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nordusk · 19 days

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You can instantly see the bright, white glow of LED lighting by switching a light switch. Solid-state LED lights have become increasingly common during the past ten years, gradually replacing conventional fluorescent and incandescent lamps. But why are LED lights being adopted so widely? In this blog post, we will explore the factors that have led to the rise of LED lighting. Before diving into the discussion, if you are looking for the best place to Buy LED Lights Online in India, reach out to Nordusk LED today.

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theaurum09 · 14 days

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Buy Luxury Ceiling Fans | The Aurum

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halomax1 · 18 days

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Best Residential LED Lights in India Residential LED Lights in Delhi Gurgaon Halomax

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furnoocat · 21 days

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lixrafurniture · 7 months

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Buy Flush Mount Ceiling Lights Online

Lixra is an online shopping destination for furniture and home decor delivered all across USA. The online store is a minority and women-owned Home Furnishing Company based out of Georgia, United States. The portfolio of Lixra contains luxurious and contemporary furniture in Italian and European minimalistic designs.

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pujasanskaram · 1 year

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Buy Indian brass handmade lamps designed by Puja Sanskaram and allow the house to be published. The beautiful handmade brass hanging lamp is full of soothing elements. Brass hanging lamps for home decoration in various colors and sizes are available at our online store. We provide other types of household decorations at affordable prices. Go to our website and explore the favorite things.

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omaliving · 7 months

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Illuminate Your Space with Elegance: Buy Candle Holders for Every Occasion

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devotedlyglitteryangel · 2 years

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online store for designer lights - AerGlo Lighting

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sunraies · 1 year

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hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

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halomax1 · 5 months

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Best Residential LED Lights in India Residential LED Lights in Delhi Gurgaon - Halomax

Residential LED Lights in india

Residential LED Lights in gurgaon\Delhi

LED Lights Manufacturer in India

Buy Ceiling LED Lights Online

Best Residential LED Lights in India – We at Halomax Lighting Solutions, aim to be a the premium lighting Solutions Partner, for architects, interior designers and customers with Global Standards.

READ MORE...Premium Lighting Manufacture in India LED Lights in delhi Halomax

#Residential LED Lights in india #LED Lights Manufacturer in India #Buy Ceiling LED Lights Online

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rottenpumpkin13 · 10 months

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Out of Context Shit Heard on the SOLDIER floor #4

A portion of these were sent in/inspired by an ask sent by @strawberrysnortshake

Zack: Ironically this isn't the first time I've accidentally eaten chalk.

Angeal: Attention everyone we're now taking votes. Raise your hand if you would sleep with Sephi—I DIDN'T FINISH SAYING HIS NAME PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN.

Kunsel: We're all out of duct tape. Angeal used the last of it to tape Genesis to the ceiling.

Sephiroth: Are you satisfied with your fish sticks, Zackary?

Genesis: Why does it smell like mommy issues in here—oh hi, Sephiroth.

Zack: I'm officially 23% goat milk.

Genesis: Well well well if it isn't my old nemesis, Heterosexuality.

Zack: Aww! 🥰 You're the antichrist!

Cloud: Yeah you're a SOLDIER alright, a sold your ass.

Zack: Where are we supposed to put this giant clown statue?

Lazard: WHY do you have a giant clown statue?

Sephiroth walking towards Genesis's office with a flamethrower: The goddess has had it good for far too long.

Essai: If we all chip in, we can finally buy Kunsel a face.

Genesis: I guess this means that the box labeled used illegal knick-knacks is off limits?

Roche: let's all dance maniacally and pretend we're gay!

Lazard: ANGEAL THAT ELEVATOR IS COMING OUT OF YOUR PAYCHECK!

Sephiroth: Are you, as the kids say, flexing on 'em?

Zack: Does anyone know what happened to my Sephiroth scented candle?

Sephiroth: I'll add murder supplies and can of whipped cream to the shopping list.

Luxiere: Let me guess, nobody cared about your light up sneakers?

Zack: 🎶 We take the pain out of paint 🎶

Roche: Have a slutty, slutty evening, director.

Angeal: Gen, can you let me have a cup of coffee before you start divulging your theories on why Cloud Strife is a time traveler?

Zack: I am going to default dance my way through hell!

Cloud: Cool trick! I'm a wizard now.

Genesis: I will start rumors about your sex life.

Lazard: Sephiroth I can't fire you, but I can mysteriously make sure you go bald.

Kunsel: This is a cave. Nothing really matters.

Sephiroth: how does one acquire a leprechaun? Can you order one online?

Roche: Commander Rhapsodos is so pretty. He reminds me of a prostitute.

Sephiroth: Genesis got me a journal for my birthday. I think I'm supposed to write down my feelings but I don't have enough pages for that.

Kunsel: when will we be free from the chains of foot pictures?

Genesis: If I find drugs in this office I'm confiscating it for my own personal use.

Lazard: Would anyone care to explain why there was a condom filled with grape jelly in the break room?

Zack(drunk): Good evening, my esteemed bastards.

Angeal: Bullying is only allowed on the SOLDIER floor if it makes Genesis cry.

Sephiroth: Mental healthn't.

Kunsel: is anyone here familiar with the concept of witchcraft? we're hexing Commander Rhapsodos at dawn.

Luxiere: Here kitty kitt—Oh that is a huuuge cat—OH IT'S GENERAL SEPHIROTH.

Angeal: Why did you spell salmonella as Sal Minella???? Who's Sal???

Sephiroth, while walking towards his office with an entire pie and a fork: Do not presume to question my actions.

Lazard: If we suffer any more budget cuts we're going to use Zack's hair as a broom.

Sephiroth: Which one of you locked Director Lazard in the Janitor's closet?

Cloud, watching Genesis recite LOVELESS: The evil gay red man is at it again.

#ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #ff7r #angeal hewley #final fantasy #zack fair #cloud strife #ff #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii crisis core #ffviir #ffvii remake #ff7 remake

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pimosworld · 6 months

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The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, Angst,Fluff,Hurt,Comfort, Eventual smut,MMF dynamics, a lot of music references, best friends loving each other. Individual warnings will be added to chapters with sensitive topics.

WC-5K

A/N- Dave is basically a stalker but it’s hot. Alicia is the best friend everyone wants and poor Frankie is gonna go through it for a bit I’m sorry.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II

Three days

That’s all it takes for Dave to find you. Even the most conscientious person does not realize their social media footprint. Tattoo artists have taken to posting their portfolios online to help show off their work and maybe connect a few soulmates.

Image searches and his confidential connections are what helps him be so successful. It’s not often he has to give a refund for any reason other than the person he found has no interest in meeting their soulmate.

It’s a feeling he can’t describe when he sees your photo. You have a face like someone he’s known his whole life, yet he’s never met you. Your smile lights up his screen as you stand next to an albeit conventionally attractive woman but just not his type. He knows nothing about you, even with a file on his desk with all the details he could gather about your life.

Francisco is a very lucky man

With his flight booked and a hotel for a week, this should be a fairly quick trip. Once he confirms that it is in fact Frankie’s soulmate, he’ll approach you with the details and hopefully or regretfully connect you with Frankie.

****

Dave doesn’t get nervous. He’s usually all business, not caring much how the person is going to react, he just wants to get it over with so he can be on his way. He spent a little extra time this morning in his hotel, checking over his appearance. A little over dressed for a first meeting, not a single hair out of place.

The record store you work at is not very far from his hotel but he decides to drive anyway. Sweating through his dress shirt isn’t really a good look for a glorified stalker. Yes of course he was a private investigator but people didn’t always kindly take to being told he was hired to find them…as romantic as it may seem to some.

He parks his rental across the street from the record store but he can’t see much with the windows decorated with drawings and a floor to ceiling plant wall. He takes one last look at himself in the rear view mirror, trying too hard not to focus on the lines he’s never noticed before etched across his forehead.

Dave walks the short distance across the street and stops to admire the small easel outside. Buy one get one half off records with today's date written in cute bubble letters. He imagines you spent some time on it but obviously he can’t be certain it was you.

He enters and a bell chimes above his head as you look over busy with another customer.

“Welcome to spins, I’ll be with you in a moment.” You give a half wave and a smile in his direction and he forgets how to be a human for a second. He stands stupidly in the doorway watching you as you animatedly describe something about a hidden poster in the vinyl jacket to the older woman you're helping.

He finally wills his feet to move and picks a random aisle to peruse while he waits for you. He had something prepared to say to you but now he can’t remember for the life of him how to do his job. He looks around admiring the colorful orange and yellow walls. The natural light brightening the small store that you seem to be running on your own. There’s a small nook in the back with an old zenith and two leather chairs on either side. This place feels cozy like a home he’d blend right into. Very unlike his gray drab living room back home.

He stares down at the random assortment of vinyls in front of him and picks one up so he doesn’t look suspicious. Frankly he has no idea what he’s looking at while he racks his brain for an appropriate introduction.

“You don’t strike me as a Grateful Dead fan.” He turns to see you standing there, with that same bright smile on your face when you waved at him. He’s not sure if you said something as you wait patiently for a response, nervously biting your bottom lip between your teeth and he wants to pull it down with his thumb. He’s completely lost it at the sight of you in some worn overalls and orange top matching the decor of the room.

“I’m sorry did you say something?” You duck your head and laugh a little and he can’t help but laugh with you. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to a woman in a very long time.

You gesture to the record in his hand. “Are you a fan?”

“Oh, ugh honestly? I just picked up the first thing I saw.” He sets it back in its place, careful not to mess up the order now that you were watching. “What do I strike you as?”

You smirk and study him up and down, you start circling him like you’re stalking your prey. He follows you with his eyes until he’s forced to turn his head, to which you protest with a stern look. Maybe it’s the way you don’t seem to be intimidated by him or the way you’re so blatantly checking him out that has him so intrigued.

“You look like a Journey fan to me.”

“Well it seems your inspection is correct because I love Journey.” Your squeal of excitement takes him by surprise as you jump up and down.

“I was totally joking…I’ve literally never done that before.” You don’t really know what’s gotten into you but this is quite possibly the most handsome man that’s ever walked into the store and Alicia would kill you if you didn’t at least have a little fun with him.

“I’m glad I could help you find a hidden talent…” He leans in to see your name tag and you can smell the woody scent of his cologne and fresh laundry. You don’t miss the way he licks his lips after he speaks and you would be a complete idiot to not notice he’s flirting with you.

“You look a little overdressed?”

“Dave.” He holds out his hand for you and it nearly dwarfs your own when you shake it. He holds it for a moment longer as he stares down at your wrist. Men always had a weird reaction to seeing your tattoos.

“Well Dave, you’re very dressed up to look at records in the middle of the day.”

This is the part where he says he’s a private investigator.

“I’m an insurance agent.” You raise your eyebrows at that.

This is the part where he says your soulmate hired him to find you.

“I’m here for work for a little while. The store caught my eye.” Chances this man walked into the store on a whim are pretty slim but you don’t really care at the moment.

“Well Dave the insurance agent…sounds fake if you ask me.” You turn to walk away but don’t feel him following you. “The section you want is over here.”

Dave has been having a moral dilemma ever since he saw your photo. It’s being made all that more difficult at the confirmation of your hummingbird tattoo on the inside of your wrist. The same one that he noticed on Frankie when he rolled up his sleeves at the coffee shop.

He follows you to the end of the aisle trying not to look at your ass in those overalls that seem to fit you perfectly. You have a bounce in your step and he can’t for the life of him remember the last time he saw someone so adorably happy.

“It’s hard to pick just one. Departure is a great album but Frontiers has some of their best hits.” You chew on your lip again as you flip through the stack. “But Escape has some amazing songs.”

He can’t help the smile on his face as he listens to your detailed synopsis, it’s something he could listen to everyday. He’s lucky he’s the only customer in here at the moment. He’d kill someone if they dared interrupt his private hand picked selection from you.

“Honestly I would just go with their greatest hits. It has most of the songs you’ll want, maybe missing a few in my opinion.” You say the last part like it’s a special secret that only he and you share. “Don’t mind my rambling…my mom always said I didn’t know what to stop.” Hence the tattoo

You’re holding it out for him like a silver platter, practically beaming and that little part of his brain ticks away again. This is someone’s soulmate. He takes it from you gently and tucks it under his arm.

“We have a player back here if you want to check for any scratches. Everything here is pretty much donated or thrifted by yours truly.” You do a little curtsy and suddenly look nervous for the first time in the conversation.

“I actually have to get going but I really appreciate the hand selection.” He doesn’t miss the way your face drops a little and he so badly wants to stay but if he doesn’t leave now, he never will.

“I’ll get you rung up so you can get out of here. I’m sure you have very important ‘insurance’ matters to attend to.” He lets out a hearty laugh, one he didn’t know he was still capable of.

You enter the total into the old school cash register, everything about this place makes him feel like he’s in the twilight zone. You place it in a paper bag along with a cleaning rag and some random coupons.

“Here you go Dave…bring it back if you’re not satisfied.” He’s trying to be completely normal about you… but the way you emphasize satisfied has him thinking inappropriate thoughts.

“Thanks hummingbird, I’ll be back soon.” He winks as he exits, the bell chiming above his head.

There’s no way he can know your nickname, it’s just a coincidence since he saw your tattoo. Except no one’s called you that in years.

****

“Tell me more.” Alicia hasn’t stopped pacing since you got home from work and told her about Dave.

“I don’t know what else to say.” You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling from the couch. “He was just easy to talk to.” And extremely attractive, charming, well dressed…

She leans over the couch as she cradles your head “Oh babe, you’ve got it bad.”

“Stop, we talked for like five minutes.” Your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. Something about Dave just felt like more than a chance encounter with a stranger. He cared what you had to say, respected your opinion…

“I’ve lost you again.” She’s sitting beside you playing with your comfort blanket, giving you that look.

“Sorry…I’m just overthinking this. I don’t even know anything about him.” You furrow your brow and she leans over to smooth it out.

“Stop that, you’ll get wrinkles.” She’s like a fussy mother sometimes but you love her. “Listen, I'm gonna give you my honest opinion.”

“I’d be disappointed with anything less.”

She grabs your hands and holds them in hers. “I know you just met him, but he sounds nice. So why don’t you just have some fun with it.”

Easier said than done.

“Fine, but I won’t be surprised if I never see him again.” You don’t want to get your hopes up anymore than you already have.

“Oh ya I’m sure he won't be able to pull himself away from his ‘insurance job’ to pay you another visit.” She puts the latter in quotations and you both laugh.

“So you do agree with me! His job sounds so fake.” You shove her lightly as she leans against the headrest.

“I can't judge, I don’t even have a job.”

“So what do you do all day?”

She taps lightly on her chin, fake pondering. “I mostly sit by the window and sigh until you’re off work.”

“Well you should come hang out with me when you’re bored. Who knows you might find yourself a Dave.” You wink at her as you stand from the couch and head over to your record player.

“I might take you up on that. If not just to watch you nerd out over music all day.”

You playfully flip her off as you flip through your personal stack of vinyls. Some from your dad and some you’ve accumulated over the years. Others more recently from the store when a special one catches your eye.

“First of all, you love my taste in music.” You hold up the Prince record and she enthusiastically nods her head. “Second of all, you get to pretend to know all about music on your dates because of muah.”

“Touché. Now put that shit on so we can have a dance party.”

You cue up the music as she dramatically flings off the blanket. You don’t even have to turn around to know she’s standing behind you with her invisible mic in hand.

Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Electric world life, it means forever and that’s a mighty long time.

“Must you do this every time?”

She grabs you by the collar of your sleep shirt, pulling you face to face with her as you try not to burst out into laughter.

But I’m here to tell you there’s something else. The afterworld, a world of never ending happiness. You can always see the sun, day or night.

You sigh in her face and bring your invisible mic up.

So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills, you know the one. Dr. Everything’ll be alright.

You both take a step back and point to each other as the music picks up. These are the moments you live for with your best friend. Soulmate or not.

And if the elevator tries to bring you down. Go crazy.

****

Frankie slides into the booth with a pitcher of beer and three glasses.

“You find your soulmate yet Fish?” Ben pours a glass missing the way Santi rolls his eyes.

“Let the man get settled in.” Santi leans over grabbing the freshly poured beer from Ben and hands it to Frankie.

Ben sends Frankie an apologetic smile but he waves him off.

“It’s only been a few days Ben, but I’m feeling optimistic.”

That surprises Santi a little but he would never tell Frankie that he was skeptical of his friend being receptive to this whole ordeal.

It wasn’t a lie, Frankie was feeling very optimistic these days. He spent hours reading through the testimonials of people who had success with Dave’s services. After their awkward meeting at the coffee shop Frankie needed to put his mind at ease. Majority of the connections had been made in no less than three to five days. This was the end of day three. If his reputation was as good as people said then he should be expecting a call pretty soon.

“How’s Will?” Santi asks, trying to change the subject.

“Hopefully on a beach enjoying some overpriced cocktail with his Wife.” Ben tilts his glass toward the other men as they silently cheers.

His attempt at changing the subject only made Frankie’s mind wander. Thinking of how much fun he had on his honeymoon. How could someone say they were there for better or worse and then decide one day they had enough? He didn’t want to feel like a placeholder in someone’s life.

A light buzzing in Frankie’s pocket brings his attention back to the present. Dave’s name illuminates on the screen of his phone.

“Sorry, I should take this.” Frankie excuses himself from the table and steps outside the bar.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Francisco, it’s Dave York. Do you have a minute to talk?” His tone comes off a little apprehensive but he doesn’t want to assume.

“Ya I have a minute, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a lead I want to follow up on tomorrow.I just wanted to give you an update on how things are going.”

“That’s…amazing. Is there any more you can tell me?” He hears Dave sigh on the other end. “I understand if you can’t, obviously you’re the expert, this is all very new to me.”

“I don’t like to give too much information, just in case it’s a dead end. I will say this person is only a few hours from you.”

Frankie understands what a tough position Dave is in. If this person isn’t his soulmate or for some horrible reason it just doesn’t work out, he’s got his hopes up for no reason.

It stings a little knowing that his soulmate isn’t halfway across the world. They’re potentially in his backyard and quite possibly have been for some time. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself so he tucks that thought away.

“Thanks for the update Dave, hope to hear from you soon.”

“Hopefully I’ll have some good news for you in the next few days.”

Frankie ends the call and enters the bar to rejoin the guys and give them the good news.

****

Dave sits at the hotel lounge, the ice in his drink melted long ago making his whiskey nearly tasteless.

He’s lied to clients before, but never for his own benefit. He’s spent most of the day deciding what to do about you. His mind is going in all directions of how he should handle this situation. From the outside the answer is obvious. This was literally what he was hired to do. He’s connected so many people he’s lost count.

This isn’t the first time he’s found someone’s soulmate attractive…attraction was only one piece of the puzzle. He’s never felt this level of excitement and anticipation of possibly seeing you again. You didn’t belong to him by nature and yet he felt like you were meant for him to find you.

He had to give himself a push in one direction either way, so he decided to call Frankie and tell him he might have found you. There was no going back now, he was going to tell you tomorrow who Frankie is and watch his heartbreak in real time when he sees that look on your face.

You belong to someone else

****

Dave hovers for a moment outside the store. For some reason he feels more uncomfortable in plain clothes than he does in his suit and tie. His reflection in the window of the store feels foreign as he takes in his t-shirt and jeans appearance.

He’s not even sure you’re working today and he’s been trying to catch a glimpse of you in the window but to no avail. Pretty soon he’s going to have to call it a day and head back to the hotel, he thinks he’s getting weird looks from people or perhaps he’s just being paranoid.

He sees some movement finally as you make your way down on the isles. You look flustered when he waves at you and he notices a less than happy gentleman hot on your heels as you head to the register.

When he enters the store and the bell chimes, the man pays him no mind as he continues to raise his voice about a record being scratched.

Dave’s eye twitches a little at the tone he’s taking with you, he clenches his fists at his side as he pretends to look at something in a nearby aisle.

You flinch a little as he points his finger in your face.“So there’s nothing you can do for me? That seems a little ridiculous.”He slaps his hands on the counter and Dave inches a little closer.

“Sir, we listened to the entire album and it didn’t scratch once. I can offer you a copy if I find one or you can pick out something else.” Your eyes are a little glossy and your voice is quivering. There’s a slow rage building in Dave at the moment that he hasn’t felt since he quit his previous job. “Unfortunately, I can’t offer you a refund, it’s store…”

The short disgruntled man cuts you off before you can finish and Dave’s had just about enough.

“I’m sure you can refund me -.”

“I’m sorry did you not hear what she said!?” Dave steps behind the man and he turns to protest but swallows his words before he can speak. His nostrils are flared as he stares the man down. “You can take this one.”

Dave holds his hand out and you look down realizing you’ve been clutching the vinyl close to your chest. You slowly hand it to him as he asks if ‘you’re okay’. The way his hands brushes yours as he winks at you is enough to make you forget that it’s not just the two of you standing there. He’s completely bewitched you and he’s barely said a thing.

The menacing look he gives the man as he hands him the vinyl is quite the inverse to the look he just gave you. The switch was so sudden it made your head spin.The man sends you an apologetic smile and scurries out the front door leaving you with Dave and this unresolved sexual tension building between you.

“Are you here by yourself?” He asks as he glances around the store.

“Well you’re here at the moment…so no.” He smirks at your obvious flirting.“Thank you by the way…you didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s lucky that’s all I did.” Something flashes in his eyes when he says that…

“You’re pretty intimidating.”

He steps closer to you but you don’t move. “You don’t seem intimidated.”

“That’s because I’m not.” You watch his Adam's apple as he swallows your words, stepping impossibly closer.

He’s so close you can smell the mint of his gum mixed with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. His eyes flit to your lips so briefly you might have missed it.

The door chimes and you both break apart.

“Oh shit!” Alicia stands at the door and smiles at Dave.

You try to look anywhere but at her face as he awkwardly clears his throat.

“I’ll just…” She points to the back of the store and walks behind Dave down the aisle. She runs her fingers through her hair mouthing ‘oh my god’ as you try to suppress your chuckle.

He shakes his head not bothering to turn around and ruin your moment with your friend, he’s certain he recognized her from one of your photos.

You practically begged Alicia to visit you at work and of course she picks this exact moment to take you up on your offer.

“So what brings you back to the store? Hopefully you don’t want a refund.” His genuine laugh at your joke is drowned out by the sound of music playing.

I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

“Oh my god I’m going to kill her.” You hide your face in your hands, unable to hide your embarrassment.

I keep looking for something I can’t get

Broken hearts lie all around me

“Cutting crew…she doesn’t have bad taste.” The look on your face lets him know you’re impressed.

Perhaps bad timing but definitely not bad taste.

“I ugh…there was something I forgot to give you last time.” Frankie’s information

You humm awaiting his response as he nervously tucks his hands into his Jean pockets. “I wanted to give you my number…if you’re alright with that.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. This gorgeous man, who has consumed your thoughts for the last several days, came back just to give you his number.

You both react to a squeal from the back as you take note of the music that’s now stopped. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, it seems he’s not used to using those muscles in his face.

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and open your contacts. He should feel bad when you hand it to him, but all he feels is excitement as he enters his contact in your phone and hands it back to you.

“Bye hummingbird.”

You laugh as you glance down at the contact in your phone. Dave-insurance guy

The door barely closes before Alicia is bolting to the front counter. “I’m sorry I interrupted your moment but holy shit.” She wraps her arms around you as you both jump up and down.

“Holy shit is right.” You exhale as she holds you close after your impromptu dance moment. “Thank you.”

She lets you go, giving you an inquisitive look. “For?”

“For always being here.”

She scoffs mockingly offended by your words. “I will always be here for you.” She kisses you on your forehead. “Hummingbird is new?”

“Shut up.”

****

Dave’s finger hovers over the contact in his phone as he sits outside the record store.

Make the call Dave

“Morales.” His cheery tone is not matched by Dave on the other end.

“Francisco, it's Dave. Are you free to meet tomorrow? I'm a little over an hour from you.”

Oh no, Frankie can hear the seriousness in his voice even through the phone. He knew he shouldn’t have got his hopes up. He should’ve just told Santiago to leave it alone.

“Ya, we can meet at the coffee shop from before.” Frankie hangs up the phone after Dave agrees on a time to meet.

Dave smiles down at the phone as the call ends when he sees a text from you.

Here’s my number I hope you like texting 🥰

Works for me hummingbird

****

Santi reaches for the remote to turn down the tv. “That didn’t sound like good news.”

Frankie exhales as he looks up at Santiago. “He wants to meet in person.” It’s safe to assume he doesn’t want to break any bad news to him over the phone.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No hermano, I should handle this myself.” Frankie sits on the couch next to him and pats him on the shoulder. “I don’t blame you if this doesn’t work out. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, you know.”

“Ya…maybe.”

Santi can never quite explain what goes through his head when he gets these grand ideas, for whatever reason he’s going to leave Frankie out of this one and handle it himself. He knows next to nothing about Dave, but something in his gut is telling him things aren’t quite right.

****

If there was a Guinness book of world records for being late to a job you live down the street from, you’d have the award.

The bathroom is still slightly steamy from your shower and you can hardly see yourself in the mirror. You didn’t usually spend so much time on your hair and makeup but if Dave was going to stop by again you wanted to look nice.

Your phone pings as you finish the wing on your liner.

Dave: Are you free for lunch today?

Yes I’m free at 1 if that works for you

Dave: See you at 1 hummingbird

You stare at the text with a giddy expression on your face. Your phone is flying out of your hand before you can stop it as you collide with Alicia as you exit the bathroom.

“Shit I’m sorry.”

She picks up the phone before you, holding it just out of reach. “If I read this…will it be naughty?” You note the playfulness in her tone.

“No.” Although the thoughts you’ve been having about him late at night definitely are.

She pouts and hands it back to you. “You almost sound disappointed.”

You didn’t really mean it to come off that way, but you can’t help but think how long it’s been since you’ve been with anyone.

“He asked me out to lunch.”

The look on her face is borderline psychotic as she grabs your shoulders. “Please tell me you said yes. I can figure out how to sell records if you need me to cover you, it can’t be that hard. No offense babe.”

You giggle at her excited rambles. “Thanks but I usually just close during lunch anyway.” You pry her hands from your shoulders and walk towards her room with her hot on your heels.

“Where are you going?”

“To your closet to borrow that blue blouse that makes your tits look great.”

She moves you aside aggressively shuffling through the hangers. “I meant where are you going to have lunch?” She rips the blouse down and tosses it to you.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” You glance at the clock as you finish getting dressed. “Shit, I have to go babe. Love you.”

You yelp as she slaps your ass when you walk away,she calls out to you just as you're closing the front door.

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

****

Dave scrubs his hand across the mirror in the hotel bathroom. Even with the blur he can see the extra lines in his face, his tired eyes illuminating under the bright fluorescent lights.

Sleep hadn’t come easy if at all the night before. He was flying so high when he left the store after he gave you his number.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind of you so obviously turned on at his show of protectiveness. Your pupils were blown wide as you inched closer to him. He could practically reach out and touch you. He wanted to kiss your perfect lips and have you pressed into his body.

He pictured your hands in place of his as he stroked himself in the shower, your soft voice in his ear and your pliant body beneath him as he came painting the walls of the shower. His mind cleared as the water ran cold. How was he going to explain who he was? His job was a lie, besides for his name, everything he told you was a lie.

There was no rational thought when it came to you. A night of no sleep didn't make the situation any better. He’s asking you to lunch before his brain can catch up with the action. You’re saying yes before he can stop the train that’s in motion.

He keeps telling himself he’ll figure the rest out later…but later was coming up on him fast and he needed to come up with a solution.

Thankfully Frankie wanted to meet early. That would give him plenty of time to get there and back and pick up lunch for the both of you. Maybe in the meantime he’ll come up with a plan…or he’ll continue on as he is completely fragmented from reality.

****

He was determined to get here before Dave

Frankie’s starting to hate this coffee shop. It tastes a little more bitter than the last time. The lights are just a little too bright for his liking. The noise is just a little too much. Everything seems turned up too high and he wants to crawl out of his skin.

He talked about this with his therapist. When he starts to feel like this he should take a few deep breaths and try to ground himself. With every deep breath he tries to take, it’s like his lungs won’t fill up enough.

Maybe he should’ve let Santiago come with him

“Hey Francisco.”

Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin when Dave greets him at the table. His whole demeanor is much lighter than the first time they met here.

Dave takes in his frazzled appearance…he’s like a caged animal ready to strike. Dave’s seen this look before, in others but mostly himself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Frankie waves him off. “It’s fine…just had too much coffee.” His smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “You can call me Frankie by the way.” Formalities out the window when you’ve hired someone to find the love of your life.

Dave swallows thick at the way Frankie disarms a little. The last thing he needs is to start liking the guy who’s girl he’s stealing. Even admitting it to himself feels like an incredible violation.

“Listen Francis…Frankie-.”

“Before you start.”

They chuckle after speaking simultaneously and Frankie clears his throat. “Look…it didn’t sound on the phone like you had good news. So please just give it to me straight.”

Dave looks away from his eyes, focusing on his large hands virtually dwarfing the small coffee cup. Focus

“I found a lead, but it turned out to be a dead end. Trust me these things take time and I’m working as hard as I can.” Lies

Frankie briefly removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I know we got off on the wrong foot but it means a lot that you’re trying.” Being paid to at least

Albeit a flimsy bridge, they manage to bridge some gap that had formed when they first met. Dave almost forgets he needs to make his way back in time to meet you for lunch.

They say their goodbyes and part ways.

Santiago watches Dave exit the cafe from across the street as he starts up the car.

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charmingly-evil · 2 months

Text

Just tonight

Olivia was going to murder Finn.

Olivia was sitting at a trendy restaurant that just opened in the city. Blue, neon lights dangled from the ceiling like a shower of raindrops, its dim lighting providing a cool ambiance to the room. On stage opposite the bar, a washed up looking artist strummed lazily on his guitar, pausing only to drink from his glass of whisky.

Olivia sat opposite her blind date that Finn had set her up with. Her lips were strained into a thin smile I she feigned interest at what he was talking about, while her mind imagined the multiple ways she would kick Finn’s arse at work tomorrow. What the hell was he thinking?

Her date’s name was Steven Ghett, well Dr Steven Ghett as he had reminded her countless times tonight. He was a law professor at Harvard. Apparently, he had turned down an offer to speak at an online early career’s conference at Yale, something he was quick to boast about.

Olivia was just going through the list of excuses she could make to leave right now, when he said,

“So Olivia, how is a beautiful Captain such as yourself still single?”

Then to her horror, she felt his hand slipping under her dress. Olivia immediately sprang back. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Olivia, I’m sorry, I was-“

“I don’t know how your dates go, but a guy at least buys me dinner and asks me two questions about myself before going there. I think we’re finished here,” Olivia said the last part dismissively as if she was ending an interrogation with a perpetrator. She reached for her purse, brushing the ends of her midnight blue dress down.

Steven too was standing up, protesting. “Olivia I’m sorry, please give me another chance.”

“I gave you thirty minutes, we’re done.”

Steven grabbed her wrist as she turned to go, stopping her. “Olivia-“

“You heard the lady”.

Olivia’s eyes leapt up with surprise towards the familiar face. “Elliot?”

Elliot didn’t take his eyes off her date. “Now you better let go of her, or I’ll take care of that hand for you.”

Steven’s eyes shifted between Elliot’s stone-cold gaze and his knuckles, that twitched by his side into tight fist. Steven dropped Olivia’s hand and cleared his throat, averting his gaze from Elliot.

“Olivia, you have my number.”

Then he hurried off.

Olivia huffed, shooting a glare at Elliot. He cracked her a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“I was handling it you know.”

“Hey, I don’t doubt that you would have had that arsehole head locked against the table, I just didn’t want you to cause a scene.”

Elliot shrugged off his jacket and slipped into the booth, helping himself to some fries. “So, who was that guy anyway? A date?”

“Well actually, yes,” Olivia said slowly, slipping off her purse and joining Elliot. “A friend set us up. And it’s the last time I go on a blind date. You know he spent the whole night talking about himself and didn’t ask me one question about myself? And he got my name wrong twice, he called me Lydia.”

Elliot exhaled slowly, not believing it. “Forget about him Liv.”

Elliot raised his eyes, taking her in. It may have been a blind date, but it was obvious that Olivia has gone all out for it. Her hair fell in luscious waves around her frame. She wore a midnight blue, V-neck dress, which dipped between her breasts and gathered to the side on her right like curling waves, before flowing out to the other side like a tail. Olivia wore sapphire, tear drop earrings and blue, shimmering eye shadow to compliment her dress.

Elliot could only imagine the time it took her, rushing home from work to feed Noah before getting ready for her date. It made Elliot want to find the man and punch him. “You look stunning Liv. It’s his loss for not appreciating what he had.”

Olivia dipped her head down at the compliment, her lips softening into a small smile. When she looked back up, she saw the familiar, endearing twinkle in his eye. “I wouldn’t usually say yes to meeting a stranger, not when we’re up to our necks with new cases and pushing overtime almost every night this week. But my psychologist encouraged me to ‘get out there and’…” Olivia’s voice trailed off, then she shook her head, wondering why she was telling him this. She returned her gaze to Elliot. “What about you El? This isn’t exactly your vibe.”

Olivia tilted her head to the side, referring to the velvet booths and colourful cocktails with curly plastic straws.

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Well, ah, I actually was also on a blind date. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to pick the location.”

Olivia’s eyes rounded with surprise. She took a sip of her drink and said casually, her voice trying not to break, “Really? So, how did it go? Better than mine I hope.”

Elliot’s lips tilted into a faint smile. “She seemed interested in a second date. But, ah…I don’t know.” He drummed his fingers against the table, his eyes lowering to the empty whisky glass. “It didn’t feel right, you know?”

Olivia studied him for a moment. “Sometimes it can take time to form a connection. How did you meet her?”

“Fin set me up. It was the second time he had asked me if I was free to meet her, I thought I had better say yes.”

Olivia’s eyes widened with shock, as she muttered under her breath “I am going to kill Fin.” Sensing Elliot’s confusion, Olivia explained, “Fin set me up with my blind date tonight.”

Elliot took a moment to process the news, piecing together what this meant. Realisation dawned in his eyes as he whispered, “that son of a bitch. You think he set us up?”

“Well, do you think it’s a coincidence that we both had blind dates tonight, was set up by the same friend and were told to meet at this bar?”

Elliot shook his head slowly, breathing out a small chuckle. “Do me a favour will you? When you kick his arse tomorrow, take a photo.”

Olivia breathed out an incredulous laugh. “He has some nerve. What the hell was he thinking?”

Elliot shrugged. “Well, it looks like he was trying to see if he could use your failed date to set his friends up?”

“You mean to tell me that he set me up with that jackass on purpose?”

Elliot looked dubious. “I don’t know, my date wasn’t bad. She works as an oncology nurse. Intelligent, sexy, ambitious and charming.”

Olivia took a sip of her wine, pursing her lips as it went down. “That’s quite a list.”

Elliot cast her a look, an amuse smile crawling across his lips. “Is that a hint of jealousy that I detect in your tone captain?”

Olivia almost snorted. “I think you’ve had too much to drink detective.”

“Well, it didn’t matter anyway.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not you Liv.”

His words caught her off guard, like they did two years ago, when he first confessed that he loved her. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she struggled to respond, her mind still scrambling to process his words. Fortunately for Olivia, a waiter came by, offering Elliot a drink menu.

Elliot ordered a whiskey, then returned his gaze to Olivia, who was staring into space.

“Liv?”

Olivia startled, meeting his eyes.

Elliot continued softly, “You know, we never got to pick up our conversation…following that night at yours.”

Olivia blew out a small breath as memories from that night flashed back to her. She remembered the feeling of his body pressed against her, his smell, the way her name fell from his lips…Liv, I care for you.

Olivia remembered how she felt like she was melting into his body.

Elliot asked, “Should I be jealous of other dates?”

Olivia’s lips tilted into the tiniest of smiles at his attempt to lighten the mood. She shook her head slowly and whispered, “No.”

Olivia didn’t miss the way his face lit into a smile.

“So, you said that you weren’t ready for this back then.”

Olivia hadn’t realised that she had been nervously fiddling with the stem of the wine glass until Elliot gently reached for her fingers, stopping her. Olivia glanced down at their intertwined fingers.

Elliot asked her softly, “Liv, where are we now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to think about it since that night…”

Elliot caught her gaze. “And if you think about it now?”

Olivia could feel his fingers drawing circles around the back of her thumb, and it made her breath catch in her throat once more. It made it near impossible for her to think.

Finally, Olivia said, “I want to El. I really do…I just don’t know if I can trust you.”

Elliot swallow, then he said, “Okay. What if I don’t ask for your trust, but just one date?”

Olivia raised her eyebrows, curious at his suggestion. Elliot, sensing her openness, quickly encouraged her. ‘Just one date Liv, that’s all I’m asking.”

Olivia studied him closely, then said, “Alright detective, you have your chance. One date.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Olivia bit back a smile, a twinkle in her eye. “You can have me for tonight”. Then she leaned in closer, her voice a smoky whisper as she said, “So detective, what will you do with me?”

…

fun fact I dictated this entire fanfic because I'm slowly losing the functioning of my hands since I was diagnosed with neurogenic thoracic outlet syndrome. Fingers crossed and please pray for me that will work so I can get better and get back to typing more bensler!

#olivia benson #bensler #svu

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pinkandgoldensoul · 1 year

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pairing: max verstappen x female!reader genre: friends to lovers, kind of slow burn, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, online hate towards reader, insecurities, fluff, angst other notes: fake instagram things? Loosely based on Singapore GP 2022 word count: 10.1k (as always, feel free to use dividers to split the chapter into chunks!) A huge thanks to whoever reblogs or likes the story and a special thanks to @ally4and33 for her support in the last couple days! ♥ Love you all!

It felt soft. The light knocking on your eyelids, asking for permission with its warmth. As your entire body slowly moved, awakening, you snuggled up to the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders and enjoyed its coziness. Max’s smell still trapped onto the pillow, you smiled with eyes closed. He wasn’t there, but you knew he had been all night, cuddling with you and falling asleep; you still could feel his thumb repetitively rubbing your skin as he held you close and the beating of his heart lingered on your mind as a beautiful song that you play on loop, knowing all the lyrics. By heart. Waking up to those memories – real ones, this time – made your insides twist in a pleasant discomfort; you knew you weren’t mistaken, you knew Max had stayed over with you, holding each other, and you didn’t have to fear or mistrust your mind. You had snuggled and cuddled together, and nobody could doubt it. No drunk, slurred mental estate could put those moments at risk. You owned them, forever.

You looked over to the side, only to realize Max wasn’t lying next to you. You weren’t surprised, though; you figured he may have decided to go training, have breakfast or simply get up. Staring at the ceiling, you smiled: your nose didn’t feel as stuck as it was the day before and an unknown wave of positive, bright feelings earned you a decent dose of optimism. You probably had been needing it for quite a long time. «Good morning, y/n.» Max’s voice made your head snap up towards the door, and you actually would’ve preferred not to see him. That smile wrinkling his lips, his eyes brimming with light, his whole appearance blinding you way more than sun beams could ever manage to: everything about him enchanted you. «Morning,» you whispered, stretching a bit. «Slept well?» he asked, getting closer to the bed. «Really, really well.» you answered, uncapable of stifling in a huge smile. «Bet you did, it’s 11:30!» Max said, laughing. «You sleep in way more than I do, c’mon!» As you said that, you rolled over the bed, facing the pillow, and you felt the mattress sinking down onto your side due to Max’s weight. «I’ve bought you some medicine.» You eyed the small plastic bag he still held in his hands. «I think I’m doing better.» «Doesn’t mean you’ve fully recovered.» Max added. «I know, but-» «No, don’t even bother telling me you don’t need medicine because I’m not listening to you.» After a small pause, Max looked at you again, almost unsure. «Do you really feel better?» «Yes, still a bit sluggish, but I feel fine.» Despite the positives in your feedback, he couldn’t help but get stuck thinking about the negatives. «Sluggish? Maybe you have a little bit of temperature?» «I don’t think so?» Max rummaged into the plastic bag and took out a brand-new thermometer. «Why did you buy a new one?» you chuckled at the sight. «Because now this is your personal thermometer.» «Thanks…? Didn’t know I’d need a personal one.» you raised a brow, still amused. «Oh, but this is special, y/n. It will know everything about you.» You inspected the packaging thoroughly, trying to convince yourself it would, without really succeeding. «You can give a name to it, if you want.» «Max, it’s a freaking thermometer!» you laughed. «So what? It may get offended if you don’t. You know, it’s really sensitive.» As he cracked that lame joke, you glared at him. «Tell me you didn’t say that.» Max’s cheeks immediately squished upwards to make room for his mesmerizing and innocent smile, happy and giggling as a kid would do after making a mess. And you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning at him as well. «You’re so stupid…» «And now I’m sure you don’t have a temperature, because your heart’s stone cold. Poor thermometer.»

After a couple of minutes – and a lot of insisting – Max dragged you out of the bed so that you could have some breakfast-brunch-lunch-whatever you have before noon; then, he persuaded you to take some medicine to relieve the dizziness and you started to feel better. Max noticed your eyes got livelier and livelier as time passed by and it only encouraged him to suggest new activities, as he would’ve liked to spend all day talking with you, relaxing on the couch, or onto the bed watching a movie, but in his mind a whim, an urge, a need and, ultimately, a duty, called upon him. Getting ready for Singapore. He needed to come back to his other house to get some simulator work done, he was missing it; but how could he ask you to come with him and get bored all alone? Or if you decided to stay at the apartment, how could he leave you alone again? Max felt troubled at the way he had gradually become unable to accept the idea of you being on your own; it wasn’t a matter of trust, despite the latest events. He simply couldn’t let go of your soft hands, of your scent, of your lips curving into a beautiful smile, of your voice chanting him like a siren.

Sitting onto the bed, Max played with your hair, combining strands into a messy braid. So lost in the process, he didn’t even remember when and why he had asked you to let him do so. «Are you going for a loose braid?» you enquired, enjoying the slow-paced rhythm of his fingers working on your hair. «Yes, my specialty.» As he heard you giggling, Max felt his heart caving in. «When did you learn to braid?» «When I was seven. My mum taught me how to braid Victoria’s hair.» A fond smile immediately bloomed onto your lips, and you were lucky enough not to have Max in front of you, so that you could hide it. He had shared with you a few of his childhood memories before, and his sister’s name always came up, either because she was present or absent during his karting days; you could tell he really loved her and somehow still felt sorry for taking their father and himself away from her. He had also showed you some pictures, which had your heart melting in awe, though you’d try to dissimulate. Max was a loving person and you cherished every seed of affection he would plant along the way, just so you could grow even fonder of him. «Is it done?» you asked, as the weight of your hair leaned back onto your skin. «Yes.» With a quick motion, you brought the braid forward, onto your collar bone, and stared at it. Max sat back in front of you and got captured by the sun light shining through the window behind your back, reflecting its gold onto some rebel strands of hair, as a perfect frame to your face. Reacting way too late to your “Thank you”, Max stuttered, realizing he still had to tell you about his plan. Had he prepared one? Not really. But his instinct dictated it to him, spontaneously, as he started speaking to you. «Tomorrow I need to go back to the house and get done the training for the race and I was thinking you could come with me.» Your eyes immediately flicked to his, a glimpse of surprise flashing inside of them. «A-are you sure? I don’t want to bother you…» «I’ll be locked inside a room pretty much all the time, how could you ever disturb me?» he chuckled. As you pondered in silence, Max prompted you with all the activities you could undertake there and reassured you about getting proper medications if you still needed them, offering to be the one to go buy them. As he kept maxplaining in order to persuade you, you giggled and stopped his rambling. «Max, it’s okay. I’ll come.» you smiled. His face immediately lit up, and your chest ignited at the sight; without noticing, his fingers had reached yours onto the bedcover and they had shared a rush of electricity, of magic. Of complicity. Of… something. Something you couldn’t name, but definitely something sweet, warm, comforting and almost painful at the same time. #

«This is the room. Do you need me to show you the bathroom?» «No, we’ve been here a few days ago, I remember.» «Fine.» Max scratched his head. «I’m… I’m going to ask what’s for dinner.» «Okay… I’ll take out my toiletries, then.» «Perfect!» Max rushed out of the bathroom quickly, eaten alive by embarrassment. He’d been awkward in his life before and obviously had slipped up countless times, but after that little talk, a thin veil of uncertainty, hesitation and discomfort weighed down onto his cheeks as a fire, covering the skin with a soft blush and making his hands slightly clammy. Max hated not being in control of his heart drumming inside the ribcage, pleading to get out and reach its half; he hated his voice cracking or sounding insecure despite the attempts at dissimulating; and he also hated his mind running, racing on its own and replaying moments he’d prefer not to be reminded of while standing in front of you. Could he really blame his mind, though? After all, he had been the one to ask you to come back to the house where you nearly had kissed, nearly had hooked up, nearly had crossed the fine line between friends and not-just-friends; still, it was the place you had danced clinging to each other, got drunk together with smiles, whispers, fingers intertwining and shivers, cutting all the noise and everybody else out of your piece of heaven. All these memories were mere rings to a longer chain and the more Max tried to trail back to its beginning, the further it would get due to the new – old – images of you two together, packed inside the same untitled folder of his heart. The only partial relief was he wouldn’t be able to spend too much time with you due to the simulator training.

He wasn’t alone in his struggles, though. You avoided the reflecting surface of the mirror in which you had seen played forbidden fantasies only a couple days before, and as you turned around taking a closer look to the bathroom, you eyed the bathrobe you had worn, all your attention channeled towards those three letters on full display. Max. You recalled yourself freaking out in there, convinced you and him had slept together, then stealing the robe away without a second thought. When did it all become so overwhelming you would fall apart simply going back to those memories? You closed the cabinet with a firm thud: getting through the sudden closeness had never seemed so hard.

«Hello?» Slowly waking up, you tried opening your eyes. «Hi, Alice, what’s up.» It was Max speaking; his voice was distant, but still clear enough to hear it. «No, I’m awake. Why are you calling, though?» He seemed like he was in the room next to yours, at the phone with someone. «Hope it’s not a new media activity, we already have a lot this week.» Visualizing the floor plan in your head, you reasoned he was in his bedroom. «What? Is this a joke?» As Max’s tone raised, you couldn’t refrain yourself from eavesdropping a little bit more attentively. «But where did they get these numbers? Did they make them up? Unbelievable…» Numbers? Was he talking about simulation work? «Well, we could sue them for defamation. ‘Cause we’re fine, right?» Nope, definitely not simulation work. Your forehead hurt, and with those words dancing in your brain confusion inevitably grew. «Alice, can we please talk about this on Wednesday? Just tell me that other thing.» Hands rubbing tiredness out of your face, you sat onto the bed. «For fuck’s sake… Is it bad?» Feet barely touching the ground, you tried gathering energies to get up. «THEY SAID WHAT?!» But Max’s altered voice got you flinching, startled, frozen in place. «How do they dare? Write down all their names, because I’m not being interviewed by those assholes! Don’t get them near me! Fucking dickheads.»

With featherlike steps, heart thumping in your chest, you leaned against the door frame of Max’s room, trying not to disturb him and hinting at your presence at the same time. «No, we’re not discussing it now,» he said in a hurry, after noticing you were standing a few meters away. You unsurely walked towards him. «But I want this to be clear: I am deciding what to do, and I don’t want anybody else to interfere.» As Max abruptly ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket, only to look at you, the breath you were holding finally released. «Who was it?» you managed to whisper, full of doubts and uncertainty. Max, noticing your distress and able to read that little veil of sleepiness you hadn’t been able to shrug off your face, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, giving you a shy smile. «Alice Hedworth.» You raised a brow, in confusion. «The communications manager of the team.» he plainly answered. You looked down, recalling the quick-tempered replies he had given, then raised your eyes back at him. «Why would you have to sue people? What happened?» «Did you eavesdrop?» You gaped at him, feeling like a thief caught red-handed. «Uhm… It woke me up, so…» Max sighed. He’d rather not tell you, but he was aware it was inevitable for you to find out eventually, so there was no point in hiding it from you. Plus, there was probably nothing to worry about. Or at least Max hoped so. «Some journalists claim we breached the cost cap last year. They also say another team is involved, but of course, we’re the ones under the spotlight and now they’re complaining about how it’s unfair we won the championship, since we did it illegally, to their saying.» Max’s placid expression wasn’t able to instill reassurance in you. «But you guys are really fine?» «Of course we’re fine, they’re just coming at us because they cannot accept they’ve lost and scandal is the only way to bring us down at the moment, since their car can’t.» He slightly chuckled at his own comment, but again, it did nothing to calm your mind down. «How could they invent all of this? I mean, it’s a pretty big accusation, they must have some sort of proof in order to say it… How did they get numbers?» «I don’t know, I’m not an accountant. And you aren’t a detective, y/n.» Max said, smiling at you. «C’mon, let’s go have breakfast.» He was guiding you towards the kitchen with his fingers barely brushing against your lower back, when suddenly another thought crossed your mind. «What was the second thing?» «Uh?» he said, caught off guard. «You said you wouldn’t release interviews to some journalists.» you explained, taking a seat. He frowned. «You really paid attention to the conversation, didn’t you?» Max turned his back to you, grabbing two cups from the cupboard and hiding his reaction to the topic. «You don’t have to worry about it.» he downplayed. «Just paparazzi being annoying as always. But they’ll be taken care of.» You would’ve liked to pay more attention to the way his tone had subtly turned serious, suggesting bother and almost rage; the last bit of the sentence been spitted out of the mouth as a curse, in a lower voice, so that its darkness couldn’t reach you.

You should’ve known. You should’ve expected it to happen, sooner or later. It was bound to happen, you told yourself. After all, been dragged down the pitlane by one of the most famous drivers in the world under thousands of flashing cameras wasn’t really a gesture that would get anyone go unnoticed by the press. Of course, medias had gone crazy over those pictures taken in Monza, but the true bomb was dropped with the rumors of the probably-not-so-private party of last week. Suddenly, your name started to travel from mouth to mouth, even though nobody had ever acknowledged your presence before. You went from being a stranger to the Cupid’s arrow breaking into Max’s cold heart, the one who caused him and Kelly to argue and ultimately split, a mysterious girl no one knew who had unspecified intentions: clout? Money? Visibility? After all, you could’ve never gained those alone: you weren’t that beautiful. Kelly was way prettier than you; she brought a heavy and significant surname and was successful in her field. Who were you? A parasite? A gold digger in search of fifteen minutes of fame? A lot of people agreed on the fact that you definitely didn’t look like someone worthy of being pictured together with Max Verstappen. To be fair, nobody had prepared you for it anyway, but you couldn’t say Kelly hadn’t warned you.

The weather in Singapore was extremely humid; you couldn’t tell, though, if the sweat forming onto your skin was the product of the low atmospheric pressure or the fruit of being swamped and chased by a group of photographers, journalists and phones used as microphones, directly pointing at you like knives. It wasn’t a walk of shame; indeed, you couldn’t understand what was there to be ashamed of, you didn’t know what you were supposed to tell those people, and neither could guess what they expected to hear when there was nothing you had to say. Still, your gut sensed the hidden words and the secret turmoil you had to keep inside, paired up with the anxious oppression of the small crowd surrounding you, addressing questions at you, as you marched head-low towards Red Bull’s garage. «Are you the reason Max and Kelly Piquet broke up?» «How long has he been cheating on Kelly with you?» «Y/n, please answer some questions for us!» «How did you guys meet? When did your relationship developed into something more?» «Y/n, please, can you confirm the rumors about the party in Monaco?» «Can you tell us more about your family?» You abruptly halted your steps. Which family?, you bitterly said to yourself. Still lost in thought, you distinctly heard the clicks of a camera taking pictures. In that exact moment, you felt nothing more than a lifeless doll inside a lions’ cage: you weren’t a person anymore, you were just an object, without feelings and sensitivity, which had to withstand whatever they wanted to do to you or give them anything they tried to gain from you. Before rage could take the upper hand, you felt two hands dragging you away from the journalists. «It’s enough pestering for today.» You felt Carlos quickly grabbing your arms and guiding you towards the heart of the paddock, in order to leave all of them behind and preventing them from even daring to follow you. «I promise you the hospitality is a much quieter place.» he said, smiling. A veil of numbness, though, had washed emotions away from your face: reality had thrown an ice bucket at you, not only forcing you to face your inner chaotic magma of feelings, but justify the lack or the presence of them in front of the world as well. It was clear, you weren’t ready. You told yourself the timing of the news was absolute crap, unmerciful, cruel; if it had happened a couple months earlier, the situation would’ve been almost totally under control. Because you would’ve had nothing to control. «Don’t mind them, they’re going to drop it soon.» Carlos’ words momentarily distracted from your trail of thoughts, and you were glad they did. «Hopefully you’re right.» you sighed.

You both plopped onto a small couch in the living area, absentmindedly watching the tv hung on the wall. Sitting in silence, caught in your headspace, you didn’t notice the Spaniards eyes studying your expression. «So… Italy did good to the both of you, uh?» Carlos smugly looked at you. You rolled your eyes, kind of annoyed. «Stop it.» «I mean, now I get why you were so worried something happened at the party.» «Aren’t you supposed to help me relax?» «Isn’t it working?» Your furrowed eyebrows made your confusion clear. «No?» «I think it does. Now that you’re mad at me, you’re getting those journalists out of your head.» As a faint smile lingered onto your lips, a voice coming from the tv immediately caught your attention, drew your gaze, captured your undivided attention: Max’s. Seeing him suddenly lit up your opaque features, and Carlos noticed; unfortunately, he also witnessed distress and worry replace the fondness inside your eyes. You couldn’t bear the sight of it. No, as much as you tried to avoid it, there was an inner part of you that shattered in pieces while hearing journalists insinuating stuff without proof, implicitly – but not trying to hide it either – suggesting Max wasn’t worthy of being a champion, that the 2021 title had been robbed. Once again, his abilities and merits were questioned looking at parameters that didn’t include his outstanding performance and talent. And it hurt you; somehow, it hit close. When he had informed you about the rumors it didn’t seem that bad, or serious, or anything that could be real, to be honest; but everybody referred to it as a grounded certainty, a fact to deal with and, even before an official confrontation with the FIA, all cried scandal. Inside Max’s cold eyes, you read frustration and anger. You couldn’t stand it. So you stood up. «Y/n?» Carlos asked. You left the hospitality without adding a word.

Your feet automatically moved down the paddock with small and quick steps, trying to go as fast as they could. You didn’t cross eye with anybody, because the only person you wanted to see wasn’t walking in the crowd. There was un urge, a deep-rooted need to seek refuge in Max’s arms, unfold your distress and take out his, merge them together and let go of them. With fidgeting hands, you reached for your phone in the jeans’ pocket and called him. You had so many things to tell him; so many useless words to make sure he was doing okay, so many dreamed reassurances you wanted to give and be given back. Although he wasn’t picking up, you marched towards your destination until you finally saw Red Bull’s logo standing out onto the external wall of the hospitality. You were ready to approach the entrance, about to step onto the stairs and run inside, but someone sprung up in front of you warding you off with an arm. «Sorry, you can’t get inside!» This person from the team guided you a couple meters away from the door you desperately wanted to cross. You looked at her closely, and you saw a tag onto her Red Bull shirt. That Alice, uh? Now it makes sense. «What?» you simply asked. «You’re not allowed to get inside our hospitality, I’m sorry.» she quickly repeated, shaking her head. «But I need to talk to-» «Y/n, I’m sorry, but you can’t. I don’t know what Max told you, but we as a team have other problems to deal with at the moment and we don’t want rumors about you two to be on the list as well.» The stern expression she put on made you stand still, speechless, almost uncapable of reacting. «Also, you’re not allowed inside the garage throughout the weekend. As soon as the situation with the media gets better, you’ll be welcomed again, I promise.» «I just wanted to talk to him.» you whispered. She sighed. And she left. After exchanging a few words with people from the stuff – probably making sure they wouldn’t let you in – she disappeared inside the building, and with her all your hopes of relief.

«She can’t get near Max down the track, in the pitlane or here in the paddock, okay? Paparazzi are everywhere and they’re just waiting for those two to slip up again.» Alice spoke to some colleagues in the communication area with a peremptory tone; hearing heavy steps behind her, though, she immediately turned into ice. «Who’s slipping up?» Max asked, quickly taking a sip from his water bottle. Alice deeply inhaled, mastering the courage to confront him. «You and y/n, Max.» she replied, sharp. As your name was brought into the conversation, Max’s focus shifted completely on it. «What happened? Did you see her? Did you talk to her?» Alice, trying not to get intimidated by his pressing questions, kept her tough face on. «She came here to see you and I had to make her leave. There are too many eyes on you, and I’ve already told you this is an extremely delicate moment! Also, Kelly is involved, and we don’t need other troubles…» «But Kelly isn’t involved at all, this is only between me and y/n! And we’re not even together!» Max said, raising his voice in frustration. «Press doesn’t care about the truth, they just know what they can see! And they will try to dig deeper if you give them the opportunity to.» «So what? I can’t see her anymore? She isn’t going to come over to our garage for races?» Max asked, sarcastic. He probably expected Alice to match his sarcasm, but she hesitated, afraid to fuel his rage. Her silence, of course, did the exact opposite. «I told you it’s my decision! If I want to hang out with her, I will! You’re nobody to tell me who I can spend my time with!» «This isn’t meant to be against you, and you know it.» Of course not, he thought. It never is. They treated him like a little puppet for their PR content he didn’t give a shit about and expected him to accept restrictions on the people he could spend time with. His manager, approaching Max to calm him down, put a hand onto his shoulder. «Come on, Max, let’s go-» «What would you do if they asked you to stop hanging out with a dear friend of yours?» he asked Alice, gradually more uncapable of containing anger. «I’d do it, if it’s for the good of the team.» «But this only has to do with me! My friendships don’t involve the team!» «Yes, but YOU are part of the team! Guess what, for most you ARE the team, you represent it, and when they see you, they think of Red Bull!» «And do you think this is fair to me or to anyone else working in the team?» he replied, crossing arms. «Okay, Max.» Alice said, resigned. «Okay. If you don’t like it, you can call Christian and tell him yourself.» With that, Alice simply walked away: she had nothing else to add, since there was no one willing to listen.

Max didn’t waste any time. His steps echoed through the corridors – followed by his manager, who vainly tried to stop him – and constant loud thumps could be heard from quite a distance, causing a few employees to peek the head out of their office to check who was passing by. He didn’t even knock on the door; there wasn’t time for formalities, there wasn’t enough patience to calmly handle the situation. «Can we talk?» #

You sat across each other. You weren’t there. It was hard to explain, but you felt some kind of comfort in being surrounded by silence despite a crowd of people going back and forth as little ants. Despite Sebastian sitting in front of you, sternly staring at you. There was tension; composure, studying of movements, distance. And it magically dissipated, as Sebastian’s sigh erased the wall of unsaid words dividing you. «I’m sorry for treating you badly last time.» you casually said, not daring to cross eyes. A pause. You quietly reasoned which words to use next, although Sebastian prevented it by breaking his iced silence. «You don’t need to apologize. I could see something troubled you, and I’m pretty sure it still does.» He was met with an unmutated expression. «You can talk to me, if you need it. Whatever it is, I’ll try to help you.» Yet another shower of silence. He then insistently searched for your eyes. «You don’t have to pretend you’re fine with all the media pressure. I’ve been there before, and I’ve learned how to deal with it.» «That’s not the problem.» you said, reluctant, diverting gaze. «Okay. Then what is it?» he persisted. Yeah. What was it? The press asking you about your private matters or them hinting at a romance affair which was non-existent, to your dismay? Was it the fact that you wished it was real and actually had to hide something, instead of fighting feelings you desperately tried to conceal and repress in front of anybody, Max and you included? «Or I’d better ask… Who is it?» Sebastian’s words had you like a deer caught in the headlights. «Guess Max is still the deal, right?» he inquired again, leaning his elbows onto the coffee table. «Yeah.» you hummed, mostly to yourself. «Do you like him?» Seb slightly smiled at it. «I don’t know. I mean, I think so, but- It’s probably just me, it’s not worth ruining our relationship.» you rambled. «Who said you are going to ruin the relationship?» Seeing Sebastian put a skeptical face, you swam in your own insecurities: the amount of paranoia you’ve been dealing with in a week made your head hurt, and for a second the clouds darkening your mind got away thanks to Seb’s light of reason. You would reflect upon it in another moment, though: the weekend already seemed difficult even after putting aside your emotions, and you clearly weren’t in a position to gamble. «I can’t afford to lose him.» you then stated, staring at the sky still lost in thought. «Trust me, Max won’t let go of you that easily. He really enjoys your company, you’ve got nothing to fear.» Sebastian smiled. You tried to do the same, but you told yourself you would’ve liked to be as confident as he was.

Max didn’t like losing. Not that hard to figure out, some would say. But it was a trait which he kept also off the track; there was something so confident and assertive in the way he would speak his mind, express his opinion, a sort of determination stemming from dead-certainty and belief. And Max had just conquered a small win, after all. You weren’t allowed to enter the Red Bull garage, but he had managed to convince Christian Horner to let you stay in the hospitality. «But I don’t want her to be here tomorrow and on Sunday, understood?» Christian asked, making sure Max wouldn’t take advantage of it. Max nodded, despite not being fully satisfied yet; after texting you to come over and seeing you enter the hospitality, though, a bright smile immediately spread over his lips, as he immediately searched Alice’s eyes to catch her reaction and enjoy it. She crossed her arms and simply walked away, visibly annoyed. At the same time, Max saw you getting closer with a cheerful appearance: without even thinking twice, his arms were ready to welcome you in a hug. «Thank you.» you murmured as you parted. Looking at you, Max couldn’t restrain a thought: winning had never tasted so sweet. #

«So many corrections, right?» «Yeah… I lost the count of all the times I was about to hit the wall!» Max and Charles having a little debrief after the first sessions of free practice was an established tradition no one ever really complained about. The two of them were walking inside the paddock, heading towards the hospitalities, and the discussion gradually shifted from track conditions to simply catching up with each other. Charles was quick to notice way more cameras than usual were pointing at them; he hadn’t really paid attention to the rumors, so he felt naturally weirded out by the sudden interest. «Is it just me or is everybody following us?» the Monegasque lightly chuckled. «Yeah, seems like it.» Max brushed off. «Did I do something?» Charles asked, utterly oblivious to the situation. «No, they’re here for me, don’t worry.» They stopped a couple meters before Red Bull’s entrance, but before splitting, Max stepped in. «I still haven’t apologized for how I treated you the morning after Zandvoort. So, uhm, I’m sorry.» Charles squinted, thinking hard, then let out a “Ah!” after successfully remembering the situation. «Don’t worry, I noticed there was tension between you and y/n. It’s fine.» As Charles added a smile to the sentence, a laughing filled the air and made the two drivers turn their heads: they saw you getting out of the hospitality playing and laughing with Sergio’s wife and, in particular, with her children. You had spent time with them and watched free practice together, and now that it was time to say goodbye. Exiting the door, you immediately perceived stares on you and couldn’t help but cross them. As you and Max made eye contact, a spontaneous and traitor smile appeared onto your lips, making Charles slightly spying on Max’s expression to observe his reaction. Acknowledging the newly relaxed atmosphere between the two of you, he didn’t miss the opportunity to tease him a little. «Did she already recover?» «Yes, almost fully.» Max answered, as they saw you discretely blow your nose. «She’s doing a lot better.» «And you’re both doing better, I see.» Max was about to look at him and reply, tell him off or something, but he wasn’t able to divert gaze as you gently tousled Sergio’s son’s hair, a fond and amused look in your smiling eyes. Charles’ goodbye reached his ears delayed, and Max got lost staring at you, in awe, his heart twisting in affection.

On Saturday, things didn’t get better. Max had texted you to ask if you’d like to have breakfast with him outside of the paddock before the third session of free practice, so that the team couldn’t have anything to scold him for. You had gladly accepted. You dressed up, combed your hair and pulled the door behind you as you got out; inside the lift, you felt a light comfort since you were about to spend some time with Max again. But no, things weren’t supposed to get better. In fact, as you tried to get out of the hotel, you were stopped by the presence of a bunch of journalists waiting outside the hall glass door. Do they care that much about me?, you wondered. You stood still, hands closed into cold-sweat fists, unable to take a decision. A voice inside of you told you not to pay attention to those jerks and to fiercely make your way past their ignorance; silence would kill their loudness. However, there was a gut feeling you couldn’t ignore, pleading you not to enter the lions’ den, because you simply wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. Paralyzed by fear, you retraced your steps.

Pushed the door, took your shoes off and passed a hand through your hair, breathing deep. There was nothing to freak out about. You got closer to the window and peeked down the street: they were still there. That’s normal, you thought, they were there a few minutes ago. You swallowed. You noticed your mouth had gone dry. Was it dry when you woke up? You couldn’t tell. Swallowing multiple times, you realized it still hurt a little bit. Did it hurt when you woke up? You couldn’t tell. You quickly took your phone out and texted Max. “sorry, I don’t feel good, I’m not coming” Had you just made up an excuse so that you didn’t have to show up? You couldn’t tell. You sent the text, then threw the phone onto the covers in distress. You peeked down the pavement once more: they were still there. Nothing to freak out about. You picked up your phone from the bed once again and did something you had never done, something you shouldn’t have, but that your irrationality reckoned as a good idea. Scrolling social medias to read what they had said about you. To your surprise, you found several debatable Instagram pages which posted stolen shots of you and Max. The most frequent attribute either one of you was given was “traitor”, oftentimes written in full capital letter onto your faces. The real cruelty, though, was stored in the comments section.

No need to freak out.

You run back to the window, your breaths picking up the pace as you noticed they were still there, still fucking waiting for you in order to assault you like a prey. You shut down the blinds, closing off the rising sun’s beams, drowning in the darkness. The phone, which you had let fall back onto the bed again without noticing, vibrated with a muffled sound. “Thought you were doing better…?” Knees gradually gave in under your shaky body, crawling on the floor with your back against the wall. “I thought that too”, you slowly typed. In that moment, your throat tickled and made you cough so hard you hoped to spit out the anguish’s knot in your stomach, emptying your body from the very bottom and finally getting rid of that discomfort. Before you had time to process it, coughs turned into sobs and a few ugly tears hid around your eyes, making your skin sting and burn. #

Sick. «What’s that pout, Max?» You had got better so fast, you’d had no problem for days… How come you were sick again? To be fair, Max easily guessed illness had nothing to do with it. «No, nothing.» Something was up yet another time. He knew you would avoid in any possible way further exposure, minimize the risk of being caught together and troubling the both of you. And this drove him mad. He couldn’t care less about other people’s opinions: he’d always had to fight against prejudices and poor thinkers, sailing the sea throughout major shitstorms, and he had learned how to handle the pressure from a very young age. He was used to it. But you weren’t. And he was aware. Though, he wished you would stop being so conditioned and influenced by other people. «Then put your helmet on, it’s almost time to go.» Lambiase’s voice brought him into the present, awakening the sounds of fervent mechanics bent over the car, the noise which had made him zone out in the first place. #

Vox media. A vox media is a word that has a neutral meaning per se, but can carry both a good and a bad one; it’s like a medal, with its two faces, both brought into the table whenever the term is mentioned. It’s funny how the chances of getting the wrong message it’s almost non-existent… Well, the context usually clarifies it. There are words that can only have good or a bad meaning in a specific situation. And as a driver, in the middle of your last flying lap of the last session, knowing the checkered flag is getting closer and closer and so is the adrenaline for a conquered pole position, taking all the possible risks you can in a street circuit, searching for grip in every single centimeter of asphalt, there’s probably only one thing you don’t want to be told. «Box, Max! Box, box, box!» «Why? What the… why?» A stab amidst the chest. This is what those words felt like for Max, leaving him breathless for a second, as his focus broke and fury took its place. «What the fuck!? What the fuck! What are you guys saying?!» They left him yelling in frustration on his own, keeping silent; but Max needed answers. «I don’t get it, what the fuck is this about?» «I’ll explain once you’re out, Max.»

As Max parked the car for the FIA to check it, his eyes flicked to the side: flashes got his attention, and a group of cameramen run towards Red Bull’s pit wall to picture their failure. And it was in that moment he finally realized how all the pressure the media had kept on the team had pushed the system to crumble like a house of cards, making them get stuff wrong with his car and preventing him from delivering as he was about to do. Did he really wanted to be filled up with crap excuses for their mistake? No. He had obliged to whatever they had instructed him to say in interviews about the cost cap, and they had thought banning you from the paddock would solve their problems. It clearly hadn’t. Max got out of the car and removed his helmet in a hurry: GP tried to hold him back, to no avail. He had already gone past him, not sparing a glance.

Max marched towards the hotel. The sweat clung onto his skin like a suffocating veil, and his frustrated rage certainly didn’t help getting rid of it. He passed the back of his hand on the forehead. He was on the edge. All because of the team fucking up his qualifying, the team who was in everybody’s mouth for the cost cap scandal, the team who had decided to get you away from him for PR reasons. His mind was filled up with racing thoughts, but one thing was extremely clear: he was fed up with all of it. There wasn’t any tolerability left; he would’ve stripped himself naked and run to you undressed, if that would get those paparazzi and “journalists” out of the way. Out of his way, out of yours.

Entering the building, the receptionist didn’t even manage to address him with practiced polite words, since Max simply sped right past him, thinking his racing suit would serve as a sufficient introduction.

He knocked onto your door with such a force you jumped, startled, still sitting in front of the tv in shock for the mishap. When you opened to him, your shock grew even bigger. Max didn’t give you time to react and stormed into the room as soon as there was enough space for him to sneak inside. You turned and followed his restless pacing back and forth, mouth still agape for the surprise. «Max, what happened?» you tried to ask, but the words came out with a shaky voice. «No fuel.» he replied, closing off the blinds to unwanted attention. «I… I’m so sorry… But I’m sure you’ll have the pace tomorrow! And- and there might be a safety car! Anything can happen during the race…» Rummaging through your mind in search of words of comfort, you stared at Max, who was giving you his back. He nervously passed a hand through his hair, as his chest started rising and falling quite fast. Why did he get there? It wasn’t your fault, and neither could you turn back time or change the situation. What was he searching for? What did he expect, what did he want from you? In a fraction of second, Max turned around and he immediately got the answer. You felt your wrist been pulled, while your bodies crashed together onto each other, molding together, melting, clinging. You could hear and feel onto your skin his hot, heavy and shortened breaths, as Max’s face nestled against the crook of your neck. It was so quick you didn’t see it coming; it was so natural you didn’t even try to avoid it. Because it simply felt appropriate and right to let Max loosen the embrace enough to stare at you and then quickly closing the gap, leaning in for a kiss. Hands full of your skin and lips dancing heatedly onto yours, Max understood: this was what he came there for. He hadn’t been able to resist without you, especially after the pressure he had withstood. He had needed you so bad. You couldn’t rewind time and prevent mistakes from happening, of course; but there was a lot you were able to do by simply standing on his side, smiling, encouraging him and checking up on him, things he had terribly missed. He just couldn’t stand the idea of you watching him from a screen, miserable, not even daring to put foot into the paddock in fear of people halting you and asking you inappropriate, nosey questions. And as his hands firmly held your head, perceiving the skin underneath them emanating warmth acted as a foot stomping on full throttle: suddenly, he needed to feel your body even closer, despite your faint attempt to regain breathing space gently pushing on his chest, and his tongue asked for permission to deepen the kiss, slowing down the rhythm only to make it more intense. Max had lost control since jumping out of the car, but he hadn’t realized; and even after running to you with his suit still on, ignoring every person around him, knocking on your door and kissing you out of the blue, then getting all worked up, no, he still hadn’t managed to notice. But your hands, still pressed down onto his chest, eventually splitting you apart… Yes, they were the ones to break the spell. The bitter cold that hit him as your body got away from his hold felt like a slap straight to the cheek. He sobered up, all at once, unable to speak or say anything now aware of his actions. On the other hand, you didn’t even know what had pushed you to move away: in fact, a part of you immediately regretted it. Out of breath, you vainly tried to come up with an explanation, some sort of defense, and quickly acknowledged your guards had completely fallen apart as soon as Max had crossed the threshold. «I didn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.» Max said, clearing his throat, visibly embarrassed. «No, Max, I…» You what? You didn’t know, you couldn’t state it openly; was it a problem telling him or admitting it to yourself? Was it his unreadable expression making your hands clammy? Or was it him walking away defeated and disappearing as quickly as he had into the room? #

You tossed and turned under the covers, willing yet unable to find peace of mind: Max’s touch still lingered onto you, pervaded your senses and couldn’t brush him off your thoughts. You wished you had stopped him from leaving you in such a confused state; in fact, you wished you hadn’t stopped him at all in the first place. That kiss had felt like heaven: unexpected, unplanned, sudden, so that your heart sank into your chest; urgent and needy, as you were, even after not seeing each other for less than twenty-four hours; casted with tenderness, because it had stemmed from a comforting embrace; burning of desire, incomparably more passionate than whatever you had been able to imagine in your dreams after the party. Had it been another dream? Did you fall and hit your head? You sat straight up and pinched your cheek, scared to be living a lucid, feverish fantasy. It stinged. It was real. You crushed back again onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling and sighing. He had kissed you first. He had run to you, crossed the darkness of the night with his hair still sweaty only to kiss you and walk away. You wanted to torture yourself with how it wasn’t possible for you to love each other, but the only thing you could wonder with a smile written on the heart was whether Max had enjoyed it as much as you did. Above all the pictures journalists could’ve taken, opposed to the previous occasions, you told yourself you would’ve liked having been caught this time. Just to have a proof for your unreasoned happiness.

After unsuccessfully attempting at falling asleep, you had sent a text to Charles, asking him if they could have you inside the garage for the race. There was no way you would manage to lock yourself into the room, staring at the tv and watching Max doing everything he could to win the race and, possibly, the championship as well. Charles, a born gentleman, said yes despite being conscious of the extra spotlight the team would have to face.

You were surprised – and pleased – to see that nobody was waiting for you out of the hotel; strange, you thought, but people had probably got bored and tired of standing, and they decided not to harass you on Sunday. How kind of them.

Sitting with headphones in your hands, you watched the rain fall, mindlessly fidgeting with the wire. «Here you are, the star of the moment!» Charles chirped, taking a seat right next to you. «Y/n, an interview, please!» said Carlos, mocking one of the pleading journalists he had saved you from on Friday. You threw an annoyed glance at both. «I can still leave.» you threatened with a smile. «Oh, but you won’t.» Carlos confidently said, putting a pair of sunglasses on. Charles, amazed, eyed his teammate. «Carlos, you’re such a fashion icon!» «Tell me something I don’t know yet.» the Spaniard boldly replied. «Uhm… It’s raining and you don’t need sunglasses?» you asked, skeptical. Carlos let out a sigh in fake annoyance. «These aren’t for the sun.» he indicated them. «It’s a filter for all the bullshit you’re going to feed us with after we’ve asked you what we want to ask you right now.» He then turned towards Charles, who stared at him trying to telepathically read into Carlos’ head. «What… what was the question?» he whispered, still looking intensely at him. Carlos, flipping his head towards you, bore his eyes – well, definitely his sunglasses – at you with a knowing smirk. «Y/n.» «Yes…?» «I’m not getting in the car if-» «He’s not getting in the car!» Charles repeated after him, impressed. «Yes. I’m not getting in the car unless you tell me what the heck is going down between you and Max Emilian Verstappen.» Silence filled the air, as Carlos nodded in gloating and Charles shook his hand uttering a “Such a good question, mate”. After the little scene, they both turned to you at the same time. «So?» Carlos urged. «I… I don’t know what you want me to say!» you said, embarrassed. «Well, you could start with explaining what you were doing last night in the same room.» «How do you kno-» «Someone from the Ferrari stuff was down the corridor and saw you opening the door to him.» Charles confessed. Still a little bit mad about your privacy being violated, or better, about your vulnerability being exposed, Carlos pressed you even further. «Don’t you trust us? Charles, y/n doesn’t trust us.» he said, sad and offended.

You deeply inhaled, desperately trying to master the courage and tell them so that you could be over with it, but words died before you would even shape them. Charles, noticing how difficult it was for you, had an idea. «Carlos, why don’t we take a guess? And whoever loses, must stay five seconds under the rain?» «And the winner?» «The winner… The winner wins a hot chocolate!» Charles said, his eyes searching for confirm in yours. «Fine.» you breathed out. «Okay, I go first.» Carlos eagerly said, sitting on the edge of the seat. «You… you cuddled onto the bed!» «How sweet!» Charles chuckled. You shook your head, in denial, whispering “No, I’m sorry.” It was Charles’ turn, now; he leaned forward, forearms onto his laps, trying to read your eyes. Uneasy, your pupils flicked right and left in search of relief. «You kissed.» As he spoke those two words, a sudden cloud of warmth burned your limbs, awakening them from their sleep: your heart beat faster, your lips slightly parted in surprise and a pink flush tinted your cheeks. «You kissed!» Carlos yelled, jumping onto the seat, as if everything had become clear. Unable to sustain their astonished expression, you looked down. «It’s not something to be ashamed of.» Charles immediately tried to lift off your embarrassment. «It’s all wrong… I mean, all of this, we shouldn’t-» You stopped talking as you felt a hand touch your shoulder: it was Carlos, this time addressing you with a serious face. «Did you like it?» «Carlos…» «Did you like it, y/n?» «Yes, I did.» you whispered.

Feeling small in your chair, you hid the palms of your hand under your laps, still self-conscious. «I don’t know if he liked it…» «Bet he was the one to go for it.» Charles quickly jumped in. Yes, he had been. And the mere idea confused you even more, made your heart flatter and do somersaults inside your chest. «…But even if he did, we can’t go out or something, with all the hate we’re receiving. The team would never allow it.» «Y/n, listen.» Carlos began, addressing you. «After a qualifying session like the one he had yesterday, no driver would’ve crossed the city to leave a meaningless peck on a friend’s lips. He likes you and you like him, so there’s no need to overcomplicate things because of your fears when it is that simple.» «It scares me.» you whispered, still deep in thought. «I’ve got so much to lose…» Charles softly smiled, then cleared his throat to gain your full attention. «Imagine to be an f1 driver in qualifying: it’s Q3 and you just have one shot to set the pole. There isn’t time to be careful or afraid, you must send it, even if it means you have to take risks.» «Yeah, you gotta send it!» Carlos said, in excitement. «You get nothing for nothing, y/n.» «Guys, I’m not a racing driver.» you laughed. «But you’re going to be together with one of the best out there, so you need to gain some courage!» Charles, not satisfied with the discourage written over your face, tried to persuade you a bit more. «You will probably confront about it pretty soon anyway, and I think you should tell him how you feel. If you don’t, you would both miss out on an amazing relationship.» Uncapable of sustaining the serious atmosphere for so long, Carlos broke the short silence that followed Charles’ words. «Nah, would they really? I don’t think Max deserves it.» Saying so, Carlos took his glasses off and put them back into the pocket. «I’m getting emotional… Our little y/n has grown up so much, Charles…» he turned to him, «She’s about to have a boy now.» «And what a boy, Carlos!» the Monegasque chuckled. The three of you shared a laugh; as you watched them jokingly bicker, you couldn’t help but think you were lucky to have such amazing people to support you, despite them being famous and busy any time of year. Charles, feeling your eyes onto him, stared at you with a brow raised, as you seemed about to say something. «Thank you.» You both smiled at each other. «Oh, don’t thank me, y/n. You owe me a hot chocolate, after all.» Charles said, «And you have to go under the rain, Carlos.» «No, I don’t! It’s not fair!» he protested. «You gotta send it, Carlos!» you told him, Charles laughing uncontrollably at your joke. «You’re lucky I’m a gentleman.» he replied, raising his pointer finger at the two of you.

No one was surprised to find a tensed atmosphere around Red Bull’s staff. People had tried to dig deeper into the cost cap story to see things clearer, pointing at the team and angrily accusing them of cheating “once again”. Max let it all rain down, wash the frustration away from him and erase the grip from the track at once. His mind was somewhere else. He couldn’t make sense of his escapade; he had overstepped any boundary and completely disregarded any resolution he had set for himself. The “fine line” has been crossed and there was no making up for it. «Like the rain?» Max peeked over his shoulder and saw Daniel approaching. «It’s relaxing.» he then answered. The Aussie nodded and stared intensely at him, then looked out the window as Max did. «Do you remember the morning after the party?» Daniel abruptly asked. «In the kitchen?» «Yes.» «Uhm, yeah, there was Carlos as well.» Max recalled. «Right.» he paused a few seconds before carrying on. «Before you got up, I talked with him a bit and he told me a few things about y/n.» Daniel knew he had perked Max’s interest as he felt a pair of eyes watching attentively, and couldn’t stop a grin. Max, thrown off by his behavior, sighed annoyed. «If you’re joking, this isn’t funny.» «I’m not.» Daniel replied. «Carlos said y/n was freaking out because she’d had some kind of dream about you two but couldn’t tell whether it was some blurred memory or her subconscious messing with her in hangover.» «What was the dream about?» Max found himself whisper. «I don’t remember exactly. But you can ask her.» Daniel, pleased by his reaction, looked at him. «Carlos told me y/n likes you.» Those words sent electricity through his fingertips and awoke his heart, which beat faster: Max felt caught by feelings he couldn’t control nor understand, and they took over him to the point he couldn’t stop himself from releasing them. «Dan, I kissed her.» Max blurted out, confessing. Daniel goggled at him. «At the party?» he asked, surprised. «No, yesterday. After qualifying.» Silence. Max scratched his neck, nervous, itching everywhere, the same electricity travelling onto his skin. «Dan, I don’t know why I did it, and… and I don’t know what to do, because at first she seemed to be okay with it but then she pushed me away! I have no idea what’s going on…» Daniel flicked his eyes to the side before inching closer to him, so that nobody else could hear what he was about to say. «Max, I know you’ve just broken up with Kelly and that it might be too soon to say, but have you, like… considered you could’ve fallen in love with y/n?» The dam of his heart’s lake fell apart and a waterfall of emotions poured down as the rain did outside the window. Needless to say, Max’s awareness of his feelings for you hid under the thick layer of unconscious knowledge, and being exposed to it upset him greatly. «Guys, it’s time to race!» they heard someone say, probably some engineer from Red Bull or McLaren passing by. «It’s showtime.» Daniel said, nudging Max.

You watched the race from the Ferrari garage, once again, and it was even more nerve-wracking than usual, as yellow flags followed one another. Your eyes were vaguely paying attention to the images onto the screen, but your heart was constantly searching for Max’s position, and when a massive lock-up brought him in a run-off area and forced the team to pit, you were caught by an indescribable sadness, since the championship title was inevitably postponed.

Walking down the pitlane, hiding yourself from indiscreet eyes with some of the Ferrari merch Charles had given you as a camouflage, you saw an orange suit waving towards you. «Daniel! Congratulations for p5!» you said, grinning at him. «Oh, thanks.» he replied, a bit absentmindedly. His answer left you a bit dumbfounded: after such a good result for the team – with Lando in p4 – and for himself as well, you expected to see a glimpse of happiness in him. Then you reasoned he had just got out of the car, drenched in sweat and physically worn out. «Are you okay? Do you need some water?» you asked, not able to read his expression, eyes gazing far behind you. In fact, Daniel was tired, but his poor reaction was due to focus: he was searching for someone down the pitlane, and that person was Max. The Dutch had asked him to detain you in the middle of the post-race crowd so that he could confront you and talk to you without leaving the track (as the team had ordered him, after the latest events).

Max had run to the weighing to be one of the first drivers on queue and had jogged back to the garage to drop the helmet; he was so impatient to reach you, despite not being sure of what to tell you exactly. Maybe he simply wanted to see you and have you close. Easily getting rid of his PR assistant – since she was too caught up speaking with Sergios’ – and lowering the cap’s visor in hope of going unnoticed, he fiercely walked with eyes scanning left and right, and when he finally spotted the two of you, every step was lighter, as he felt closer to finally break free and disclose his hidden feelings. «Max!» Or maybe… not yet. «Max, stop!» Alice’s voice halted his wide strides; Max turned around, livid, and he would’ve lashed out at her if only he hadn’t seen the worry covering her face. «Take a look here!» she said, handing him the phone.

What's wrong with this instagram story, you ask? Oh, nothing. Simply sets up half of the drama planned out for next chapter. (I can't believe next chapter could be the last one, don't wake me 'cause I don't wanna leave this dream)

AS PER USUAL, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! ♥ I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

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