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traveler-at-heart · 16 hours ago

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Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying�� you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

��Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her. “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?” she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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checkeredflagggs · 19 hours ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 10 (ALT 10): Feeding Tube

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

Masterlist | Taglist

liked by user, user, user, and 1,274,294 others

tagged: y/n_rb, pierregasly

f1: With the final race of the season underway, there is still no new news of L/N or Gasly who have been removed from the track via Medical Cars after their disastrous crash on the opening lap

view all comments

user1: well that’s one way to frame it

user2: I feel bad for the other drivers…

↳user3: oh same

user4: their radios are still full of them asking for updates

↳user5: most of them have taken to just giving their drivers the “no updates yet” update every couple of minutes anyway

↳user6: I wonder if it’s true there’s no update or if that’s just the official line being given

user7: apparently Logan Sargeant was seen rushing to Miami’s airport soon after the crash was announced

↳user8: while that’s sweet, I don’t like the implications of it

↳user9: right? Like why the rush sir? What do you know that we don’t?

Bluesky

user10: how on earth does a gossip page know this?

↳user11: frankly if this is the only way to get information I’ll take it

user12: i mean obviously they were taken to the hospital

↳user13: i just think people want to know why we’re getting more information from a gossip page then from the official f1 sites…

user14: surgery??? It was bad enough that they needed surgery??

↳user15: I’m not exactly shocked — there’s video of the crash on YouTube already and it was so bad

↳user14: it’s on YouTube???

↳user15: it’s up and down — people keep uploading it and YouTube keeps taking it down…

user16: prayers for them both

user17: f1gossip I’m gonna need you to keep doing the good work and continue with the updates

↳f1gossip: 🫡

Bluesky

user18: jesus…

↳user20: I’m just…shocked

user21: who the fuck is spilling the beans like this??

↳user22: someone who’s gonna be fired I’m guessing…

↳user23: oh absolutely

user24: it’s bad enough she needs a feeding tube?? They were conscious when they left the track???

↳user25: that’s what’s confusing me too…like there’s definitely proof that they were talking to each other when they were being wheeled off the track???

↳user24: right??? Like it definitely looked liked y/n was yelling at Pierre!

↳user25: I’m hopeful that it’s just baseless rumors…

logansargeant: yo what the fuck is this??

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @yawn-zi @jessica3478

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softtdaisy · 2 days ago

Note

injury prompt 16 and 22 for reid perhaps... :D Love your writing btw <3

make my heart beat again / spencer reid

summary. spencer was sad. spencer was miserable. he thought he could handle it until he couldn't anymore. he thought he could deal with it alone until he couldn't.

words count. 2 249

prompt. “Why won’t you let me help you?” “…because I don’t deserve it.” / “You deserve to be helped, I—who told you this?” from here

what to expect. very angsty, spencer is so sad i want to hug him, i chose the mentally injured more than physically, mention of murder very quickly

a/n. ok first thank you so much for requesting it sweetie!! and i'm sorry, i wish i posted it sooner but i started it again to make it shorter and...it's not shorter, but it's here and i hope you will love it (and now i can work on your other request) 🫶

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

You weren’t quite sure how everything started again with Spencer.

One day he was a memory of the past, one of your biggest regrets. The next time he was back in your place, like he always belonged there.

You went on a couple of dates a few years ago, and it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t fall for that boy. Sweet, gentle, the nicest man you’ve ever met. And so beautiful with his always so messy hair, his gorgeous brown eyes that always seemed to look at you like you were one of the seven wonders of the world, and that perfectly shaped mouth that you loved to kiss.

You were sure things could have worked out with Spencer if a) his work didn’t take him that much time—and more. b) You didn’t have other issues in your life you had to deal with before thinking about love.

So you ended your relationship, or whatever it was at that time, before it could be more serious. And you spent way too many nights missing Spencer Reid.

The way he would start every date with a fact that could either last a minute or ten and how you could notice the change in his eyes when he noticed you were truly interested in what he was saying. How he was blushing at any physical contact you were initiating, even in bed after he made love to you. Or even how you never said you loved each other, yet the way his lips would stay longer on your shoulder when you were falling asleep was speaking for your feelings.

You never thought Spencer would miss you just as much.

But he spent months contemplating the idea of seeing you again and trying to convince you this could be good. That he could be good for you. But months turned into a year. And when he celebrated his whole single year on the other side of the country, Spencer read into it that maybe he had glorified love. In all its aspects.

And this conclusion haunted him for years.

To the point Spencer stopped meeting new people and was barely trying to stay in touch with those in his life. He wasn’t seeing his mom much; his colleagues noticed the distance he was building between them, and Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he saw his “friends.”

Because at some point, the fear of losing people turned into a feeling of not being good enough to people’s lives and made him a loner. A sad loner.

That was something you immediately noticed the first time you saw Spencer in years.

Your life has barely changed from your last date. Still the same job, but at a higher place. Still the same apartment, but with a different setting. Still the same person, but more mature.

It wasn’t hard for Spencer to find you. And if he spent a whole year contemplating going back to your place before putting that thought away, the day he truly needed it, it took him a minute to decide it was time.

You didn’t question his presence here when you opened the door. Maybe he should have. But when Spencer grabbed your face after you simply said his name with confusion, nothing seemed to matter.

Not his hair longer than before, not him looking more shaped yet more fragile, not the circle under his eyes being way darker than the last time you saw him. Not that he was eagerly kissing you, something he never did.

You remember Spencer being gentle, taking his time to appreciate every second with you.

No, he was hungry, like each second could be the last with you. For him.

“What are you doing here, Spence?” you finally asked him. You were both lying on the rug in your living room. His eyes were locked on the roof, like he was disconnecting from reality. His arm around your back, holding you against him, was brushing your skin slowly, but he seemed to do that mindlessly.

And Spencer didn’t turn his head to look at you when you, you couldn’t stop looking at him. “I needed that.” Not you. You put away the pain hearing that and tried to see the good in this, that you were the one he went to.

But still, something was different with Spencer.

It would take you a few nights to realize he wasn’t blushing anymore when you touched him. Or that he didn’t seem to have a lot to talk about.

Actually, Spencer wasn’t talking much anymore.

For weeks, Spencer would come to your place at night. Either after a day at the office or when he came back from a case. Usually, when it was the latter, he would even stay the following day to fully decompress from what happened.

You tried to question him once or twice. But Spencer always had the same answer: going down on you to keep you quiet with your question.

It was a win-win situation.

He was giving you pleasure and making you think about something else.

He was concentrating on something else, and your moans were filling his head with other thoughts.

Until one night, the sex wasn’t enough to put his problem away.

You didn’t expect Spencer to come. Two days ago, he told you he had to leave for a case and it would probably last a week. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it gave you the time to think about him and where this was going.

Yet, your bell rang at 10 p.m. Let’s say that dating an FBI agent taught you to not open your door to anybody. You almost played dead and ignored it. But your gut told you to look at who it might be.

You didn’t expect to see Spencer through your spyhole.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him cry on the other side of your door.

“Spencer, what’s going on?” you said, opening your door and immediately bringing him inside. The saddest part was that he let you do it. He didn’t stop you when you took him in your arms. Neither when you brought him to the sofa and sat him on it while you kneeled in front of him.

He was shaking; his face looked red from the tears and the scratching he did with his fingers, trying to take the pain away. But it didn’t work. And hurt him even more.

You grabbed one of his hands to take it away from his face. You tried to ease his joints with a soft caress. You even tried to make eye contact, but it was a lost cause with the way he was closing his eyes hardly, probably hurting himself like that. “Talk to me, Spence,” you whispered, putting your chin on his knee. “Open to me.”

You hated how he pinched his lips together before talking, like he was trying so hard to not break down. “I can’t,” he sobbed. He repeated that multiple times, sounding more angry with himself each time.

But the fact he wasn’t letting go of your hand made you believe that maybe a part of him, maybe just a very little one, wanted to have you. He still came to you tonight, right?

“Why won’t you let me help you?”

This was a genuine question. One that grew over the last weeks. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night wondering which signs you might have missed when he was here. What did he try to hide from you with kisses and attention that you weren’t asking for? And if maybe you weren’t an accomplice of his troubles by accepting all his treats, knowing it was an excuse to keep everything from himself.

And during these moments, you imagined what Spencer might have answered. That he didn’t want his burden to impact your relationship, that he didn’t want to talk to you specifically.

But you never considered what was coming as an answer.

“…because I don’t deserve it.”

The world went silent.

Except for your heart that just fell on the floor and broke into a million pieces.

Except for Spencer’s sorrow being louder than ever in your small living room.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t doing ok. But you couldn’t imagine how broken he really was.

You couldn’t force him to look at you and make him see he wasn’t alone at all. So you put your forehead against his, his sweaty hair sticking against your skin. Your arms wrapped against Spencer so you could hold him against him. You couldn’t believe that this grown-up man, in his thirty, could be a broken kid inside. You tried to hold back the tears.

You stayed like that for minutes; you don’t even know how long. This could last an hour or two if he needed to. You probably could have stayed all night if it meant calming Spencer down.

Little by little, you felt his shaking stop and even one of his hands land on your arm. The pressure of his fingers on your skin wasn’t harder, almost like he didn’t have any strength anymore. It was more like a delicate touch. One that reminded you of the old days, when Spencer was too shy to touch you.

Once you felt he was ready to hear this, maybe not listen yet but at least be able to understand what you were saying, you stopped hugging him so you could grab his face in your hands. “You deserve to be helped. I—who told you this?”

You met the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen at this moment. Couple with his sad smile. Oh, how you wished you could just kiss the pain away for once.

“I just…” he started, with a grazed, hoarse voice. “Every person in my life ends up sad or hurt or dead. I’m a problem. I’m a burden. I don’t deserve someone to take the time to help me, be there for me. I can’t risk someone, you, taking the time to make me feel better if it means losing you at some point. I can’t, I can’t do that again.” You heard the sob in his voice at the end.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Spencer gave you the look, one he strangely never gave to you but that you understood immediately, meaning that he still had a lot to say. And deep down, you were happy to shut it if it meant he was finally opening up.

“I was taking care of a kid these days. We knew he might be in danger, so I was supposed to make sure he would be fine while working the case.” Spencer took a moment to continue, but you could only focus on the tear running down his cheek. “He got killed. Because I couldn’t protect him. Everyone around me has something bad happening to them. Even in my job. How can I be such a bad person?”

You started brushing away the tears with your thumb, but Spencer cuddled against your hand. There was something even sadder with this man feeling like he didn’t deserve to have someone yet still craving every attention he could get.

“You’re not a burden, Spencer,” you whispered, and he closed his eyes again. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to go through all these moments by yourself. I can’t imagine how hurt you must be from living such difficult times over and over again. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have someone by your side.”

He didn’t answer. You weren’t sure this was the best decision, but you sat on his knees, trying to be closer to him so you could make him feel less alone.

You thought that if he didn’t want that, he would push you away. But the way Spencer's hands ended up on your back so quickly made you think that maybe he needed that too.

“I can’t and won’t force myself into your life, Spencer, never,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. “But if you’re ready to try, I can be by your side and help you consider that you deserve to be a supporter. Not only by me but by all the people that love you.”

Again, your words working on him, Spencer opened his eyes slowly. This time, even if the sorrow was still present, there was the smallest and almost slightest light in them. “Because people love you, Spencer Reid.”

As an answer, the only one he could give you, Spencer brought you against him and hugged you as hard as he could. It wasn’t the tightest hug he ever gave, but it was the best he could do. And it was enough. Enough to know that you opened a door in his mind.

You offered your bed to Spencer that night, but he insisted on you staying by your side. He refused to let you know it was due to the fear of the nightmares he had for months now. Nightmares that always had different stories but ended the same way: with him losing someone and being alone.

All he needed was you, and you were willing to give yourself entirely to help him get better.

You didn’t know if you imagined it, but you were sure that when he was falling asleep, holding you against him like an antistress comforter, Spencer thanked you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #Matthew Gray Gubler #Matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #Matthew gray gubler x you #Matthew gray gubler x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds story #msg #mgg x reader #my writing

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willowsnook · 6 hours ago

Text

an experiment pt. 3

lando norris x reporter!reader

a/n: 😈

pt. 1, pt. 2

tags: @sarx164 @wildflowerrsszz, @jaematthews15, @opastries81 @armystay89 @hadesnumber1daughter @dying-inside-but-its-classy @chlmtfilms @freyathehuntress @ashley-k @charlesgirl16 @widow-cevans @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @majapapaya4 @fullmugwolffish

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N: ABSOLUTELY NOT LN: non-refundable, sorry. See you tomorrow

You threw your phone across the room, furious. Hadn’t he done enough? You had your resignation letter typed out, for god’s sake. Begrudgingly, you moved across the room to find your phone, calling your best friend.

“What’s up?” David asked.

“Lando Norris is coming to Austin to see me,” you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Wait, why?” David questioned. You could hear his confusion over the phone.

“I don’t know, he posted that thing on Insta and then texted me that he bought a flight,” you complained.

David snorted, "He posted that thing and then immediately bought a flight? Sounds like someone's feeling guilty," David said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed. "I don't care if he feels guilty. I don't want to see him."

"You sure about that?" David asked skeptically. "Because it seems like you two have some unresolved tension."

"The only tension we have is me wanting to strangle him," you muttered.

David laughed. "Right, because that's totally normal behavior between two people who hate each other."

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "What am I supposed to do? He's just going to show up here."

"Well, you could always not be there when he arrives," David suggested. "Or you could hear him out. Maybe he genuinely wants to apologize.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” you complained to him and you heard him laugh in response.

“I’m always on your side, but let’s just say that Carlos isn’t the only one betting on when you two will get together.”

Instead of answering you hung up, not interested in hearing what he had to say anymore. You groaned before pulling yourself off your bed to begin cleaning. Deep cleaning your apartment always cleared your head and it killed two birds with one stone considering that Lando was coming the next day.

Lando didn’t answer any of your texts the rest of the night and you started to convince yourself that he wasn’t coming which had you relieved. That was shortlived when you heard someone knocking on your door the next day as you were eating lunch.

“You’re kidding,” you said, shocked as you opened your door to see him standing there, exhaustion written all over your face.

“I don’t have the energy to fight with you right now,” he mumbled, pushing past you with his small suitcase.

“I didn’t invite you to come,” you shot back, following him angrily. He set his stuff down near the kitchen island before turning back to you.

“My guilt was eating me alive so I had to come,” he said plainy.

You rolled your eyes, “I would have saved you the trip if you just would have called.”

He gave you a pointed look, you both knew you wouldn’t have answered.

“Can I please take a nap before I read the apology speech I prepared?” He asked and you fought hard against the laugh threatening to escape. It didn’t go unnoticed by Lando who smiled triumphantly.

“Fine,” you agreed, showing him to the guest room. “Why do you have your suitcase?”

“I didn’t book a hotel,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Then where are you going to stay?” He didn’t answer and you furrowed your eyebrows. “No. No way. Do you not remember that I don’t like people staying over?”

“I remember every single thing about that night. In detail,” he shot back and your face flamed red. “We won’t be in the same room so it should be fine by your rules.”

You stormed out of the guest room and slammed the door. You paced back and forth in your living room, trying to process the fact that Lando Norris was currently napping in your guest room. This was not how you expected your day to go. After about an hour, you heard the door open and Lando emerged, looking slightly more rested but still jet-lagged.

"Feel better?" you asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

He nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look, can we talk?"

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. "Isn't that why you flew halfway across the world?”

"I had no idea what was happening y/n, you have to believe me,” he said honestly. “I got rid of social media mid season because of the amount of hate I was getting. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“The things that have been said about me Lando…” you trailed off, resolve cracking. “How could I want to keep doing this?”

Lando's face fell as he saw the pain in your eyes. He took a tentative step towards you, his voice soft. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. What they've been saying, it's not okay. Not at all."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "It's not just what they're saying. It's... everything. The threats, the harassment. They found my personal information, Lando. I don't feel safe anymore."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt evident on his face. “You’re too good for us to lose you. That article you wrote? It was brutal, but it was honest. And that's what makes you great at your job.”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t stop Lando as he stepped even closer to you, his hands coming to cup your face.

“I need you there,” he admitted. “I need you to keep me on my toes, to keep me accountable. Don’t let them win.”

A tear escaped your eye and Lando brushed it away with his thumb, staring intensely at you. You laid your head against his chest, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you again.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied softly. Pulling away, you tried to collect yourself before turning back to him. “How long are you here for?”

“Couple of days,” he said sheepishly.

“You know I’m not going to sleep with you again just because you’re here,” you said and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll try not to be offended that you thought that was what I wanted,” he replied.

“Whatever,” you said, heading towards your room.

“Pain in my ass,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you left.

The next day was actually enjoyable, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You and Lando got brunch before walking around the city, you showing him the touristy sights.

As you walked along the river, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Lando. He seemed more relaxed here, away from the pressures of the F1 world. You had to admit, when he wasn't being an insufferable prat, he was actually quite charming.

"What?" Lando asked, catching you staring.

You quickly looked away. "Nothing. Just surprised you haven't complained about the heat yet."

He chuckled. "I'm not that delicate, you know. Besides, the company makes it bearable."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your small smile. "Careful, Norris. That almost sounded like a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head," he teased back. “What are we doing tonight?”

“Maybe just a movie back at the apartment,” you said. “Thanks to your apology speech, I actually will have to go back to work tomorrow.”

He grinned at you. “Glad to hear that.”

“Yeah my first piece back will be ‘Why Oscar Piastri is my pick to win the 2025 championship.’”

You squealed as he moved into you, tickling into your sides.

That night, you and Lando were curled up on opposite ends of your couch, watching a movie. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing how relaxed he looked in your space. It was a far cry from the tense interactions you usually had at the track.

As the credits rolled, Lando turned to you with a soft smile. "This was nice. I'm glad I came."

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest you weren't quite ready to examine. "It was. Thank you for coming, Lando. I know I gave you a hard time, but... it means a lot that you cared enough to fly out here."

He reached over, gently squeezing your hand. "Of course I care, y/n. Despite our... complicated history, I've always respected you. And I hate that you were hurt because of me, even indirectly."

“I appreciate it,” you whispered. He stared at you a little longer, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he spoke again.

“Sequel?” He asked and you smiled, nodding your head.

As the next movie started, he didn’t move back to his spot, instead staying very close to you. As you felt yourself drifting off, you snuggled into his side, much to his amusement. The last thing you remember was him placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. As consciousness slowly crept in, you became aware of a warm presence beside you, a steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Your eyes fluttered open, and the events of the previous night came rushing back.

You were still on the couch, curled up against Lando's side, his arm draped protectively around you. Sometime during the night, he had pulled a blanket over both of you, cocooning you in warmth. The TV screen was black, the movie long since ended.

Panic seized your chest as the full weight of the situation hit you. You had spent the night with Lando. Not just in a physical sense, but in the most intimate way possible - wrapped in each other's arms, vulnerable in sleep. This was exactly what you had always feared, the reason you never let anyone stay over.

Slipping out of his arms, you tried to calm yourself down as you headed back into your room. Your mind was racing as you showered, your feelings for Lando bubbling to the surface even though you pushed them down.

Lando was sitting up and scrolling through his phone when you came back into the living room. He looked up at you, face instantly scrunching as he saw you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing, what time is your flight?” You asked, without any emotion. Lando moved off the couch towards you, grabbing your arm as you turned away from him.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Is this because of last night?” He asked and you flinched, giving him the answer he needed.

“You need to go Lando, thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to go.”

“Wow,” he said in disbelief. “I’ll go when you can look me in the eye and tell me that all you still feel for me is hatred.”

“Lando please,” you said, begging.

“Why are you pushing me away?” He asked, frustration evident in his voice.

You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "Because it can't work, Lando. We can't work."

His eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Why not? Give me one good reason."

"We live in different countries, for starters," you said, your voice strained. "Our careers are completely incompatible. I'm supposed to report on you objectively, and you're supposed to trust that I won't use anything personal against you in my articles."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Lando snapped. "Look at Fernando and Melissa. We could make it work if we wanted to."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. "It's not just that. We're too different, Lando. We argue constantly. Half the time I want to strangle you."

"And the other half?" he challenged.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said.

“It does to me,” he shot back.

“What would happen if we were together Lando?” you asked tirelessly. “If your fans hated me for writing about you, how would they treat me for dating you? I’ve seen how they treated your exes.”

Lando was quiet for a moment, anger steaming off of him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, coldly. “I guess I’m not worth it.”

You started to call after him but he was already gone.

—--------------------------------------------

Lando’s season started off incredibly, winning the first three races all by over 5 seconds minimum. You would think that he would be ecstatic, his boyish energy returning to interviews and PR videos but that was not the case. He was pissed. Anyone that tried to talk to him was met with short answers and anytime McLaren made him do anything, he looked like he was being held at gunpoint.

He wanted to get over you but he couldn’t. He’d never had anyone challenge him the way you did and he could still feel you sleeping in his arms that night from a couple of months ago. His friends were walking on eggshells around him and Carlos was about to lose it.

“Please just call her,” Carlos begged, sitting next to Lando at dinner in Monaco. They had a couple weeks in between races and what was supposed to be an enjoyable break, was turning into a nightmare for Carlos due to Lando’s moodiness.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me, she made that quite clear,” Lando replied.

“She’s just scared Lando, she’s literally been checking up on you,” he told his friend. A look of interest flashed across Lando’s face so Carlos kept going. “Oscar said she asked how you were doing just last week.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lando finally said and Carlos groaned, resting his head into his hands.

You were miserable. The past few months since pushing Lando away had been some of the hardest of your life. You threw yourself into work, covering IndyCar and trying to ignore the ache in your chest every time you saw news about Lando's incredible start to the F1 season.

But no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, thoughts of him kept creeping in. The way he looked at you that morning on your couch, hurt and confusion in his eyes as you pushed him away. The feeling of falling asleep in his arms, more content than you'd been in years.

You knew you had valid reasons for ending things before they really began. The complications of your careers, the distance, the intensity of F1 fandom. But the longer you went without talking to him, the more those reasons felt like excuses born out of fear.

OP: Hey, you asked about Lando last week. Thought you might want to know he's in a pretty bad mood lately. Carlos is at his wit's end.

You frowned, guilt gnawing at you. Was Lando's mood because of you? No, that was ridiculous. He was probably just stressed about the season, despite his early successes.

Y/N: Thanks for letting me know. I'm sure he'll snap out of it soon.

OP: c’mon y/n, I know you’re just as miserable as he is.

You cursed your friend David who you knew told Oscar about how depressing your life had become. As you sat in your apartment that night your mind wandered back to that last conversation.

Why did you push him away? Because you didn’t want to get hurt?

The truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of letting someone in, of being vulnerable, of potentially getting your heart broken. But as you reflected on the past few months without Lando, you realized you were already heartbroken.

With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed a number you had been avoiding.

"Hello?" Lando's voice was hesitant, guarded.

"Hey," you said softly. "It's me."

There was a long pause. "Y/n? Is everything okay?"

You took a deep breath. "No, actually. Everything's not okay. I... I miss you, Lando. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Another pause. And then nothing. He hung up.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris

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