are warriors. They are heroes. They are EQUALS. But they are NOT perfect. Not even a little. And their ability to overcome and work through those imperfections together is what makes them so extraordinary.

And yet, when Percy plays dumb, it’s blamed on Rick’s bad writing and excused as him being insecure because of his abuse. When Annabeth calls him out for it and jokes about it, she gets called an awful person who doesn’t value him. And when Percy loses his temper and acts out and gets everyone into bad situations, he’s excused because he inherited Poseidon’s temper and he can’t help it. But when Annabeth is extremely prideful and acts like she’s smarter than other people (which she inherited from Athena) she’s a selfish bitch who thinks she’s better than anyone else? 

How does that make any fucking sense? 

If you want to criticize Percabeth, criticize both of them. But don’t keep doing this “selective reading” bullshit so you can see Annabeth as the villain when she spends half her life cleaning up Percy’s messes and taking care of him. Percy is extraordinary and I adore him, but he is not a “saint” for “dealing with Annabeth.” He is damn lucky to have her, just like she's damn lucky to have him. 

Either be honest about both their flaws and cut it out with the double standards, or don’t bother pretending you care about the truth at all.

[wolfyychan]

[wolfyychan]

James Potter x shy!fem!reader

Summary: While previously being close friends, after your fourth year you distance yourself from James and he doesn't understand why.

Genre: Fluff with hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: slut shaming, reader has a sexual rumor spread about her, protective!James, gross teenage boys, attempted sexual harassment (non-consentual touching), reader is justifyingly emotional

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James likes you. He's always liked you. You are kind, albeit a bit shy, but James doesn't mind. He'd spent all of first year simply watching you. He didn't mean for it to be creepy and he did his best to go unnoticed as he watched you feed the animals near the Forbidden Forest. Or when he paid attention to where you liked to sit in the library and what books you read. 

When second year came around, he joined Quidditch half in hopes to see you in the stand. You never came. 

In third year, his confidence grew and he started actually talking to you. You were quiet but you didn't seem to mind whenever he'd walk you back to the dorms, or when he helped you study for your Potions exams. You'd smile at him so pretty James was positive he left every conversation with the deepest blush.

By fourth year, you changed and you didn't seem to like the compliments he'd give you anymore and James couldn't understand why. "If you think a girl is pretty, you should tell her, Jamsie." James took his mother's words very seriously, but the more he complimented you—the more distant you became. 

By the end of fourth year, Sirius and Remus warned him he should just leave you alone, but James was stubborn. and hecouldn't understand why you didn't like the compliments. 

He really meant them after all.

"I don't understand," he groans one evening, laying on his bed, his legs thrown against the wall, his hair falling over the edge of the bed, as he plays with the maroon curtains of his dorm room canopy bed. Sirius and Remus are standing over him, looking unamused. 

"Just leave the poor girl alone," Remus says.

"It's been almost three years now, Prongs," Sirius leans down, his black hair falling over his cheeks as he looks into James's pitiful eyes. "You should just move on. I heard from Alice that Lily Evans has her eye on you now."

"Who?" James mutters, barely listening. 

"Y'know, the pretty red-head from our year?"

James shakes his head and sits up, flopping onto his back as he presses his palms into his eyes. "I don't care about anyone but her," he says, "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

"Overwhelming her?" Remus deadpans. 

"Being a stalker?" Sirius adds, resting a hand on his hip as he sends Remus a knowing look and the latter sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

James groans and sits up, his eyes lighting up. "There is the Quidditch finals today, do you think she'll come?" He asks, sounding hopeful. You've never once come to any games. Sirius and Remus shake their heads, knowing the answer is most likely a no and James's expression falls.

* * *

"She came," Peter points to the crowd. He's sitting next to Sirius and Remus as they watch you navigate the stands. Sirius, who had previously been sulking because he couldn't play because of his injury, grins and nods, looking out at the pitch to see if James has noticed you.  

"James is gonna freak," Sirius laughs. 

"She isn't here for him, Pads," Remus nudges Sirius's shoulder and Peter's expression sours. 

"She's with Raven Griffins," the boy says, a disgusted look crossing over his features. "What is she doing with that arsehole?"

Sitting a few students away, you're very uncomfortable. You keep nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You suddenly wish you hadn't come. The only reason you'd said yes to this date was because Griffins was one of the only boys who'd seemed genuinely interested in you. He spoke to you normally, with no ulterior motives and no mocking tone. He was smart and handsome and he seemed genuinely interested. Still, you want to disappear. The game hadn't even started and it was already much too loud. Plus, Griffins had seen some of his friends and now this date didn't feel like a date anymore anyways.

Once the game begins, students stand and cheer and you're jostled to your feet with everyone else. You bite your lip, holding your breath as you focus on the way your nails dig into your palm to ground yourself. You've never liked crowds. 

"Raven?" you whisper, turning to the boy. He shifts his gaze towards you, only grinning as he wraps his arm around you and squeezes your hips. You frown, a shiver running up your spine as his touch feels wrong. 

You shimmy from his grasp and Raven frowns. You can barely hear him over the cheering but as he grabs your arm, fingers digging into your flesh. It seems like he laughs, eyes gleaming with malice as he turns to his friend and says: "Bloody hell, I knew she was easy, but I didn't think she would be this easy. Clearly wants me bad, mate," he laughs. It feels like a bucket of cold water has just been splashed all over you and you tear your arm from him.

You spin around, pushing students to find the quickest exit. Your eyes burn. 

How could you have been so foolish to think this would have gone any differently? 

Tears blur your vision and you run down the stairs to the path around the school. The gravel crackles under your shiny leather shoes. You can't be here anymore. You should have never come. You're in such a rush you don't hear someone call your name until a strong hand grips your wrist and you spin around, almost crashing into the person's chest. You're standing just outside the Quidditch pitch now, the cheers less violent as you focus on the person in front of you.

"James?" 

James is holding his broom in one hand and the other falls from your wrist. He's panting, sweat gathering at his hairline and making his already curly hair even curlier. You can see dirt staining his cheek from what you assume was a harsh landing from his brook and behind the nasty bruise on his cheekbone, his cheeks are tinted crimson and he coughs, leaning forward. 

Did he run here? 

"What happened?" James mutters, clearing his throat as he looks up at you again. "I saw you and Griffins in the crowd and it seemed like he upset you. What did he do?" James spits Griffins name with venom and his usually kind eyes turn dark.

You're shocked, your breaths coming out raspy. Did he follow you here? You back away from him, catching your breath along with him.

"You're missing your game," you whisper. If there is anything you remember from your friendship with James Potter, it's his love of Quidditch. You look at him, realizing it's been almost three years since you'd spoken to him properly.

After what happened, you'd distanced yourself from him. He was just too much at the time—his kind words only made the situation worse. Your heart clenches and you lower your gaze. "Don't miss Quidditch because of me," you add, tears forming on your eyelashes. 

James sees them and he panics. "Did Griffins make you cry?!" He's angry and he drops his broom and rushes up to you. 

You flinch when he cups your cheeks in his hands and you push him away. 

"I'm sorry," James says. His eyes look sad and it breaks you. You cover your mouth, realizing you can't stop the tears anymore. You can't even speak. All you can do is cry into your hand, muffling the sobs as Griffins words repeat in your head;

I knew she was easy, but I didn't think she was this easy.

You choke on a sob and tense when you feel someone's arms hesitantly wrap around you. James hugs you, his chin resting on your head and you break some more. You don't pull away and instead, you wrap your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform. His hand smoothes over your hair and he feels like crying as well. You're hurt. You're hurt so badly you've broken down in front of him and he doesn't understand why. 

"I'm sorry I disappeared," you mutter, all your emotions crashing over you. "You were my f-friend and I- I ignored you."

James frowns, holding you tighter. "Is that what this is about?" he asks softly. "I'm not upset with you. I missed you, yeah. But I'm definitely not mad," he pauses and lifts his head, stroking strands of hair from your face. He looks serious. "Can you tell me what happened? Why are you so sad?"

You look confused and you tilt your head in question. "You don't know?"

James frowns. "Am I supposed to?" 

You don't believe him. James and his friends are some of the most popular boys in your year. In the school even. There is absolutely no way they didn't hear the rumor. Everyone had. That's why you'd avoided James until now. You couldn't face him after what everyone was saying. It was too cruel.

You let out a weary breath. "The rumor—about me? H-how I lost my virginity in fourth year, with some boys from sixth year–? You– you haven't heard it?"

James's blood runs cold. That was you? Of course, he'd heard the rumor but he wasn't one for that type of gossip. He didn't care who the girl was because honestly? He didn't believe the rumor. He didn't even entertain the thought—it had seemed so ludicrous to him. His heart breaks now that he knows it had been you that the rumor surrounded. 

"You stopped being my friend because of a rumor?"

"You don't believe it?"

James laughs. "Believe it? I never did, and now I believe it even less because it's you." James holds your chin, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "Why didn't you come to me? I could have helped you. You didn't have to go through this all alone," he whispers sadly. 

You look at him, feeling overwhelmed all over again. "I- I thought you knew—"

He shakes his head, his expression stern. "Why would you think that?"

You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his gaze now. The words suddenly feel too embarrassing for you to admit out loud. But you can't avoid them now. You're stuck. "Well, you started to compliment me more. You would call me pretty and all that and I- with the rumor going around I assumed y-you just wanted me to sleep with you. It feels so stupid to say now, but you weren't the first boy to see me like that and I didn't know what to think. I just had to distance myself from you and all your sweet words. I'm sorry."

James's heart sinks and he feels sick. "You assumed I was being ingenuine?" He sees the panic behind your eyes and he feels bad. He doesn't mean to interrogate you. He isn't upset that you assumed he was just like all the others, he's more upset that you'd kept this feeling for three years. 

He holds you closer, still stroking your cheek as he keeps his breathing steady. You're so beautiful and he wants nothing more than to tell you. But he knows it isn't the time. "I'm sorry you've had shitty experiences with arseholes in the past, and judging by how upset you seemed, Griffins seems to have been one of them," he says, any angry look passing across his features again.

He lets out a breath and continues, "I promise you, I didn't know and I didn't compliment you with any ulterior motives. I just, well, I thought you looked pretty and you deserved to know it."

Your heart melts as you look at him and the walls you'd built start to crumble. You look at James and he looks like the same boy you knew three years ago. 

He looks at you the same way as if nothing had changed and you hadn't abandoned him over something so stupid. You strain a small smile, looking a little bashful. "You've always been too kind, James Potter." 

James shakes his head. "You deserve it and more," he whispers. He sounds sincere and still shame bubbles in your stomach. 

"Your game—"

"Can wait," James walks closer, his hand inching towards you as he delicately brushes his pinky with yours. "You're more important."

You feel like you're floating. 

"There's no need to feel alone anymore," he adds, smiling. "I'm here with you."

You could faint. 

"Now, what suitable punishment do you think Griffins deserves?" A familiar smirk graces James's features and he pauses for a moment before he muses darkly, "I know a potion that can cause hair loss—permanently. Or blistering acne?" he sends you a wink. 

You laugh, tracing his palm with your finger. You don't say a word and instead, you walk into his arm and hug him again. James is surprised for a moment until he relaxes into your touch. He inhales, smelling your shampoo and he smiles. He's really missed this. 

For the first time, James doesn't care that he's missing the most important of the season. He doesn't care how angry his teammates will be or how disappointed McGonagall will be with him. He'll deal with the consequences later. All that matters now is you in his arms. 

He's determined not to let you slip from his grasp again.  

[wolfyychan]

Too Sweet

Toto Wolff x Reader

Max Verstappen x ex!Reader

Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)

I take my whiskеy neat

The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”

“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.

The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”

She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.

“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.

“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.

You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”

Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”

Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”

He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”

Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.

“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”

You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”

William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.

“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.

William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.

Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”

“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”

His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”

You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.

“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.

You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.

A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”

For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.

Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.

You deserve so much better than him.

The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.

“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”

“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.

Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.

“Suit yourself, then.”

As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.

Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.

***

“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.

Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.

“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.

That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.

You.

Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.

The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...

The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...

Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.

Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.

Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.

Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.

“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.

Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”

Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.

“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.

“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.

The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.

But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.

As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.

When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.

This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...

… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...

… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...

… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.

Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.

The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.

Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.

The whiskey burns on the way back up.

Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.

You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.

My coffee black

The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.

It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.

A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.

“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”

He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.

“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.

You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.

The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”

You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.

“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.

The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”

“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”

Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”

He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”

You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.

The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”

You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”

Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”

The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.

He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.

With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.

“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.

It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.

“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.

In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.

“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”

His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.

“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”

The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.

Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.

When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.

It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.

He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.

For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.

Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.

“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”

You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.

Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.

His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.

As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.

***

The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.

Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.

Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.

A pure vision of effortless contentment.

His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...

So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.

You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.

“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.

“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”

Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”

Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.

When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.

“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.

You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”

With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.

“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”

Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.

A look he always met with disdain and scorn.

Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.

The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.

“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”

You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”

Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.

Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.

“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”

You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.

“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”

Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.

“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”

Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.

Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.

It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.

In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.

And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.

And my bed at three

The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.

A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?

He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.

You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.

You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”

Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”

He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”

Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.

“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”

You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.

“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”

He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.

Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.

After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.

Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.

And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.

Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.

A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.

Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.

An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?

He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.

Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.

Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.

***

Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn’t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.

With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.

The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.

His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.

It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.

He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.

So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.

“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.

He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.

A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.

“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.

You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”

He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”

“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”

You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.

An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.

But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.

Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.

“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”

Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.

“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”

The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.

In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.

Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.

It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.

A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.

Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.

And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.

Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.

Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.

[wolfyychan]

𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙐𝙇𝘼 𝟭 𝙁𝙄𝘾 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙎.

— note: hello !! here's my first shot at making a fic rec, so please give me feedback on what i can improve. thank you sm !! i hope you enjoyy 😺 😺

• 🩷 = my most favorite reads !!

𝙊𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍 𝙋𝙄𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙍𝙄.

— blurbs and shortwritings

• untitled by @maxlarens

• summer break shenanigans by @clemsnovalak

• the little things by @avawritesthings

• had me at hello by @be4chywritez

• human heater by @pastryfication

• new meetings by @no-144444

— oneshots/imagines

• first time for everything by @katsu28

• decode by @keerysfreckles 🩷

• cold coffee by @tsunodaradio 🩷

SORRY BUT COLD COFFEE HAS GOT TO BE, HAND DOWN ONE OF THE BEST WORKS I HAVE EVER READ. tysmm @tsunodaradio for this absolute masterpiece 🙏

— smau

• imperfect for you by @afterglowsainz

• on the mend by @fastandcarlos

• secretly yours by @paddockletters

• yeah, my wife by @lewisvinga

• grogeous by @piastappies 🩷

𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙎.

— blurbs and short writings

• little spoon by @mirohlayo

• sorry, chat by @tsunodaradio

— oneshots/imagines

• better than the novels by @drgnsfly

• d.n.f by @norrisradio 🩷

@norrisradio i love your work sm, if yall have time read their stuff it's so good

• redline by ↑

• pick your poison, babe by @tsunodaradio

— smau

• camera girl by @forza-pastry 🩷

• how do you turn this thing off? by @povlnfour

• party time by @norrisainz33

• next in line by @piastrisun

• secret but not private by @italiangirlcoresblog

• dj got us falling in love by @astonmartinii 🩷

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙇𝙀𝘾𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘾.

— blurbs and short writings

• retail therapy by @maxtermind

• tiktok trend by @russellsppttemplates

• in sickness and in cramps by @agentstarkid

— oneshots/imagines

• new recruit by @purinfelix

• dogsitter by @pomegranatesarchive

— smau

• 1-800-help-me-park by @httpsserene

• comeback by @harrysfolklore

• (piano) keys to your heart by @astonmartinii 🩷

𝙈𝘼𝙓 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝙉.

— blurbs and short writings

• drunk in love by @pucksandpower

• what are you doing? by 🩷@thepitlanepress

• this... is a french braid by @ipushhimback

• put me down by @thepitlanepress

— oneshots/imagines

• christmax by @harrysfolklore

• fluorescent by @scuderiahoney 🩷

• born to run by ↑

• always walk me home by ↑

• pick you up by ↑

— smau

• a night to remember by @oscarp-writes

• cute funny looking child by @pomegranatesarchive

• out of time by @afterglowsainz

• friend of a friend by @norrisainz33 🩷

• ending the war by @princepiastri

𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙊𝙎 𝙎𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙕.

— blurbs and short writings

• carlos sainz being hopelessly in love: a compilation by @harrysfolklore

• clingy by @vivwritesfics

• the dad who stepped up by @jungwnies

• sfw alphabet by ↑

• happy birthday! by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• prank wars by @n0vazsq

— oneshots/imagines

• come find me by @tsunodaradio 🩷

— smau

• you and me by @sainzzreputaticn

• hand of gold by @pomegranatesarchive

• big news by @norrisainz33

• is it over now? by @afterglowsainz

• secret by @harrysfolklore 🩷

𝙔𝙐𝙆𝙄 𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝘿𝘼.

— blurbs and short writings

• making dinner with yuki by @yukinss

• calm by @multicohn

• what about me? by ↑

• lover boy by ↑

• nightmares by ↑

• best friends "brother" by ↑

— oneshots/imagines

• i believe in miracles by @tsunodaradio

• love at first flight by ↑ 🩷

• almost by @norrisradio

• the one with the baby by ↑

— smau

• short king by @harrysespresso

• #1 defender by @lewisvinga

• short royalty by @rqsie63

𝙁𝙍𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊.

— blurbs and short writings

• good journalism by @purinfelix

— oneshots/imagines

• holly jolly faking by @julietsf1

• just for the weekend by @purinfelix 🩷

• lost and found by ↑

— smau

• challenge accepted by @hugleclerc

• nepo boyfriend by @harrysfolklore

• spanish or vanish by @papayadays

• i like me better by @taasgirl

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR TYSMMM !! have a great day/night 🩷🙈