#Pretty sure Champions was still running

[whetstonefires]

Why do you think Kamala Khan, Miles Morales and Sam Alexander were given their own Teen Titans-equivalent team (the Champions) rather than simply having them join the Young Avengers, who were already popular in their own right?

Bunch of reasons!

Age bracket. Miles and Kamala were introduced in their early teens and had reached their mid teens when the Champions were formed; Young Avengers were by this point college aged.

Tone. The Young Avengers had a long sprawling soap-opera type team history that encouraged relatively meandering interpersonal drama focused storylines, where the team was often its own biggest problem to a higher degree than is usually true of superhero teams. Champions ran to a much faster, punchier narrative that could be fit around the fact that some members had other books they were mains in. And their concept was to do cleaner heroing less tied down by baggage than the Avengers, who'd just shat themselves spectacularly with Civil War II, while the Young Avengers are literally a team about baggage despite none of them initially being real legacy heroes or even having met the Avengers they were riffing on.

Geography. Miles is from Brooklyn and Kamala is from Jersey City and afaik the Champions operated primarily around the greater metro area. It would be weird to write the Young Avengers like that, but disruptive to find a way to keep involving those two when the story didn't stay put. Sam didn't have this limitation, and neither did Viv or afaik Amadeus, but they weren't the big draws.

Marketing. The point of putting Miles and Kamala in the same book, with other heroes their age, is they're the hot new thing people are into, in particular people who were not already part of the Comic Book Purchasing demographic. Young Avengers content is catered foremost to nerds who have been engaged with comics for 20 years; Champions was meant to work as an entry-level title.

Related to all of the above, writing logistics would have been such a pain, trying to satisfy multiple audiences with different stakes in the title and allow Miles and Kamala to headline while also being the babies of a group where they didn't really fit in. Awful idea. Editorial was so correct.

In summary: Did you ever see that short Titans run I believe just after Flashpoint, where DC put Damian on a team mainly staffed with characters from the NTT era for nostalgia cred, so you know people around Dick's age cohort, and had Damian lead it and made characters like Beast Boy happy about being micromanaged by this rude little twerp? Unreadable.

My question was how Marvel had the balls to launch the Champions into a market where they also had a teen-team-style West Coast Avengers book out, the new Wasp running an all-girl team, and a new Runaways book. Actually idk which came first but that's not the point. Like four very different narratives being done but it was still four youth team titles at once, way to splinter your base. Was Disney just running tests on market saturation?

[sunderwight]

Cumplane where Airplane, in a fit of either bravery or insanity or positive or negative self-esteem (he's not totally sure) decides to cosplay as Luo Binghe and post the pictures online.

Of course, he doesn't do it as "Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky", he knows he has some questionable fans and doesn't really want to hand them a picture of his face. So he posts the images under one of the pseudonyms he uses for lurking around the comment section and social media tags. It's just a handful of images of him looking like the protagonist in his head, attempting to strike cool poses in a wig and some period clothes (he rented both).

The reception is... mixed. Airplane does not have abs, after all, nor a flawless complexion or much skill with makeup. He is fat, freckled, and awkward. The PIDW readership is not known for being particularly supportive either. In fact they're mostly a crab bucket of negativity and masculine posturing, so he gets a lot of mean-spirited commentary.

It's fine. Nothing he hadn't expected. Really solidifies for him that posting was a fit of madness, actually! What did he even expect? He's bracing himself for the worst when he sees that Peerless Cucumber, notorious hate-reader and defender of Luo Binghe's honor, has commented. Ah, shit. He's probably going to rip into Airplane for daring to sully his precious Binghe's reputation by dressing up like that, isn't he?

The comment is long, too. Fuck. Airplane's not sure if his self-esteem can take a comprehensive beating from the champion hater himself, but he's too curious not to look.

Shen Yuan, in the meanwhile, is just pleased that there has FINALLY been a Luo Binghe cosplayer who looks the part. Of course Luo Binghe wouldn't have exaggerated muscles, those are just a product of dehydration. Binghe spent most of his disciple years running around chopping wood and hauling laundry, and then later doing whatever he could to pack on the calories in order to make it through the Abyss. A hefty workman's build would only make sense for him, anything else would be nonsense. Airplane also described Luo Binghe as having a beautiful face, which Shen Yuan won't blame most cosplayers for not being able to just make happen, but a beautiful face doesn't mean "covered in so much makeup it looks like an anime character"! When would Luo Binghe have the time or inclination to put on makeup? A natural beauty with some inevitable blemishes would make more sense and be much more appealing, and this "Airplane Crashing to the Ground" (funny play on the author's name, Shen Yuan approves) has very pretty features! Everyone hating on this cosplay is just an idiot, the only actual problem is that his wig is poorly fitted.

So in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, he lays this all out.

This gets him embroiled in arguments with several other fans, who even accuse him of actually being the guy in the photos, claiming that there's no other reason why he would defend them. Shen Yuan doesn't care if people think that's him, because that's still the best Luo Binghe cosplay he's ever seen, but he doesn't want them doubting the sincerity of his arguments. So, he decides that the only reasonable thing to do is dress himself up in cosplay as well and then post the actual photos of himself.

While he'd like to dress up as one of Luo Binghe's allies like Mobei Jun, or maybe someone cool like Yue Qingyuan, he is too pedantic to think he could pull that off. Those guys are all strong warrior types, and Shen Yuan is a scrawny pale rich kid who looks like he'd probably lose a fight with a wet paper towel. The only characters he could plausibly pull off would be some of the more consumptive members of Binghe's harem and maybe, maybe, one of the weaker villains like Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan is NOT posting pictures of himself crossplaying to the central nexus of toxic masculinity itself, so... Shen Qingqiu it is!

Poor Airplane has to go sit and stare at a while for a while. Peerless Cucumber likes his cosplay. Peerless Cucumber, ardent defender of Shang Qinghua's sellout crappy main character mary-sue, thinks Airplane is good-looking enough to cosplay as him. And said so. Repeatedly. And then posted borderline thirst-trap villain cosplay of himself, inadvertently revealing in the process that he is hot.

What the. What. What?!

Anyway, Shen Yuan suggests that they attend the next convention both cosplaying together because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky is supposed to be doing a meet & greet at that one, and wouldn't it be fun to go as a pair? And Airplane agrees before his brain catches up and he realizes that might present a problem.

[poetsblvd]

LOVE AND LEO ꪆৎ CL16

“I see I’ve been replaced.” Charles grins, sock clad feet moving towards your bed where you lay cuddled up with Leo on your chest.

You smile fingers softly running up and down the puppy’s head as he nuzzles further into you. “Don’t be ridiculous Cha, It was never a competition. Leo will always be the clear winner of my heart.”

“I’m wounded.” He slaps his hand on his chest, a show of faux hurt, staring at you and your baby all cuddled up.

“Scoot over will you Ma vie?”

You nod, carefully pushing yourself and Leo to give room to Charles who sits down gently, making sure not to ruffle the bed too much and wake the sleeping and incredibly energetic dog.

He settles next to you, a little higher on the bed so your head can rest on his shoulder comfortably, without compromising Leo’s position and his sleep.

Placing his hand on yours that lays on Leo’s fur, he pecks your forehead, a warm feeling encompassing him.

You, Leo and him. He’s sure he’s found perfection.

“Je t’aime. Je t’aime beaucoup.” The words are murmured on your forehead, as you push yourself closer to him.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

His hands wind around Leo’s body pulling the puppy and you on his chest.

His voice comes out soft, “See, I have my whole world near my heart now. It’s where I keep you, always.

You sniffle, hand coming over to cover your eyes burrowing yourself deeper in his chest. “Cha you’re gonna make me cry.”

“S'il te plaît, ne pleure pas.” He chuckles softly. ( please don’t cry )

“I feel like don’t say it enough, and I know you tell me it’s enough and you know that I love you, but I know it’s not easy being with me. I travel too much, my work is too demanding, the hate you get is disgusting, and I can get frustrating, but Merde, I love you so much and I don’t say it enough.” His voice cracks a little towards the end, and he pulls you closer to him, still wary of the little puppy on him.

Eyes roving your face he zeroes on your slightly red eyes, he chokes out a laugh whining when your fingers softly pinch his ears.

“You’re so pretty mon couer, I’m sorry if i don’t say that enough either. Si jolie, si belle et toute à moi.” ( so pretty, so beautiful and all mine )

You kiss his lips, grinning cheekily. “And Leo’s.”

“Hah! And Leo’s, how could I have forgotten?”

“I don’t know I thought I made it pretty clear there’s no competition?”

“Of course not! Both of us belong solely to you.”

“I think a certain world champion would disagree.” You tease, giggling when he tickles your waist.

“I love you so very much mon amour.”

“I love you too, so much.”

“…And Leo?”

“And Leo.”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , i feel like i got a bit emotional in between there and i’m sorryy, but i kind of feel like i needed it, but this was really cutesy !! i hope you enjoyed thank you for requesting ++ i know the puppy in the pic isn’t leo pls !! <33

[mead-iocre]

Pay Attention To Me | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: do you know what's worse than dating a football player? dating a football fan.

warnings: brief mention of sex

wc: 2.5k words

Sometimes you wonder to yourself what possessed you to date a footballer. You weren’t athletic or sporty, and unlike your athlete brothers, you didn’t enjoy any sport enough to stick to it. Your only means of exercise was pilates and the occasional trip to the beach in your cute bikini. 

So how did you end up dating a professional footballer? 

You found yourself thinking about that question as you sit curled up on one end of the leather sofa browsing the Chanel website on your laptop. On the other end of the sofa, with her legs sprawled out and a beer bottle in one hand, sat your girlfriend. Leah was dressed in a grey hoodie and matching grey joggers; her hair was down, which was a rarity these days due to the heat, streaks of light blonde strands framing her pretty face. From your place on the sofa, you are granted the most breathtaking view of the ocean thanks to the expansive glass walls. The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see; the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. As the sun begins to set, it casts a golden glow over the water, making the waves glimmer and sparkle.

The villa was gorgeous, and exactly like how the pictures showed it to be. You had chosen the place yourself, tempted by the promises of walking out onto the deck and being able to jump into crystal clear waters. The spacious overwater bungalow features polished wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, and furnishings in soft, neutral tones complemented by cool-tone vibrant accents. When you showed pictures of the villa to your girlfriend, she took once glance at it and handed you her gold amex card. She didn’t even ask you for the price. 

Back to your own question earlier, the short answer was that Leah was attractive as hell. She was also everything you could ask for in a partner. She's got a cracking sense of humour, she's passionate about her job, family-orientated, and it didn’t hurt that she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. She made sure to spend as much time with you around her busy schedule. She accepted that you were high-matainance, and gladly indulged you. Leah was the whole package. Sometimes as you lay in bed, when the night is still and quiet, you would take a moment to thank your lucky stars that she walked into your life. 

However, no one in this world is perfect– even someone like Leah Williamson.

Your girlfriend’s biggest flaw was that she is a football player–and by extension– that meant she was a football fan.

And that was the problem. 

Today was the 2024 Euros final. England somehow managed to slither their way to the tournament final and will be facing Spain to compete for the title of Champions of Europe 2024. The original plan was to head over to the Williamson’s house so everyone could watch the game together. However, your birthday happened to fall in the week leading up to the final. As a birthday gift from your very generous girlfriend, Leah had surprised you with a week-long trip to the Maldives. Her only condition was that she gets to watch the Euros final at the villa 

Uninterrupted. 

And being the good girlfriend that you are, you were more than happy to compromise. That is until you realise that Leah has pretty much ignored you the entire day. 

Well– maybe ignore is the wrong term. She was acting the same this morning– ordering a breakfast spread fit for champions by the time you woke up, booking a luxury spa treatment for the both of you at the resort, and even letting you run wild with her card at the nearby mall where there’s a strip of high-end stores with names like Cartier, Vacheron Constantin, and Dior. You came strutting back to the villa in your new pair of Jimmy Choo kitten heels, while Leah trails behind you, her arms full of shopping bags– all of them belonging to you.

However, you were what other people would call clingy. You craved attention and affection more than the usual person. Physical touch was your love language, and most of the time, your girlfriend was more than happy to meet your needs. 

But not today it seems. 

She was far too busy watching a bunch of men on telly chase a ball around a field of freshly cut grass to pay enough attention to you.

Finally getting board of looking at bags and shoes on your laptop, you shut it down and put it aside. Stretching one leg over the length of the cream white sofa, you nudge Leah with your foot. “Lee…”

Without even moving her eyes away from the screen, your girlfriend just hums in reply. Rude.

Another nudge with your freshly manicured toes. “Leah”

Finally he blonde turns to you, grasping your foot with one hand effectively putting an end to your incessant poking. “What, baby?”

“I’m bored” You pout at her. 

“Then watch the game, darling” She tilts her head towards the 85” Samsung TV that is mounted on the wall. Her hand was now lightly massaging your foot and your calves, probably sensing how tense you are. 

You groan in reply, your head falling backwards dramatically. “That's exactly what’s boring me, Lee” 

Leah just smiles, but it’s a bit strained. She just wants to watch the game, and you’re making it hard for her to focus. She’s usually used to your indifference for the sport that she happens to make a career out of. You only "enjoyed" football when your girlfriend was playing. You attended all her matches and would cheer loudly for her when she's on the pitch. Whenever Leah would drag you along with to watch football matches as a spectator with her, you would reluctantly agree– after many kisses and promises of shopping afterwards– and armed with the latest copy of Vogue to pass the time. If she wasn’t on the pitch, you did not care.

You sneak a peek at her, wanting to see if she would indulge you further, but she was already turning her attention back to the TV. Stupid tv. 

You rattle your foot that is still under her hand. You didn’t know where this was coming from but you had enough of being pushed aside for a game of football. “Leah!” 

And that’s when she snaps. 

“Fucking hell– would it kill you to be quiet! Can’t you see I’m trying to watch the match, mate?” She gestures wildly at the tv. Her eye brows were drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. When she looked at you again, her gaze was intense– piercing almost.

You glare back at her, hoping she can feel your wrath from her peripheral since she has once agin directed her eyes back to the tv. “m’not your mate” 

You huff audibly, snatching your foot back from her grasp. You could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside you. Sure, you had both compromised that Leah gets to spend one day to watch the game uninterrupted. And yes, you did get your girlfriend all to yourself during the last five days, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away like this. You were being selfish, but who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is being uncharacteristically mean about it.

When you were in one of your moods, you had a habit of muttering under your breath when things don't go your way, making scathing, albeit humorous, remarks. It wasn’t long before the sounds of you grumbling under your breath could be heard by your now equally moody girlfriend. 

“bloody football…this was supposed to be a birthday trip yet my girlfriend is spending time watching ugly men kick a ball around…we could’ve been snorkelling and exploring the reefs or having sex on a yacht but nooooooo apparently football is more interesting”

Sometimes Leah found it cute but other times, like today, your grumbling was annoying and it was distracting her from the game. The blonde just wants an hour or two to watch football uninterrupted, yet you can't even give her that. She smacks her hand down hard on the sofa, startling you and putting an end to your angry muttering. Leah turns to you and glares. “If you want to keep grumbling like that go do it somewhere else. You’re actually fucking pissing me off. don't know why I even put up with you” She groans the last bit as she rubs her forehead like you were some sort of nuisance to her.  

That did it. 

You were annoyed at the lack of affection from your girlfriend, and the same person that you wanted attention from was now mad at you. You glare at her right back, but your eyes were starting to water and you were getting the sniffles.

Wrestling the blanket off your lap like you were fighting an alligator, you swing your legs off the sofa, ready to stomp to the room and slam the door like a mature lady when Leah grabs your arm before you can move. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby” 

You angrily wipe away a traitorous tear as it slides down your cheek, trying to shake off the blonde’s grip but she holds firm. She moves to stand on her own two feet until she’s standing in front of you. Leah crouches down slightly, forcing your eyes to meet her blue ones. She frowns when she notices your tear stained cheeks. “Darling…hey, look at me, please”

You meet her eyes, albeit reluctantly. She rewards your effort with a kiss on your wet cheek. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, please. You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

“Oyarzabal…Cucurella! 2-1 SPAIN!! Time is running out and Spain are nearly there. Oyarzabal hooks the ball out left to Cucurella, who beats a flagging Walker with a lovely diagonal ball into the box.The substitute is stretching ahead of Stones, having timed his run to perfection in between England's two centre-backs, and slides to put Spain back in front. This might just be it for England…”

Shit.

You head snapped towards the tv in shock, your annoyance disappearing. While you weren't personally rooting for any of the two teams, your English girlfriend was rooting for England so you automatically were rooting for England too. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You were anticipating a slew of cursed words from the Milton Keynes native, but her eyes had not left your face once, far too concerned about making sure you were okay. You were her number one priority, always. 

Taking a step closer to her, you rub the sides of her waist lightly. It was your turn to comfort your girlfriend. You hug her, pressing your head against her chest to listen to the rhythmic beating of her heart. It’s soothing and familiar, and any lingering feelings of frustration have completely disappeared. 

“The lads can pull one back” You say to her, peeking at the time running at the left top corner of the screen. Your girlfriend still hasn't said anything and you assume it's because she's sad about the score. “They’ve still got 10 minutes to equalise– plus additional time to play.” Just because you weren’t the biggest football fan out there did not mean you didn’t understand how the sport works. 

“Quit thinking about the match for a minute, baby, I don’t care about them right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” Leah pulls back slightly, cupping your face gently, and you lean into the warmth of her palms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lee. I was just been silly” You pucker your lips up at her, and she grants your request with a grin. She kisses you once, and then again, pecking your lips repeatedly like she can’t get enough of you. 

You give her one more kiss, giving her a sharp bite on her lower lip before you pull away completely. Leah frowns at that, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. 

“I’m going to grab my laptop and watch Desperate Housewives out on the hammock. I’ll leave you to your football–alone– so you can focus.”

“What no. Baby, you can’t leave me when we’re one nil down during a Euros final” Leah gestures animatedly at the TV, the scoreline still showing Spain in the lead. “Stay with me. Watch your show right here with me” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Without waiting for you to reply, Leah began pulling you by the hand back to the sofa. She sat down, tugging you onto her lap. You just laugh, not even bothering to reach for your abandoned laptop on the other side of the sofa. You snuggle into her, your chest pressed together, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. Just because you agreed to stay with her, doesn’t mean you were interested in watching the match. 

A buzzing from the inside of your short’s pocket startles you slightly. You glance at the screen, reading the text, and then gasp. 

“love, my Chanel sales associate is asking me if I’d like to book an appointment at their store to see their new collection! There’s actually a cute bag that I've been thinking about…"

Leah hums, distracted slightly, not even looking at the phone screen that you are practically shoving into her face. “Yeah, we can get your bag once we arrive back home” 

You squeal, already texting your sales associate to go ahead and book you in. 

“–only if England win it” The typing stops and your heart drops. Your celebration cut short. 

“w-what…b-but, love…” You look up at her to see if she was serious, and to your dismay there's not a hint of playfulness in her gaze. She's serious. Glancing back at the screen, you see England have only 5 minutes left to equalise if they want to play for additional time, but the seconds are ticking by quickly. 

Scrambling off your girlfriend’s lap, you take your place beside her on the sofa instead. You have never been more motivated to cheer for a team your girlfriend was not playing for. Mustering all the manifestation in the universe, and your desperate need for that Chanel medium 25cm double flap shoulder bag in pink quilted lambskin leather with silver metal trim, you shout from the top of your voice “C’mon, England!!”

Leah just laughs loudly beside you, yelling and whooping too. 

However, sports can be a cruel thing sometimes.

England did not end up winning the Euros, much to the dismay of your girlfriend— and probably an entire nation. However, you got your bag anyway. Leah could never say no to you. She would give you the entire world if you asked for it, but luckily all you wanted is a pink Chanel bag– for now. 

More spoilt!reader x Leah because you all seem to enjoy her.

I wrote this the day after the Euros and then abandoned it because I got stuck and experience a writer's block halfway lol. Hope it still delivered.

-- kisses, butter.

[starkwlkr]

the hamilton girls | lewis hamilton

based on dave grohl’s interviews about his daughters <33 he’s my favorite girl dad i can always trust dave grohl

Lewis Hamilton was many things. A Formula 1 driver, a seven time world champion, an idol, an inspiration to many young kids, but most of all, he was a husband and father to three girls. His family was everything to him. He enjoyed being a dad to his three precious girls.

Maeve was his oldest. She was born on a sunny day in 2013. Then came his second, Violet, born in 2017. Violet instantly became Maeve’s best friend. Lewis and Y/n were thankful that Maeve didn’t go through a jealous phase. Lastly, came their third girl, Gracie, born in early 2020.

The Hamilton girls would join their father in the paddock when they didn’t have school. Dressed in Mercedes merch, they walked hand in hand with their mother to the Mercedes garage. The entire team loved them, it was impossible not to.

“Dad! I really want lemonade!” Violet poked Lewis’ side until he payed attention to her.

“There’s no lemonade here. Have some water.” Lewis suggested, but Violet frowned. Lewis didn’t want his daughter to be upset so he directed the girls to Mercedes hospitality in hopes that someone could make the girls a lemonade. In the end, his three daughters ended up with their lemonade.

At one point, they even because Twitter famous whenever they were at the races. Violet had a habit of sleeping even before the race ended so when the camera showed Lewis celebrating his win, the camera panned over to Lewis’ family showing little Violet asleep with her mouth slightly open in her mom’s arms.

Maeve was half asleep, but she still made a heart with her hands. Gracie was with her grandma, but you were pretty sure she was asleep as well.

But when they weren’t attending races, the Hamilton girls were back in school. Whenever Lewis had time off, he would pick up the girls from school, giving you some time to yourself. He knew how the school pickup process was, what he didn’t know was how long it would take. When it was finally his time to park in front of the school, a teacher walked up making Lewis roll down the window.

The teacher was taken by surprise when she saw Lewis. “Um . . Who are you here to pick up, sir?”

“Maeve and Violet Hamilton.” He replied. Then the teacher nodded and walked back to the school. Seconds later, his two girls walked patiently towards their dad’s black Mercedes. Lewis could feel the other parents staring at him. It wasn’t everyday that Lewis Hamilton came to a children’s school.

Maeve opened the backseat door and climbed in along with Violet. They looked exhausted, probably from all the running they did during recess.

“How was school?” Lewis asked as he drove away.

“We went to the library today and I got a book. It’s about sports and your face is in it.” Violet said as she got the book out from her backpack.

“Really? What does it say?” Lewis questioned, curious as to what the book said. The girls weren’t really interested in formula 1, so he was confused as to why Violet even checked out the book.

“It says you won seven titles and then i stopped reading because I was bored. I only got it because I wanted to show you and mom that uncle Nico was in the book too.”

His girls always made him laugh. They could brighten up his day even if he was at his lowest. He was such a proud dad too, often bringing up his daughters during interviews and posting pictures of them on instagram. During his Jimmy Kimmel interview, he took any chance he got to talk about his family.

“And do your daughters understand that their dad is a seven time world champion?” Jimmy asked.

Lewis chuckled. “They don’t really care.” He said then the audience, along with Jimmy, laughed. “No, they know what I do for work, but when they were younger they thought I sold cars.”

“You sold cars? How did they come up with that?” Jimmy laughed.

“Their mum explained that I work with cars, that was all, so they assumed I sold cars because at home I have several. Then I think it was the Monaco Grand Prix where they finally got an understanding of what exactly I do. They watched the race and when it was over, I asked them what they thought of it and all I got was ‘I don’t know’ and that’s when my wife said that halfway through the race they asked her for her phone so they could watch their cartoons.” Lewis explained.

He remembers that day clearly. The girls weren’t interested in cars, they rather watch reruns of Gravity Falls. He wasn’t mad either, he was glad that they didn’t get frustrated and start causing chaos around the paddock.

Him mentioning his girls because a regular thing. During press conferences, he was often asked about his girls, more specifically if they would follow his footsteps into the world of F1.

“They don’t even care about the races.” Lewis said as the other drivers bursted out laughing. “My oldest, Maeve, she did have a phase where she liked cars, but she’s transitioned into learning about dinosaurs. She says she wants to be an paleontologist so I don’t have to worry about her.”

“Her birthday is coming up, no?” Max asked. “I’ll buy her one of those fossil kits. I think she’ll love it.”

“And what about your other daughter?”

“She falls asleep every time, I don’t think we will see her racing anytime soon. I’m telling you, they don’t care.” Lewis laughed.

“They don’t care about your world titles?” Charles asked smiling.

“They don’t care! To them, I’m just their dad. They’re like ‘daddy, I need my lemonade now’ it’s kinda funny actually. But I love my girls.”

The Hamilton girls loved their dad to death, it was clear, even if they didn’t care about his world titles or his reputation in F1. He was the best dad to them and that was all they cared about.

[bunnys-kisses]

. 。・゜✭・mean・✫゜・。.

max verstappen liked to make you cry. it wasn't your fault, you were the sister of his infamous rival so if max couldn't make charles cry then he'd make you cry. that time he hid your favourite teddy bear and teased you for loving it so much as a teenager. the other time he pushed you into a corner and got into your face how something so pathetic shouldn't be in the paddock getting in everyone's way. you remember when he scared off a sweet boy that you were talking to a year before max left for f1, you saw how he stalked to you. you'd always remember it like a lion being possessive over a specific gazelle it wanted to feast on. only max could work you bones between those massive teeth. he loved the waterworks, how you'd sniffle and your eyes would be rimmed a deep red. how you'd wipe your eyes frantically and your plush bottom lip would wobble. it lit something sick in a young max. you learned that even bullies can win prizes and races, get sponsorships and get his way into formula one.

and what turned into teasing from a bratty teen boy turned into an insatiable hunger in adulthood. even now well into his twenties, that front lobe full developed, max still liked to make you cry. except instead of calling you names or pulling your hair, he was bullying that sweet pussy of yours. his large hand over your mouth as he had you bent in half against the couch in his driver's room. you had taken a week off of school to come see your brother, but max got you into his space before you could find charles. and that was when the fun began. you looked up at the wold champion with big, wet eyes. the tears trickled down a little onto max's hand. max replaced his hand with his other one to he could lick the salty tears off of it. the taste made him shudder, it was like tasting sparkling diamonds. the richest feeling he could have only on par with his fat cock shoved into your achy cunt. he continued to fuck you, watching your expressions change with each thrust of his hips. he had to make sure that his leaky cock was stuffed deep in your pretty hole.

the wetness in your eyes only excited him more, he continued to fuck you up against the couch, keeping you pinned under him as he fucked the daylights out of you. his weepy little cry baby.his cock touched the deepest parts of you, he wanted to make sure every last drop got pushed into the back of your pussy. letting his poor cock just batter the hell out of your sweet cunt. he had been with a fair number of women, but he was your first (and only). he wouldn't allowed anyone else to touch and your brother was (unknowingly) his guard dog. charles would never let you date someone, his only sister should be focusing on her studies. not focused on boys. but yet, max verstappen was bullying your pussy and making your mascara run down your sweet cheeks. poor thing looked like a raccoon.max silenced you with a kiss and his palms on your bare breasts.

max wanted to breed that sweet little cunt. see your bottom lip wobble as you tell your older brothers (who thought you were a virgin) that you were becoming a mother to the next greatest in formula one. don't worry, he'd make sure you were nice and safe, of course you could finish your schooling. but you might have to do it in monaco because he wanted to be with his baby. the three of you somewhere safe. you'd be closer to your family then you were before, he'd make sure that you lived a charmed life. as his, all his. his cock prodded against sensitive parts of you and you felt your brain go numb. you choked back whines as he held your mouth once more. let him just get a good feel for your soft, gentle cunt. he needed to make sure you could fit all of him, after all he'd be the only one who'd ever fuck you. you sniffled and looked at him with wet eyes. he licked his lips. you looked divine, like an angel. the kind that max got his claws into and plucked all their feathers off. the sounds of your fucking were messy and wet. you swallowed back all the moans you could, but you felt limp against him. your tears reaching your chin. you sniffled and maintained eye contact and felt the twist in your core. you looked so cute, he had made a total mess of you. you looked so pretty, the center of max's world. the subject of so many fantasies. but as your eyes almost roll back from the pleasure of it, all max couldn't get enough. he'd every way he could, make sure that a few tears slipped out. he was sadistic, but the hunger grew every time he went without. he'd be good to you, just let him finish inside. it's where it was meant to be.

"max."

the world champion loved to make you cry, except instead of pulling your pigtails. his hand was deep in your hair as he forced you up and down on his cock, drooling creamy promises into your soaked cunt.

[vivwritesfics]

lando with girlfriend who races for mercedes but got into a crash and was in coma, but she finally wakes up

This picture does stuff to me

(set 2024)

Second part HERE

"Holy shit," Lando said as he watched his girlfriend walk onto the grid. He watched as she walked over, racing overalls low on her hips, black fireproofs adorning her body.

Lando licked his lips as she stood beside him and Oscar, leaning against the barrier with her arms folded over her chest. "Wow, baby," he said, staring at her.

"Like what you see?" She grinned.

Lando said nothing. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Tell Toto I like the black fire proofs."

It was Y/N's first season in Formula One, her first race too. She was the F2 champion two years running before Mercedes finally gave her a chance. She'd been with Lando since her F2 days, after they'd met in Monaco after the Grand Prix.

"Excited?" Oscar asked as he watched them.

Yes, Y/N was excited. But she'd never been on the track with her boyfriend, had never had to fight him before. Neither of them knew what they were going to do. They both hoped they would treat each other like any other driver, but the rest of the grid was doubtful.

"Very," she said to Oscar as she leaned her head on Lando's shoulders. "I'll blow you both a kiss when I come speeding past, lapping you ."

She had done extremely well for her first qualifying in F1, qualifying on the second row. Lando was 6th through a mistake in Q3 and Oscar was pack in 9th after he got his times deleted.

It was amazing, driving behind a three time world champion and a second time world champion. Y/N did her absolute best, holding her position.

And then Checo Perez tried his luck. He went around the outside of Y/N on turn one. But he didn't leave enough space, hitting her wheel pretty bad and sending her spinning into the barriers at such a high speed. But the car didn't just hit the barrier and bounce off. It hit the barrier and kept going, ripping off chunks of the car and sending them flying.

It wasn't too terrifying at first. It was still scary, though, Y/N's first race and her first big crash in F1. To make things worse it wasn't even her fault. She was having such a good race, doing everything she should have, and then Checo Perez fucked it all up for her.

As chunks of the car got ripped away by the barrier, the Mercedes team was still pretty sure she'd make it out. But then a piece of debris bit the wheel and shot up into the ear, coming back down and hitting the top of Y/N's helmet.

Suddenly, things were scary. The car came to a stop, pieces of it all over the track. "Y/N, are you okay?" Asked her engineer.

She didn't respond.

"Y/N? If you can hear me, please say something?"

Again, nothing. The Mercedes team were beginning to get worried.

***

"Red flag, Lando. That's a red flag," said Lando's engineer.

"What happened?" He asked as everybody pulled into the pitlane.

His engineer took a minute to answer. The team didn't know what was best, to tell Lando and have him freaking out, or to let him find out on his own.

"Uh, there's a Mercedes with some damage," the engineer said.

Lando's face went pale inside of his helmet. He knew the car in front of him was Hamilton, meaning the only other Mercedes on the track was...

Lando parked the car in the pitlane, the same as everybody else. He immediately climbed out of the car and started running. His engineer and the McLaren team tried to stop him, but Lando was still running. It was hot inside of his helmet, but nothing was going to stop him.

When Lando got down there, she still hadn't been pulled from the car, the debris was being removed, but Y/N wasn't. "Baby!" He shouted and ran over.

The stewards tried to hold him back, but Lando pushed them away. He began trying to pull her out of his car. As soon as they saw what he was doing they began helping him, pulling Y/N's limp body out of the car.

Limp, but not lifeless. At least, that was what the paramedics said as they lifted her into the ambulance.

Lando didn't want to attend the rest of the race. He couldn't concentrate as he waited for the race to restart. "Let Pato drive," he mumbled as he waited for news from the hospital. Nothing, and that was making him so fucking worried.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Running to You

Word count: 725

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: In the midst of a bustling paddock, Y/n, Lando’s biggest supporter, cheers him on with boundless pride, proving that to her, he’s already a champion—no matter the results.

______________________________________________________________

When Lando’s lap time solidified on the board, Y/n’s heart practically exploded with pride. She didn’t care that this was just qualifying — every single session felt monumental because she saw the effort he put in every day. With a laugh that was half a cry, she sprinted toward him, pushing through the paddock crowd until she was within arm’s reach.

“Lando!” she shouted, her voice trembling with excitement. He turned at the sound, and his face softened immediately as he saw her coming, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n didn’t slow down; she flung herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he caught her effortlessly, pulling her close with a warm laugh.

“Oh my God, Lando, you were amazing!” she cried, her voice full of tears as she clung to him. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cradled her against him. “Hey, it’s just quali, love,” he murmured softly, but his eyes shone with happiness.

“To me, it’s everything,” she replied, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Her hands gently cupped his face, and she spoke so only he could hear. “You’re my champion, Lando. Every single lap, every single session, you give your all, and it’s incredible. I don’t need a title to know how amazing you are.”

He gazed at her, speechless for a moment, his eyes glistening with the emotion he didn’t often let himself show. “You make all of this worth it, you know,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Having you here… it’s like having my own little victory every day.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with happy tears, and she was about to reply when she heard a familiar voice call out, breaking into their little bubble.

“Oi, Lando, is your girlfriend crying for you or for your time?” George Russell teased, grinning from a few feet away, arms crossed as he watched them. Around him, a few other drivers had started to gather, each one of them wearing that familiar, playful grin that made Y/n roll her eyes.

She turned, standing a bit taller as she faced them, holding tightly onto Lando’s hand. “Oh, please,” she called out, waving them off. “As if any of you could pull off a lap like that!”

Pierre Gasly chuckled, feigning hurt as he nudged George. “Hey, I put in a pretty decent lap myself!”

“Sure, Pierre, but where’s your biggest fan?” Y/n teased right back, raising an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got someone who’d sprint across the paddock to scream for you?”

The drivers all laughed, exchanging looks with each other, but Y/n could tell they knew they’d lost this one. Yuki Tsunoda raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. We get it. Lando’s got a personal cheerleader, and the rest of us just have to live with that.”

Y/n grinned, crossing her arms as she leaned into Lando, who was laughing, his face red with both pride and embarrassment. “Exactly,” she replied with a smirk. “And I’ll be cheering louder than any of you guys can handle, so get used to it.”

Carlos Sainz gave a playful shrug, laughing. “Guess we know who’s winning the fan section today.”

As the drivers moved on, still chuckling and throwing each other good-natured teasing glances, Y/n turned back to Lando, feeling the world around them melt away again. She looked up at him, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she took a breath, her smile softening. “They can tease all they want,” she murmured. “But no one will ever understand how proud I am of you.”

He placed his hand over hers, his gaze tender as he looked down at her. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I got so lucky,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I just know that having you here… it makes me feel like I’ve already won.”

Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, and she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. “Well, get used to it,” she replied softly, brushing a hand across his cheek. “I’m always going to be here, cheering for you. In every race, every qualifying, every single lap… you’re my champion, Lando.”

“Good,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

[magics-neptunes-things]

Shinning Like the Sun

Hi guys!

I have the new chant for Mariona in my head since yesterday, so this is my way to try to get ride of it 😂

It's kind of short and only fluff, I hope you'll enjoy it :)

Also if someone can tell me who make those gif, I try to find it back on Tumblr but I wasn't able to 😭

You smile while watching your girlfriend, walking behind her for twenty meters. You both just won your second game with Arsenal for the Champions League, and you feel like Mariona is literally glowing.

She’s walking with Vic, Vivienne Lia and Laia, all happily japing around. You know that she might be a little disappointed not to have scored today either, but she seems so happy right now that your heart clench with love for her.

Her move in north London had surprise a lot of people, she passed ten years of her life in Barcelona, in the same club. She was a very important player for the club, but she still chooses to come in Arsenal. You won’t complain about it, having your girlfriend after two years of being apart is something you really enjoy.

You both had a long discussion before her move, you wanted to be sure that she’s making this for the good reasons, not only for you. You were scared, you still are, that she realizes at one point how it was better when you just have the happily reunions and fun and sweet holidays together.

It seems to be perfect for now, but you are living apart of each other, even if you have to admit that the night you slept separately weren’t majority. Far from it to be honest.

It’s for the same reasons that you stay away from her for now, letting her enjoy her moment with the people who seems to become easily friends with her. You aren’t surprised, Mariona is sweet, kind, funny and always smiling. You feel like she took Barcelona’s sun with her.

“Staying away from the missus?”

You turn in the direction of the voice, smiling softly when you see Katie and Caitlin walking next to you. You shrug softly, you know it’s only a friendly teasing. They both tried to hide their relationship last year, before giving up and living their life like they wanted. It seems to be a pretty great idea, considering how happy they are.

“I just want to let her live her moment; you know?”

They both smile for any answer, and you look in Mario’s direction again. She’s now laughing with Alessia about something, probably the song Arsenal’s fan cooked for her. It probably will stay in your head for days, but you like it for now.

You walk around the pitch with Alessia and Kyra, before joining the rest of the team to hear a quick speech from Jonas. Leah smiles at you and pinch your ribs, like she always did when you played together and played well. It was the case today, you are pretty happy about your performance tonight.

When Jonas release all of you, Gooners are waiting for pictures and signatures, which you do happily. There are more people than when you began to play, but you like make people and kids happy. It’s only several minutes of your time and you enjoy it almost every time. You manage to spot the creeps pretty easily.

You gave your jersey to a little girl with cute blue eyes and a big smile, and you are in a black sport bra when you finally went to the locker room to take a shower and change. You spot Mariona not far from you, making her way probably in the same place and run to catch her.

When you are behind her, you pass your arms around her waist, tiptoeing to be able to kiss her cheek from behind. Her smile is beaming, and you are smiling too.

“Shake it Caldentey” you sing-tease her, your cheek against hers, your front against her back.

She laughs and manages to escape your arms, only to take her coat off. The weather isn’t awful tonight but it’s still way colder than Barcelona, so you aren’t surprised to see Mario wearing one of them. You didn’t expect her to put it on your shoulders, though.

“Aren’t you cold?” you ask, tightening the number 8’s coat around your body.

“A little, but you are the one half-naked here”

You hum and offer her one arm for her to side-cuddle while walking inside the tunnel going to the locker room. She doesn’t hesitate to go against you, and you went to kiss her cheek but sloppily went for somewhere behind her jaw and her neck. For your defense, you both were walking.

The Spaniard doesn’t seem to mind though, passing her arm around your waist for the last meters separating you from the locker room. You can hear the laughs and the music coming from it already.

You let Mariona go with a hint of regret when you are inside it, but you are soon taken by Kyra to dance around the room. Steph manages to save you from her after several minutes, letting you go take a shower. When you finish to prepare yourself, Mariona comes to sit on your cubby, quietly waiting for you.

“Are you both coming to have a drink?” Kyra asks you, suddenly popping next to you again.

“Oh” you say, glancing at Mariona.

To be honest, you would rather go somewhere with your girlfriend only. Maybe ordering something and relax in front of a movie. But maybe Mariona wants to go out with your teammates, you don’t want to deprive her of a good night.

You silently look at each other for several seconds, you trying to read into your girlfriend’s warm eyes.

“I… think… that we will go home” you answer slowly, still looking at Mariona.

The forward smiles at you and nod discreetly, filling you with relief when you understand that you have managed to correctly decipher her thoughts and wants.

“Ok Oldies, like you want”

You shush Kyra away with a foot on her ass, turning in Mario’s direction. She’s smiling again and you sometimes wonder how she never gets to hurt her cheeks. She stands up when you put your last things in your bag and grabs your hand when you leave, saying goodbye to everyone.

Leah and Beth keep you company until you reach your car, sharing a small talk with you. The night has fall for several hours now and the streetlights are on when you drive to leave the stadium.

“Yours or mine?” you ask her.

“Yours” she doesn’t hesitate. “Can I put some music?”

“Of course.”

You smile and roll your eyes when she puts some Spanish music on your Spotify. Since you know her, your algorithm doesn’t have any sense, but you like it. It was always nice to have a reminder of your girlfriend when you were driving around and she still lived in Barcelona.

To win some time, Mario looks for what you want to eat when you will be home. You let her choose and she’s still smiling when she passes your command. When you finally reach your house, you sigh of complacency before getting out of the car. You are living in St-Albans, like a lot of your teammates, in a semi-detached house with a garden.

You abandon your bag with your dirty clothes in the bathroom, choosing to make the laundry tomorrow. Mariona’s bag is waiting next to yours.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken a flat finally” Mariona comments with a grin from your couch.

You smile too, sitting next to her before cuddling against her. Her body is always warm and welcoming for you and you love it. You usually are more cold than warm so it’s the perfect contrast for you. You smile when she passes her hand under your hoodie, snuggling even more closer to her. You take advantage of your position to look at her, prodigiously ignoring the movie she had choose.

“You seem happy” you say carefully, not wanting to assume things.

She puts her eyes on you and smile softly before putting some hair behind your ear. Her touch send you shivers. She could have understand your sentence as happy right now, but she seems to catch what you mean easily.

“I am” she smiles. “It was hard to leave Barcelona after all this time, but London has even more to offer than I thought”

“Yeah?”

She nods, still smiling. You are looking deep in her eyes when you open your mouth again.

“So still no regrets?”

“No.”

Her hand stayed on your neck after she touch your hair and she uses it to take softly your face against her, kissing you lovingly. While you expend the kiss, she strokes your jaw with her thumb.

“I told you, I was sure it was what I needed. It’s not a surprise for me to see I was right.”

You smile shyly and kiss her one more time before getting back in your first position, you spread on her body. Unfortunately, this moment doesn’t last because soon the bell of your door is ringing in the house, making you jump.

“El sushi está aquí!”

You smile while looking at your girlfriend almost jumping to the door and gets up to go to your kitchen, to grab some extra soja sauce for the sushis. Salty for you, sweet for Mariona. You grab some things to drink too, finding Mariona on your couch, carefully opening the boxes she had choose. You let her decide, you have almost the same tastes for food. Except for soja sauce, maybe.

“I’ll cook something Spanish for you next time” Mariona says after several minutes.

You like to cook to be honest, but just after the games you don’t have necessarily the courage to do it. It’s easier to just use Uber Eat and chill on your couch while you are waiting for your food.

“I’ll help you” you smile.

Like this, you will be able to cook for her too. You don’t know any Spanish receipt but it’s not really a good excuse, you have a Smartphone, and you know how to read. Maybe you could surprise her with a tortilla or something like that. You really need to extend your knowledge on Spanish cooking.

That’s what you discreetly do when your plates are empty, and you are watching another movie. Mariona is now lying on you, her breathing slow and deep, informing you that she might have fall asleep. But you don’t mind.

Playing with her hair with one hand, you are scrolling in a website dedicated to Spain food and you learn a lot of things. Remembering where exactly your girlfriend comes from, you even search for specialties from Mallorca. You might not be able to find every ingredient of the receipts, but you will try your best to bring her some Spain touch in North London.

[spiriteddreams]

thinking about sassy and teasing boxer!wrio... f!reader, slightly cheesy flirting (as you can imagine)

thinking about boxer!wrio, a frequent at the gym that your father, former lawyer neuvillette, owns. you decide to spend some more time with your father to help run the gym when you meet wriothesely, the sassy, uncrowned champion of the boxing ring.

initially he takes no care that you’re around, he figures you’re just someone neuvillette ended up hiring to help out around the place part time. you’re interesting, he’ll give you that, with the way you walk around far too comfortably as if you know the place like the back of your hand. and you talk to neuvillette with such familiarity, dare he say informality, that he can’t help but wonder who you are. and the moment he discovers that you’re his neuvillette’s daughter, suddenly he’s even more intrigued. and he can’t help but start talking to you more, about school and work and everything in between. he tries to get you to call him “your grace,” the nickname he’s garnered after climbing up the ranks but each time, you roll your eyes and tell him off. it only spurs him further.

but conversation continues with each time you meet and he tells you about what he’s what to outside of the ring, while slowly taking note of all the little things you say and your mannerisms when you’re grinning up at him from behind the front desk or when you’re watching him and some of the others train in the ring. and after awhile, he can’t help but start to like you, not just because you’re pretty, but also because you don’t take his shit. and even when you do, you throw it back right in his face. 

“take your words to the ring, i have no intention of humoring you, wriothesley,” you sigh behind the front desk computer, which hides an open notebook full of notes and annotations. he loves the way his name sounds from your lips, drawing out each syllable as if trying to taste it. you say his name with exasperation and slight annoyance, but he can still catch that hint of amusement in your tone.

his flirty approaches might have initially been met with a flustered look on your face, but not you don’t even bat an eye at his sly comments. neuvillette however, shoots wrio a glare everytime he starts to say something he thinks could be flirtatious.

boxer!wrio, who comes in one early morning to help bring in some new equipment for the gym. and you’re sitting with your father at the front, drinking water and chatting when wrio walks in, shirtless, muscles on full display, sweaty and oh so gorgeous and you can’t help but choke on your drink, so clearly staring at the view.

“put on a shirt young man!” neuvilette’s thundering voice echoes throughout the room.

and much to his dismay, wrio is feeling particularly dangerous that day and says, “but i think she’s quite enjoying the view.” you feel your face warm as your father glares at you before turning back to give wrio a piece of his mind, already telling him off as he follows the boxer towards the back room where he can place down the boxes and then be chewed out by your father. but wrio thinks it’ll all be worth it because your expression was priceless. 

he's used to people ogling him when he's training or fighting in the ring, whether or not he has a shirt on. but he can't help but sneak a look whenever you're around, trying to catch your wandering eyes to see if you're eyeing him too. and when he does catch you, he straightens up, tilts his head and throws you an arrogant smile.

"see something you like, princess?" he calls out boldly. other customers either look away or chuckle at the now familiar sight and sound of wrio's teasing. the times when neuvillette is there, he snaps at the boxer sharply then turns to you, eyes twitching with annoyance as he tells you to get back to work. you know he means well, and you know wrio only does it to rile up your father. and to flirt, you suppose.

boxer!wrio, who, one afternoon on his way out, makes sure to stop by the front desk to linger around you. it just so happens that you’re getting ready to leave for the day. fresh from a rinse with hair dripping wet and wolfish grin plastered across his face, wrio leans over the front desk, cocky as ever and asks if you’d like to grab a bite with him. he catches sight of the way your eyes narrow and quickly flicker over to where your father stands on the other side of the gym, working with another customer. for a second he thinks you might bail, but much to his delight your shoulders loosen and you smile at him and say, “where are we off to, your grace?”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: i have SO many more boxer!wrio thoughts to share hehe

[vettelsdarling]

Hiiii can I get a request for Lando basically a sunshine x grumpy where the reader is a new driver that wants 0 distractions and ruled out dating any drivers and so she gets along with everyone but is more distant with Lando because she knows if they get close she’ll fall in love with him but she can’t afford any distractions but he still puts in effort to get to know her and making her smile etc despite her pushing him away and they have this moment and idk you can finish it however you like plsss and thanks!

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Lissie note… Hey there! This is a really cute idea, I love the thought of Lando pining!! Thank you for the creative freedom to finish it off however I feel!

Things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season, but not in the same timeline(?) you'll see

Reader isn’t completely new to Formula One, but it’s her first time on the grid as a driver (she’s been a reserve driver)

Reader is a few months/a year younger than Lando

Reader is a Red Bull driver

Pairing: Sunshine!Pining!Lando x Grumpy!Serious!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, Pretty angsty, J*s Verstappen

Word Count: 6.5k+

Recommended playlists: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Formula One. A bloodsport, really. Vicious and dangerous. Somehow you’d managed to rise through the ranks and get there. Even earning a place next to Max Verstappen, the second-youngest world champion. Christian Horner, your team boss, was the kind of person who nursed his drivers as if they were his own children. You yearned for the proud look on his face. Not just for him, but for yourself. 

Growing up in a middle-class family, you weren’t as privileged as other kids in karting. Your mother worked tirelessly to support you, whilst your father took you to each race. Now that you’d finally made it to Formula One, you wanted to do everything you could to pay them back. They had given the better part of their lives up so that you could live yours the way you desired.

Winning a championship in Formula One had always been a childhood dream of yours.

… and you were not about to give up on that dream anytime soon.

You, Max, and Horner had come to an agreement: Max would help you win as much as possible. Nobody and absolutely nobody was to get in your way. Max promised to make sure of that. Since you were younger than him, he treated you like a younger sister, whilst still treating you as an equal. Given the fact that he had a sister, he was great at it.

You were in your car. It was the first qualifying of the season, and you felt all of your nerves tense up. It was your first ever feel for Formula One besides sim racing. You’d been stuck as a reserve driver for nearly 2 years— safe to say, you were relieved to finally get a seat. Max and Lewis had just been dominating too much. However, this year was yours and yours alone. You were determined to shine, and you would take down anyone who so much as breathed a hint of threat your way.

You were released and you started your out lap. The tyres felt smooth and the car was completely in sync with you. It was nothing like sim racing, and nothing like Formula 2 either. You’d done practice runs several times before, but there was something about the real deal that elevated the experience that much more. You knew there was a lot of pressure on you for qualifying. Mainly due to the fact that Max had no way of helping you. It was every man for himself, and there was no way you were going to get kicked in Q1. 

“You doing alright?” You heard your engineer say. It made you get distracted, and you accidentally exceeded track limits.

“Well, now I’m not! Shut it, please.” Well, shit. You knew that blunder would be noted immediately. It was surely a deletion of your time. Therefore, you decided to push. Hard.

The next lap was a go, and you worked your way meticulously around every corner, hitting every apex just right. You were determined to make it into Q3. No matter what it took.

You got one final time in, and it was announced by your radio that you made it into Q2, placing P5. You weren’t the type to scream out with joy, so you merely thanked them for the notice.

Q2 began, and you barely made it through to Q3, placing P10.

What nobody expected was your spirit. If you wanted something, you were going to get it.

“Okay, we’ve notified Max that he should try to slow down a bit, to possibly get you a pole position. This way, we can also help you from behind in the race.” 

“Copy.” Your chest felt ticklish with adrenaline, and you pushed harder than before. You did everything you could. Your body felt as if it had been fused to the car. You were getting the fastest sector time left and right. It was exhilarating.

“That’s a pole! Great job! We did it!” Your engineer screamed into your ear with excitement. It was deafening, but that didn’t matter. It felt so good.

“Thanks for the help, guys.”

The front row consisted of you, Max, and Lando Norris; a driver from McLaren. You hadn’t really conversed with him much before. Except one time. Max had invited you to attend the end-of-year party a year back. Lando barely managed to introduce himself before he was interrupted by the Dutchman.

After Lando finished his interview, he moved back to where you were waiting patiently for your turn.

“I hear you’re into brunettes?” You were, but you hadn’t told anyone. Which could only have meant that it was his go-to pick-up line. Lame, if anything. 

“Did you also hear I’m into guys who don’t bother me?” It wasn’t a matter of teasing him or playing hard to get. You simply had no time for something as frivolous as dating on the grid. It was pointless and would only serve as a distraction when you had to stay focused.

“Cute.” It almost felt repulsive to hear him say that. You’d never really been in a relationship other than the many situation-ships you’d allowed yourself to fall victim to in your Formula 2 days.

When your turn finally came, you shook David’s hand with a smile. Adrenaline was still making its rounds throughout your system.

“You did an amazing job today, surely you must be excited!” David was such a gentle and warm soul, so you decided to lay off the colder side for a little.

“I feel amazing, really, I’m over the moon!” You grinned. He asked you some generic questions and you gave him appropriate responses for each.

“You’re the first woman in a long time to have raced in Formula One, you should be proud,” he finished off, before letting you go.

Max slung his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the Red Bull motorhome. Christian greeted you at the door on his way out, pulling you into a big bear hug and thanking Max for the sacrifice. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the leather couches in front of the small flatscreen that was inside.

“Max, I really hope it’s okay for you to do all of this for me…” You looked over at Max who was scrolling through the channels.

“Of course, I’ll do it for you. We’re teammates. Besides, it would’ve been wrong if you weren’t talented and couldn’t actually take me on… but you can… so…” He started trailing off as he got a phone call. It seemed to be his father, so he immediately answered it. Of all feelings, you were definitely not surprised by the angry bickering coming from his father through the phone. The look on Max’s face was all but whipped with joy.

When the call ended, you tried to find the right words to comfort him. It was rather hard though, as you’d never really experienced his situation before.

“… I’m here if you want to talk about it?” That was really all you could offer. But your support meant everything to Max, who had made quite the impression on track. Fans saw him as a hot-headed brute, with nothing on his mind but winning.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.” His demeanour had completed a full 360°.

“Well, in any case, if you ever happen to need someone… you know I’ll always be right here.” Without warning, you pulled your brother figure into a warm hug, rubbing his back gently. You’d only ever met his dad a couple of times, but both times were horrible. The man was stone cold. He was intimidating to you.

To celebrate your pole in qualifying, Max had invited you out for dinner with a couple of friends. He said you knew who they were, but still, you felt off about it.

Your hair cascaded down upon your shoulders, masking your exposed collarbone from your little black dress. It was a simple dinner dress you’d brought along for the trip. Your makeup was light but accentuated your features to the fullest extent. Your shoes were designer and matched your padded Prada mini-bag. You threw on a black blazer to complete the look. Flawless.

Max had texted you the address of the restaurant along with the time. You jumped in a cab and gave the driver the information. The cab driver was chatty. He talked about his family, mentioning the fact that he had twin daughters who had just started middle school. You zoned out on the rest of his chatter though. The thoughts of dining with Max’s friends felt daunting somehow.

When you finally arrived, you were already late. You’d been too busy zoning out to notify your teammate. Upon walking in, you saw a fancy vined wall with several pictures of celebrities who’d visited the establishment. Amongst them was a picture of Max and the Brit who’d tried to hit on you. Lando Norris. A waiter approached you with a polite smile and a guest list.

“Oh, um… Max Verstappen?” You also made sure to mention your name so as to not stir any confusion or suspicions. You could’ve easily been mistaken for a fan.

“Right this way, miss.” He led you to a quiet room in the back. It was likely reserved for the restaurant’s VIPs. There you laid eyes on Max and Daniel Ricciardo… but Lando Norris too?! A wave of relief washed over you, as you realized you knew them somewhat.

“Max, you didn’t tell me she would be here?” Lando took the view in with delight, smirking as you noticed it. You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside Max. Unfortunately, that seat was across from curly-haired Brit. 

“It was a surprise. We’re actually celebrating her first pole today.”  You felt slightly embarrassed, almost like people singing you birthday songs.

“Max, isn’t this just rubbing another Red Bull win in our faces?” Asked Daniel. He was obviously joking, so you shot him a playful glare, chuckling shortly after.

After a while, Daniel and Max had gotten deep into their conversation, which left you to deal with Lando. He’d stolen several glances of you throughout the dinner and it didn’t seem like he was planning to stop. You took it as your opportunity to strike up some small talk. All in hopes to get him to stop staring.

“You should stop staring, my image might get burned into your retina.” He didn’t even bother blinking. His eyes moved from your figure to your eyes.

“I think that’d be a blessing, no?” You scoffed at his reply. You saw it as nothing but a foolish attempt at flirtation— which you didn’t appreciate. Sure, you were off-track, but that didn’t mean you had time for meaningless distractions. Lando gave off a clear vibe that he was nothing but a hindrance to your ultimate goal of becoming a champion.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that,” he smirked and slightly leaned back in his seat.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.” He was truly impossible to communicate with. Every sentence was a pick-up line to some degree. 

“I’m not interested in you, Norris.” He seemed to completely disregard the message you sent, as a smile grew on his face the moment you uttered his last name.

“Glad to know you know my name, Miss Red Bull.” Admittedly, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and his small chuckles were cuter than you wanted to acknowledge.

“You should let me take you home after this.”

“You don’t even know me.” Contrary to your belief, that wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly who you were. He and Max were close friends after all. But the real kicker was; he’d been into you for much longer than he led on.

His infatuation first started in the early stages of the 2021 season, when he’d see you wandering around the tracks on weekdays. He’d seen you in the Red Bull garages, usually deep in conversation with one of the engineers. He’d asked about you from multiple people. That included the big man himself; Christian Horner. Though, Christian encouraged him to stop asking around and just strike up a conversation with you. However, Lando never actually found the time to approach you. You were always surrounded by mechanics and the media. It was simply impossible to get to you. It was almost like you were a national treasure. Pretty to look at, but that was all he could do.

“Trust me, I know you.” For a moment, you got lost in those dashing eyes of his. He returned your gaze, only looking into what would be considered the windows to your soul. Could he read you? Could he understand that you didn’t want him? Did you want him?

“You’re incredible up close.” 

“Excuse me?” You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been stuck in as soon as those words left his pouty lips. That statement was creepy if anything, and not flattering in the slightest… or was it?

“That’s a pretty off-putting thing to say, you know?” This luckily caught the attention of Max who’d finished off with Daniel. The two of them turned their heads your way to join in.

“What’s off-putting?”

“Oh, we were just talking about how obsessed Lando is with me.” You said it in a joking manner, but everyone’s faces went semi-pale. Especially Lando’s.

“So he finally talked to you? I’m glad I don’t have to answer any more of his idiotic questions.” Your mouth went dry at his words, and Lando’s face turned a rose colour. As if all air conditioning had been turned off on a hot summer’s day.

“Excuse me?” You’d lost your appetite, making your curiosity the only reason you had to stay. That and your appreciation for Max having paid for the dinner that was supposed to serve as a celebration.

“I- um…” Lando was reasonably hesitant to say anything.

“Well… I was just referring to his constant flirting. I didn’t believe it was deep or anything but… um… you know what? This was nice, Max. Truly. I think I’d like to get home. I’m absolutely drained.” You sighed with a screwed smile on your lip. You gathered your things and pushed your chair in. Despite your friend’s heavy protests, you left and got a cab for yourself. 

Leaving on an empty stomach hadn’t been the plan, so you had no choice but to stop by a grocery store. Many in the area had salads ready to go. It was no five-star meal, but it had to suffice.

Of course, you felt awful for leaving early, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself stray away from your goal. Lando was attractive, you couldn’t stand there and lie to yourself, but that was all the more reason to stay away. Well, besides the point that you barely knew the guy. The flirtatious comments and borderline creepy behaviour were nothing to you. It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to ignore. As long as he stayed out of your way.

Except he didn’t.

The following morning, you had a couple of missed messages from Max. He’d been worried after you took off. You were too frazzled and in a hurry to respond. There was no time left before the briefing back at the motorhome. Being punctual meant that you showed an interest. It meant that you showed passion. You were not going to let some silly McLaren driver ruin it for you. That was simply not your style and would never be.

When you got there, everyone was already gathered. They’d been waiting for you to arrive. Honest, but embarrassing mistake. You wanted to let out a slew of self-insulting jabs. Lucky for you, it didn’t last too long, and you were on to start prepping for the race.

“Hey, are you okay?” A certain Dutchman tapped your shoulder and spun you around when you weren’t responsive. The look he saw in your eyes spoke volumes. Notes that you wish weren’t easily revealed. The eyes didn’t lie. They never did.

“I’m fine, I just really want to focus on winning. I don’t have time for whatever Lando is trying to drag me into.” You sighed as the two of you walked to the motorhome.

“Look, I know you haven’t known him for long, but maybe try to get along with him? You don’t have to accept his shitty flirting. He’s my best friend and so are you… it’s really awkward that you can’t even be around him.” True. You had acted somewhat irresponsibly, but you certainly weren’t the only guilty party in that. 

“Fine, but under one condition. You tell him to stop being so flirtatious with me. I hate it.”

“Deal.”

The race ended with a lucky pole position. Somehow, you’d gotten away with defending yourself from none other than your little McLaren fan. As much as you enjoyed your national anthem being played and spraying champagne— you felt so empty. It felt like a worthless celebration. All because you knew you’d been underperforming. You hadn’t given it your all, yet Lando still kept behind you. Of course, with Max behind him, there was nothing for you to worry about. Both drivers were amazing when it came to defending their place, but you just couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gone for the win. It was right there. Right within reach. It was so close, his beautiful curved lips could touch it. It didn’t make sense to you, nobody would be stupid enough to sacrifice coming out on top. You didn’t believe it. You simply didn’t even want to.

Lando became unavoidable. As more races were won by you and some by Max, it was finally time for the summer break. 3 weeks of much-needed rest.

… what you thought would be a relaxing 3 weeks, turned out to be the most stressful weeks of your life.

Max had texted you on short notice to come over for dinner, as Kelly had made too big of a batch of gnocchi. Since you lived walking distance from him, you didn’t see any harm in coming over. Kelly wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world, but it wasn’t like she was insufferable. She was still a nice person… somewhat.

Max greeted you at the door, having Penelope run up behind him to say hi. You might’ve not been the biggest fan of her mother, but she was such a cute little thing. You took her up into your arms and smiled,

“Hi there ‘P’!”

Your smile quickly faded though. The Brit from McLaren came into view from behind Max, and it was almost as if all of your spirits had been sucked out of you like the marrow of a bone. It was something of a consolation, however, that he stayed silent. He just stood there and watched as you played around with Penelope. The toddler was full of energy.

“Come come, the gnocchi is ready.” You put the girl down and followed them into the dining room. Kelly had plated everything and had taken the liberty to sit across from Max. You had no choice but to sit next to her. It wouldn’t exactly make sense for her to be sitting next to Lando.

“Kelly, I must say you are an amazing cook, this looks fantastic!” Fake it until you make it. In all honesty, though, she was a great cook.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing lately.” It felt like deja vu when the couple got into talking. There was just you, Lando, and Penelope.

“I think I should apologize for… everything?” Lando suddenly spoke. You scanned his face, his hair, his outfit. Were you in trouble? Perhaps.

“You know what, Kelly? I think I’ll help tuck Penelope in!” You got up from your seat and politely put down your cutlery.

“Oh, sure. Thank you. It’s way past her bedtime.” She smiled at you and signalled for Penelope to come with you before she turned back to Max.

Lando had the guts to follow you into Penelope’s bedroom. He watched as you lifted the little girl up into your arms and placed her carefully on the duvets that covered her bed. She was already in her pyjamas, which made your job all the more easy. He took the chance to sit next to you on the bed, as you stroked the toddler’s cheek.

“Are you really going to avoid me forever?” He said in a quiet whisper, not wanting to disturb the girl from dozing off into the gentle night.

“You’re a fool if you let relationships taint your path to victory… in my opinion.” You turned your head to look at him. The moonlight shining from the gaps in the blinds complimented his dancing eyes. They looked at you. Your figure. Your facial features. They admired you as if you were a priceless piece of art at a gallery.

“You must’ve led a pretty sad life up until now.” He wasn’t right. You’d been around love and laughter for the better part of your life. You weren’t that lonely… were you?

“Lando… we don’t even—”

“Don’t tell me we don’t know each other. You know me and I know you. This isn’t like all those months ago. We’ve been in social settings together more than I can count on my fingers. You and I know each other.” He was obviously desperate. It made sense when thinking of the massive crush he’d had on you thus far. You did feel a tinge of guilt knowing you had to turn him down no matter what.

“Lando, please don’t do this.”

“I apologize for being so forward, okay? How about we begin with a friendship, huh? That’s what Max would want anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. That’s what Max had asked of you several months ago, but you’d only been distant.

You got along with everyone pretty well. Mick was someone you would chat with every time you saw him on race weekends. Sebastian was like an older brother. Lewis, although your biggest competition, was a good buddy too. You were always hanging around Pierre and Kika too. There were no hard feelings between you and pretty much all of the other drivers. Except for Lando.

As much as you hated admitting it, Lando’s charms had taken a massive effect on you. His flirtatious little comments were nothing short of annoying, but you loved the banter. You loved his energy, his radiant laugh whenever Max would hurl jokes his way. You loved his smirk whenever you rejected his advances.

Over just a couple of months, you found yourself needing to avoid him. So you did. As more time passed, Lando must’ve started to notice, because he dialled his game up by the tenths. Avoiding him became an impossible mission. He seemed to be everywhere. If you went to the Red Bull motorhome, he was there with Max. If you went to the garage, he was there with Max. Even on-track he was right behind you in your slipstream. He was always chasing you. You only had one other option left— to act completely apathetic and aloof. Which brought you right to the confrontation in front of a little toddler trying to fall asleep.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Just go, okay?” Your heart clenched as he gave you a disappointed smile.

“If that’s what you want.”

That night you couldn’t fall asleep. It was impossible. Whilst you didn’t harbour any real feelings for Lando, you knew you’d fall hard if you spent any more time with him. Your mind was supposed to be focused on winning, but instead of that— you were stuck on him. You didn’t want to fall for him. You didn’t have time for that. There was only one person that mattered, and that was you. Only you.

“Is he really that bad?” Kika asked as she took a sip of her coffee, placing it on the plastic coaster on the wooden table. You’d invited her over for a sleepover of sorts. Mainly what became an accidental therapy session,

“You know, I came here to Monaco to explore. Why are we sitting here and sulking? Lando isn’t all that bad.”

“Yes, Kika, he is! He keeps trying to get close to me, and when I reject him he makes me feel so guilty for doing so.” Your face was squished against the table, signalling your utter defeat in the matter. You were at a complete loss. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Sounds to me like you have a thing for him, no?” Kika was a voice of reason in many situations, but this was not acceptable to you. Denial and delusion was the only solution.

“Never. I want to win a championship, not go fool around with some British guy from a midfield team.” Harsh, but you had to say it. Saying it didn’t exactly have an effect on the situation, but it made you feel better.

“I don’t see any quick fix to this, honestly.” You groaned at her words, wanting your misery to end.

“Come on, relationships take time. I should know, I’m with Pierre.” Pierre wasn’t Lando though. She and he were meant to be. It was as if they were put on the planet to be with each other. You, on the other hand, were put on the planet to win. Lando was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” she finally said and sighed. You sprung up and looked at her with wide eyes,

“Really?”

“Really. Now listen. I’ll set up a double date thing, okay?”

“Wait what? No! Kika, no. That’s only going to make it worse. Why would you do that?” Your head dropped again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

“I do…”

“Then let me do my thing, and sit tight.” It was her win. You just wanted to get Lando out of the way. Any lengths were necessary if it meant being able to blow right past the Brit.

A week passed before the supposed ‘double date’, and you were not feeling it one bit. Lando wasn’t even all that close with Kika and Pierre. Not as close as you were. You’d end up being the only reason he’d have to stay.

Sadly you realized that fact too late. You were sat with Kika and Pierre at a fancy seafood place down by the harbour. Lando had noted that he’d be late, which gave the three of you some time to discuss some last-minute details. It was imperative that he’d be completely out of the equation by the end of the date.

It wasn’t so much the question of whether or not you’d fallen for him. No, it was whether you could ignore it altogether. Completely shut out any little squeak from your heart when it tugs at the sight of him. Which is just did.

You saw him walking through the door with a casual, but not too casual outfit. His curls were slightly slicked back and his smile was as radiant as ever. You couldn’t stand the sight of him. It was repulsive. Was it not? It made you sick. Did it not?

When he took a seat next to Pierre, across from you, it was hard to not look at him. Oh, but how badly you wanted to. Then again— you didn’t. You hated the fact that Kika had some diabolical plan in mind. One that probably went against everything you stood for.

“Well! Now that Lando’s here, we should order appetizers!” She pulled out the menu and casually looked through the variety of foods.

Whilst she ordered for the four of you, Pierre gave you a nervous look and slightly peered over at Lando, who luckily had his nose buried in his phone. Likely some business stuff. You could only mouth ‘What do I do?’ to which the Frenchman replied with a shrug and a miserable look on his face. He knew just as much as you, that this date would end up in a knot of awkward silences and unfinished sentences.

“Lando, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. You know, given this girl’s obvious distaste for you.” You nearly snapped your neck, as she pointed at you. Oh, how you wanted someone to interrupt your date. Anyone. Lando put his phone away, sighed, and looked at you with a small smile, before giving her a reply,

“I don’t care if I’m being completely honest. I’ve done it for months. I can go for years if I have to.” Kika had seriously misinterpreted Lando’s intentions and how badly he actually wanted you. Your version of the situation had him painted in an entirely different light after all. You made him out to be some meaningless player. Which, by the sound of things, wasn’t his style at all.

“I was under the impression he was trying to play you! That’s why this date would’ve worked out to get him off your back. What is this?!” Kika whisper-yelled. Everything was messed up. Way off course. The plan had gone to shit within less than an hour.

“Well… I really don’t like him, so isn’t there something you can do?” You whispered back. The two of you both realized that the guys were able to see you whispering back and forth, so she hauled you into the ladies’ room. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you.

“Do you want the truth or a sugar-coated lie?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“The truth?” You were conflicted though. Did you actually want the truth? Did you already know it? Did you perhaps just bury it deep within the darkest chambers of your pitiful little lonely soul? Were you so obsessed with rising to the top, that relationships truly didn’t matter?

“You like him. No, it’s more than just an infatuation. You’re head over heels for him. The way you looked at him when he walked in? I saw it. Pierre saw it. The waiters saw it! Open your eyes.” Hearing it from another person really put things into perspective, and it didn’t sit right with you. All your life you were used to pushing people away. Silly little childhood crushes would stay exactly that; crushes. You never let anything go beyond the first stage.

“Kika… I don’t know,” you groaned and turned on the faucet, splashing some water on your face.

“Come on, let’s get back to them. They’re waiting for us.”

After sitting back down, Lando tried to give you a curt smile. It was awkward and the pressure was rising. It was hard to stay within 10 feet of the guy.

“I remember when I first started falling for Pierre. It was really something… how about you, Lando? When did you start having a thing for her?” Oh please, Kika seemed too determined to let it go. A part of you liked that, but the other part felt its gut screaming in agony.

“It’s been more than a year or so now, actually… it’s a little hard to explain.” With that, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You apologized and left the setting abruptly. It was far too much for you, and you just knew your heart would give out.

As you walked out of the restaurant and started looking for a cab, you heard footsteps running after you, with the calling of your name soon following right behind. You knew exactly who it was, but you didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation.

“Please don’t. Don’t leave again.” You turned around to see a very desperate-looking Lando. 

“Lando, do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as if you were a bratty teenager being denied the latest fashion statement dress.

“What?”

“Even I didn’t know it had been a whole year and more than that! You were seriously going to tell them all about your weird little obsession with me! Don’t you see how embarrassing that is for me?” The curly-haired brunette looked reasonably upset by your words. They cut deep like a dagger to the chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just being honest. It felt like an interrogation. I was uncomfortable and just had to say something… well… the truth. It was really as if Kika wanted to know my intentions, though.” How was the guy so spot on?

“Lando, just leave me be and go back to the others. We can live our separate lives. I don’t want to be near you right now.” You didn’t want your face to reveal any underlying feelings, so you buried your gaze in the asphalt.

“Why don’t you go ahead and look into my eyes whilst you say that.” Your heart stopped. Lando was simply impossible.

“Lando, just let me go. I don’t want you and if you can’t accept that— I don’t think there’s any space for a friendship either.” This time, he went to hell with it and cupped your face with both hands. You could feel the warmth pulsating in each palm, sending jolts down your spine.

“There’s no reason to treat me like this if you can’t even say it straight to my face.” He held you too tightly for you to look away from him. All you could see was the genuine despair in his eyes. The little hope he had left was slowly slipping the more you denied and denied and denied.

“Lando if you don’t let go of me right now…”

“What are you going to do? Distance yourself from me? Isn’t that what you've been doing this whole season? Do you think you’re invisible? I’ve seen you. I saw you on the podium. I saw you on the screens. I saw you in the magazines. Just because you run away, doesn’t mean you get to go the easy way out. No, you’ll know that I—“ Fuck. Your brain was struggling to scramble everything together. All you could think about was those sweet eyes of his. Those curly locks. That desperate look on his face.

“Just let me go… please.” The overload of sensory input sent a single tear streaming down your face. Lando, seeing this, immediately let go of you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know…” You quickly wiped the salty drop of truth away and put on yet another jester’s face.

“Please, can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just need closure. I just can’t find it in myself to believe that it’s because of my flirtation.” He’d given you space to breathe and space to think.

“I don’t hate you…”

“Then why do you keep leaving? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I’ll fall in love with you if I don’t… and that’s not what I want to do.” It was hard to read his face, but it was certainly portraying some kind of relief. You confirmed it when he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat matched the pace of yours. Fast and relenting.

“Please, could you give it a chance? Give us a chance?” He pulled away, grabbed you by the hips and looked deeply into your eyes. The window to your soul.

“I just told you… that’s not what I want, Lando…” You were just about to give the ground another look at your face when Lando grabbed you by the chin,

“I know you’re obsessed with winning. I heard from Max. I won’t compromise that. I promise. It’s just… I need you in my life, and now that I know you feel the same way… I can’t just sit back and watch you slip away.” He was making it harder than you wanted him to. He had a point and you chewed on it.

“Fine… but you better let me win. At least for the remaining races of this season.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a deal.” He smiled. It was as if time stood still, as you’d eyes closed with his— your lips touched his with a certain birding falling off your back along with it. His lips were like a cure. They were soft and delicate. Not something you expected, but the feeling was certainly welcome.

The season had ended with you as the champion. The party that was held was unlike the others. It was your party. Not Max’s. Not Lewis’. It was yours and yours alone. People cheered your name and toasted in your honour. You felt like you were on top of the world. More than anything though, Lando held you in his arms that same night. He showered you with congratulations and compliments. Even going as far as buying you a bouquet of roses. The club smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume, but all you could smell was the woodsy and warm scent of Lando’s cologne. You were practically engulfed in it throughout the entire night.

He took you on an official date a week later, waiting for the season to fully conclude. Mostly due to the stress of packing and making it back home.

 It was a picnic in one of the many British marshes. Everything was home cooked. Well, you’d cooked everything and he had bought the wine. It was a win-win. You’d done everything overnight, as you wanted to arrive early into the morning.

You’d spread out the checkered tablecloth for you to sit on, opened the basket, and prepped everything. Lando opened the aged wine and poured you a glass before he poured his own— a true gentleman. You swirled your wine around, watching it hit the rim of your glass before you took a sip.

“For once, you aren’t running off before we eat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dine, even with all the dinners we’ve had together,” your boyfriend chuckled and handed you a chocolate-covered strawberry. You took a bite of it to show off that you, in fact, were able to stay and eat. It stirred a little chuckle from him. He then mimicked the exact way you ate it and gave you another one after you finished yours.

You leaned against your lover’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you watched the yellows, the oranges, and the reds in the sky as the sun started its ascension far into the horizon. It was mesmerizing. Truly. You admired the view, taking in all of life’s pleasures, and listened as the mourning doves cooed the same old nostalgic tune from your adolescent years. There was no place you’d rather be, and nobody you’d rather be there with, than with Lando Norris. The one, who through one too many races, was right in your slipstream.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

[meazalykov]

invisible string theory

lena oberdorf x uswnt!bayern!reader

part one - part two - part three

summary: you're with her now, but you've known of her for longer than that.

warnings: long chapter, suggestive content

back in the united states, you were heartbroken. 

due to the contract that gotham had with lyon, there wasn’t a possibility that lyon could permanently sign you. the french club tried to sign you for another loan year with a mandatory buy option, but gotham didn’t want that. 

so now you’re here, dressed in a gotham kit watching the team play the chicago red stars from the bench. 

its the 70th minute and you had your arms crossed sitting on the bench. your national teammate, mallory, and your other friend midge sat beside you after coming off minutes before. 

“my ankle is killing me, i might have to go to medic after this game ends.” mallory hissed as she held onto her ankle. sometime after halftime, a chicago red stars player kicked the back of mallory’s ankle on accident. 

“you should, its bruised!” you say as you observe her ankle from your seat, your hands still crossed together as midge decides to hold your right arm in comfort. 

midge turns her head and noticed the coach, yes the coach that's not happy with you, coming your way. 

“y/n.” midge tapped your shoulder. you looked to your right to see the coach looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“y/n, you should warm up, you’re going on in the 80th minute.” the coach says before going back to observe the game. 

your eyebrows knitted together before you quickly took off your windbreaker jacket. being a benchwarmer the last two games since coming back from france was something you were starting to get used to until another club put in their offers. 

the coach has received a bunch of hate in the media because of you. which kind of soccer coach wouldn’t start one of the best players in the world? well, a coach with an agenda– that's for sure. 

being subbed into the game five minutes later, you already had the ball at your feet. as you run across the pitch and dribble pass a few chicago players, you pass up to carli lloyd. 

the striker takes the shot but it deflects off of the post. luckily, the ball landed back on your blue cleat and you tapped the ball into the goal. opening up the score 1-0 for gotham before the 90th minute. 

knowing your situation at gotham, you didn’t celebrate as happily as you did back when you scored at lyon. all you did was put your hands up high as your teammates gathered around to hug you. 

“i’m pretty sure that this is a good moment after being back from winning the champions league in europe.” a commentator says as you go back into the starting position as an attacking midfielder. 

“that’s my girl!” you heard midge yell from the benches. you look over to see her and mallory with the brightest smiles as you nod your head at them. 

you loved your teammates, but you wanted to be at another club more than anything. 

after the game that afternoon, your agent called you. 

she said that many clubs in europe wanted to sign you– permanently. 

that's all you wanted, you didn’t want to take a loan deal and attach yourself to another club just to come back here again. you wanted a new permanent home. it's 2020 and the transfer window in europe will close soon.

she said that psg was the first to put in an offer for you, but you immediately declined. somehow, you felt loyal to lyon and didn’t want to join paris. 

the next clubs she mentioned were real madrid, manchester united, ajax, and aston villa. you declined on those as well, not really seeing yourself in those clubs. 

even though bayern munich wasn’t the last club on the list, you were interested in that offer once your agent mentioned it. 

your agent mentioned that the coach personally wanted you at the club, and the club offered a good amount of benefits.

so, after a few days of deciding, you were in germany signing a contract with the bavarian club until 2025. 

over the months, you adjusted to the club perfectly. you got along with the girls, made a promise that you’ll learn to speak german, and your new best friend sydney was there to guide you. 

in november 2020, you were in the starting lineup to play against wolfsburg. 

this is your first time going up against the green team since you were with the french club, so you were ready to face them again. 

as you were standing in the tunnel, you talked with lineth beerensteyn about what to expect. this is your first start with the club, since the coach wanted you to get familiar with the games first. this was fair and something you went through with lyon as well. 

“its nice to face them again.” you respond to lineth after she asked you how you felt about wolfsburg. she smirks at you before pinching your shoulder. 

“oh yeah– i forgot we have a champions league winner on our hands.” she laughed. you rolled your eyes playfully as you shook your head. 

“don’t forget about the world cup.” sydney lohmann joins in. your jaw dropped as you shook your head again. 

“okay let's not talk about me, lets talk about the upcoming match” you say. 

“you’re right you’re right,” lineth laughs at her teasing towards you, “games against wolfsburg get pretty intense when you’re with bayern. they’re the “rivals” or whatever you want to say.” she continued. 

“just make sure that you take advantage of any opportunity you see. some of the midfielders will go for your ankles so i’d watch out for that too. things can get heated” the dutch finished. 

you nodded your head as you observed the wolfsburg players around the tunnel. some, like svenja and dominique, patted your back since you’re happy to see you again but in the bundesliga. 

before you walked ahead to talk to sydney, you felt a hand on your left shoulder. 

“so– what brings you here?” you look over your shoulder to see lena. 

honestly, you forgot about her after the champions league final. you have her jersey in your apartment along with other players' jerseys you’ve traded with in the past, but things were stressful for you when you went back home. 

“beating you again.” you teased. lena placed her hand over her heart before giggling, 

“not that! i mean it's nice to see you in this league.” she says. 

“oh danke– sorry– the adjustment here was easy thankfully.” you smile. 

lena wraps her arm around your shoulder, causing you to feel warm on the inside, does she know what she is doing to you? 

“that’s good– it would’ve been nice to see you in our jersey though.” lena whispers. you look over at her, your voice caught into your throat. 

“um- no thanks. i would miss getting my ankles broken by you if we were on the same team.” you tease. she unwraps her arm from your body, and pats you on the shoulders with a smirk, before going back to where the wolfsburg substitutes are without saying anything else. 

“y/n.. how do you know lena?” sydney walks up to you with her eyebrows knitted together. she looked curious, smiling, as you crossed your arms together. 

“we met during some adidas event at the world cup. well- i met giulia actually but lena just happened to be there and-” 

“and you guys are dating? why didn’t you tell-”

“woah syd slow down! we aren’t dating?” you cut her off. 

sydney smirks at you before laughing, realizing what the conversation turned into. 

“i’m sorry. you guys looked very flirty and familiar with each other.” sydney said as she rested her arm on your shoulder. you shrugged the other shoulder. 

“I mean the last time I talked to her was at the champions league final last season. she's cute but i don’t know if she even sees me that way?” you whisper in sydneys ear. 

you’re comfortable talking about this with sydney. she’s become your best friend since arriving in germany, but it feels like you’ve known her for longer than that. 

“the way that she looked at you, i would say she does.” sydney comments. 

you were going to question that but everyone started to lineup in the tunnel to head out. so, all you could do is wonder with your thoughts as you walked out to start the game. 

a year later, you were waiting at the airport in wolfsburg after a last minute decision. 

after that game in november 2020, lena and you started following each other on instagram. the both of you got each other's phone numbers and have been in touch everyday since. 

due to not being on the same club team, or national team, you didn’t see lena much– if not at all. 

randomly, as you were in your kitchen hours before– lena texted you. 

obi

we should go to this new restaurant that opened up downtown wolfsburg 

y/n 

how? i’m in munich.. 

obi 

check your email. 

when you checked your email, you saw that she sent you a confirmation and a plane ticket for wolfsburg. you jaw dropped in the middle of your kitchen as you were finishing making a few pastries for the bayern girls. 

y/n 

did you really buy me a plane ticket to see you? 

y/n 

you’re insane

y/n 

the flight is in three hours? you’re eager

y/n 

where am i supposed to stay at? 

obi

yes i did

obi

just for you 

obi

you can stay with me. i have a spare room 

you stood outside of the wolfsburg airport with a carry on bag waiting for lena’s car. luckily, there is no training or games scheduled since its thanksgiving break– so you had a day or two to spend with lena. 

after talking for a year, you guys weren't official. its clear that you are in the “talking stage” with the wolfsburg midfielder, but you hoped that she will be your girlfriend soon– even with the distance. 

as you looked down at your phone, watching a tiktok video that popped up on your fyp, you heard a loud car beep their horn. 

ignoring that your heart nearly jumped out of your chest in fear, you looked up to see lena getting out of the drivers side of her car. 

“obi!” you say as you grab your carry on bag. the german smiles brightly as she held her arms out for you. 

when you hugged her taller body, the nerves in your stomach eased away. the warmth of her body and her coconut scent seemed to give you peace in those short seconds. 

“hi liebe! how was your flight?” she whispered in your ear, not breaking the hug just yet. 

her proximity to your ear made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. something you couldn’t say out loud. 

“my flight was smooth, i had a row to myself.” you smile as you looked at lena’s blushed face. 

you weren’t surprised about the small amount of people on the flight, it was an 6pm flight and plane rides from munich to wolfsburg weren’t long at all. 

“that’s perfect. here, give me that.” lena held her hands out. 

you were confused before you noticed that she was pointing at your bag. you gave her your carry on, which she gently put in the trunk of her car as you got into the passenger seat. 

when you guys arrived to her apartment, you were quick to pull your adidas slides off and sit on her couch. lena smiled, happy that you made yourself comfortable in her space. 

“it’s late, so i’m not sure if you want to do much.” lena says. 

pulling your phone out of your pocket, seeing that it just hit 21:00, you agree. 

“we could watch a movie.” you suggested. 

“we can, but can it not be those horror movies you love seeing?” lena asked. 

as much as you guys had in common, movies weren’t one of them. 

lena loved disney animated movies and comedies, you loved horror films along with star wars. 

“you know what we should watch!? we should watch the phantom menace! it's not horror!” you smirked. 

lena rolled her eyes playfully, remembering a phone conversation you guys had in the past. 

“I remember when you said that you wanted me to get you started on the star wars trilogies. it's a win-win for the both of us,” you stood up from the couch and held lena’s hands with your own. the close proximity made lena’s face turn a shade of pink. 

“i get to watch star wars, and you get to watch a disney movie– since star wars is owned by disney.” you came closer, just inches from her nose hitting yours. 

she's taller than you, so she looked down at you slightly with a questioning look. 

“sure.” she says, distracted. 

your boldness seemed to go away the same second that you stopped talking. your breathing slowed as you realized what you’ve done. 

lena’s eyes looked down to your lips as you did the same with her. 

the both of you are alone in her apartment, you realize that no-one would be there to distract you if she kisses you. 

you didn’t mind. 

the german moves her arms around your lower waist as you lean in to kiss her. as you made contact with her lips, your hands moved to the back of her neck. 

the kissing got heated quickly. lena was clearly the dominant one in the situation as she lifted you up and your legs were around her waist, walking you to her bedroom. 

and you know how things went afterwards!

before you left to go back to munich two days later, lena asked you to be her girlfriend.

you said yes, happy but sad to leave her so soon.

after another few months, it's july 2022. 

unfortunately for you, you were out on a three month injury. your hamstring teared while you were on international break with the uswnt– so you were free to return to germany. 

however, you didn’t go to germany. you wanted to support lena and the rest of your bayern girls at the euros in england. 

you’ve seen the prep that your girlfriend lena has put into this competition. due to the distance, you don’t see her everyday– but you guys have perfected the routine of seeing each other when off-days align. 

on the sidelines of the final with germany against england, you wore the green germany kit with some levi 90s jeans. of course, the kit had lena’s last name on the back. 

some people might be offended that you, an american player of their national team, is wearing another countries kit– but you know the majority wouldn’t care, and neither did you. 

lena deserved to be here at this moment you thought. there was no way that you weren’t going to support her beside her family, 

“so, how long are you supposed to be off the pitch?” you looked over to see lena’s father speak to you, his german accent stronger than lena’s. the first half of the final ended and it's nil-nil and it could be anyone’s game. 

you wore a black brace around your leg where the injury occurred, so you figured that he was talking about that. 

“oh, i won’t be playing until the start of next season. so a couple of months– i have a grade 2 tear in my hamstring.” you respond, smiling as lena’s father nodded his head in understanding. 

“you’ll be back out there soon!” lena’s mother spoke with encouragement. you smiled, happy that your girlfriend had sweet parents that treat you as if you were their own. 

after talking to her family for longer, the start of the second half comes along. you’re anxious as both teams are keeping possession with the ball. 

watching other teams in person is making you miss being out on the pitch playing. 

all thoughts aside, your jaw drops as you watch ella toone from england put the ball in at the 62nd minute. 

lena got a yellow card moments before for a tackle on your friend, georgia, who is coming to bayern soon. so, lena was already in a disappointed mood before this moment. 

as the substitutes for germany and england were starting to come on, you started to feel anxious. you hated this feeling for teams that aren’t your own, but this happens everytime you invest a couple of hours into watching others– especially your girlfriend who you want to see with the euro trophy. 

when lina magul scored the equalizer for germany, you put your hands up and clapped as you witnessed the german girls huddle around in a big group hug. 

“come on obi!” you whisper to yourself, hoping that this was a fairytale where lena would score the winner for her country.  

unfortunately for you, germany’s team, and the fans– chloe kelly taps the ball into the net in the 110th minute– giving england the lead in extra time. 

deep down, you knew that was it. you looked ahead at lena with sadness in your eyes. however, you wanted to keep hope. 

after the game, seeing lena accept the young player award with tears in her eyes broke your heart. this is something that you’ve never gone through before from the outside, since usually you are the player that needs the comfort of a non-player after a loss.

after thirty minutes of the award process– with the hard watch of england lifting the trophy you wanted lena to lift– lena pushed herself to walk towards her family and you. 

at first, you thought she was going to go to her parents for a hug. you stepped back as you made sure that her parents were slightly in front of you. 

lena, with dried tears on her face, looked at you and held her hands out. being at the front row before the field, you accepted her embrace– holding her with as much as possible. 

she picks you up and pulls you over the barcade, making sure that your leg would be okay, so you’re standing on the pitch now. 

“i know you might not want to hear this right now– but you did amazing throughout the tournament. i am so proud of you.” you whisper into her ear. 

her strong arms squeeze your waist, a silent thank you that you’ll take it as. she holds you for another minute, knowing that what she needs is your love and reassurance. 

as you lift her head up from your shoulder to look at you, she frowns as she closes her eyes. another tear flows down her cheeks but you’re quick to wipe it away– 

“hey! don’t beat yourself up. you were the best player of the tournament, and i’m not just saying that because i’m your girlfriend.” you reassure. 

you know what lena is thinking– what did i do wrong? was there anything else i could’ve done? did the yellow card send the team into failure? those thoughts were not unfamiliar to you when you lost games, but you’ve never played in a euros final.

“danke.” she smiles slightly. 

part three here

<3

[yeeterthek33per]

Jealousy's a B**** (Steph Catley x Reader x Caitlin Foord)

A/n So this is officially my fifth attempt at this, I've accidentally managed to post it twice, way too early, and I'm honestly still not happy with it.

Also, sorry it took so long, y'all. 😅

But yeah, Caitley Fluff. (Caitley? Staitlin? Stetlin? Coord? Catoord? Fortley? Footley?)

Caitlin's been acting weird lately.

She's more clingy than usual, hands finding some part of you whenever you're just feet from each other.

You're sure Steph's noticed it too, but she hasn't said anything either. Just that she has a knowing look on her face whenever Caitlin latches onto you for the fifth time in an hour.

Normally, you wouldn't have minded, but when she does it at training... it gets a little distracting.

Particularly when practising marking for corners. It feels like she uses every opportunity to be pressed against you. She goes out of her way to mark you, to be the first to mark you despite not even sharing positions.

Her hands find your waist, gripping you tightly, and you have to smack them away with red cheeks so that you avoid being both held in place and also teased by the others.

She doesn't do it with Steph as much, but it's still prominent when you aren't a part of the drill.

Usually, you're pretty observant of anything going on with your girlfriends, but this has you completely befuddled.

Well.

That is until the game against Chelsea.

It'd been rough from the start, both teams eager to get the london derby underway from the start of the season, eager to see who could test the other the most in the coming days.

With Arsenal out of the Champions league, this was the most important game for your team to win. Arsenal needed to set itself up for precendence early.

With that came physicality. And fast. Every opportunity for a header was met with being held down by the waist. Every time you had the ball, it was met with a slide tackle. Every run was met with being held back by the arm or your shirt.

It was getting on your last nerve.

You knew the captain and her partner well. You loved them both like family, having spent years growing up with Magda and others playing on the same team as Pernille. Playing at Arsenal was the only time either of you had been separated.

Unfortunately, that fondness didn't translate onto the pitch.

Magda was the first one to take your feet out from under you, and Pernille was constantly on you, both of them knowing how well you linked up through the midfield and that you were a constant danger at any time on the ball.

Football is a physical game. You knew that.

But it was getting a little out of hand at this point.

Which brings you to now.

There's a foul just outside the penalty area winning Arsenal a free kick, which converts into a corner after the ball ricochets off Cuthbert.

Stood in line waiting for the in, you shift, ready to leap up for the header. As soon as the ball is lofted into the box, hands grip your waist, preventing you from making the header.

You shake it off the first time. And the second time.

The third time, Magda completely takes you off your feet, and you hit the turf with a groan of frustration. How was the ref not catching any of this?

The fourth and fifth times, you brush it off, but you can see Caitlin practically death glaring Magda as the swede pulls you up again.

What you didn't see was the constant hole Caitlin was boring into the Chelsea Captain's head when she even so much as stood near you. It got particularly bad when Magdalena dropped you on your butt.

The last time it happens that half, Caitlin spins around to yell to the umpire. The sideline ref spots it too, Magda is warned but nothing more.

Caitlin growls but returns to position with a look from you.

Half time can't come quick enough for you. The lockeroom is alight with various chatter as they all fire off strategies and mid game plays that need to be fixed. Your girlfriends sit either side of you, Caitlin's hand tightly gripping your leg, a beset half glare on her face.

"I need you all to just keep pressuring. My strikers, you're doing good, but it's just getting in for those shots where you need to be. Try to shake your defenders."

With a nod from all of you, you all make your way back to the pitch in a hopeful search of goals.

It's just minutes into the next half when it happens, you fight the hold, but in the end, you hit the pitch again. This time, it sets off the firey striker.

She sees you get pulled down and sees red, she gets right up in the captains face with almost no hesitation.

"What the hell is your problem?" She shoves the swede away from you, followed by the piercing screech of whistle behind her.

"Nothing, what's your problem?"

Magda shoves back a little, which leads to the others quickly pulling her away.

"Keep your hands off her. It's that simple Eriksson."

Realising your partner is about two seconds away from a yellow, you jump between them, too, quickly grabbing her by the shoulders to walk her away from the situation.

"Alright, that's enough outta both of you. Caitlin, you need to cool it. Do not get booted for this. It's not worth it."

"But she-"

"Caitlin! It's not worth it. Let it go."

She grunts but walks away, accepting the yellow card pointed in her direction.

The rest of the game goes as smoothly as it can. Occasionally, you catch Caitlin getting a little pushy with Pernille, too. But it's nothing major in the end, and the whistle blows in a nil all draw.

Exhausted but still in an okay mood given the results, you walk around to shake hands with the chelsea players and specifically go find Magda as well.

"Hey Magda, sorry about earlier, you know how feisty she gets. I'd say she's sorry as well, but-"

The blonde chuckles.

"Probably not, given the glare I'm receiving right now. Speaking of, how are your lover girls?"

You smile softly, a small flush creeping up your neck.

"Loving, sweet, caring as usual. Normally well behaved, I swear." She laughs at that.

"It's fine. What happens in the game stays in the game. Sorry about dropping you on your butt a lot there."

She winces slightly. You just jab poke her in the ribs and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"Nah, that's nothing. It's not the worst thing you've done to me." It's a soft prod and she huffs at you.

"Excuse me. I thought we let that go already. Just because we used to torture each other as kids."

"We? You mean you used to do it. I was a total angel as a child."

"Oh, I'm sure you were, I heard all about your innocent professions from Magda's mum."

Pernille wraps her arm around your other side, hand ruffling your hair.

"Yeah, just like you weren't getting pushy either today." You look up at her, being unfortunately shorter than the platinum blonde.

"I have no idea what you're talking about søde."

A nudge from you makes her chuckle.

You chatter away with them in your second language, having learnt Swedish whilst living with the captain in sweden from the age of 10.

Your parents were travelling business people (Magda would call them deadbeats, but that's another story) having moved to Sweden when you were just five, growing up next to Magda for five years before your parents wanted to move back to Australia.

However, given that you'd become so close with the Eriksson family, they quickly agreed to let you stay with them, the travelling lifestyle rather cumbersome on a child your age.

You loved your parents, but they were more deadbeat than they liked to admit, and so Magda's mother became like your own, and Magda, a sister to you after accepting adoption by the swedish family.

As you banter away with them, Caitlin watches on from her position by the bench, a small scowl on her face.

They were clearly way too touchy with you. Pernille kissing your cheek occasionally, Magdalena's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, occasionally brushing away your hair as you talk animatedly, a small blush on your cheeks at one particular moment makes the heat rise in her chest.

But she wasn't jealous.

No.

Why would she be jealous?

A small poke to her side brings her out of her thoughts.

"What's up with you, grumpy?"

Steph's shiteating grin makes her roll her eyes.

"Nothing."

"Uhuh, right, like I'm sure Eriksson and Harder haven't felt the holes you're glaring in the side of their heads either."

She scoffs.

"I am not." Her cheeks turn red at the incredulous look she receives in return.

"Babe, you do know they're not flirting, right? Magda definitely isn't into her, and as far as I can tell, those are loving sibling noogies our girl is receiving from Pernille."

Caitlin turns back to you. Steph's right. Still, she doesn't like the way they're holding you.

At some point, you must feel her staring because you look over with a soft but mildly concerned smile, raising a brow in her direction.

She shakes her head and turns away, arms still folded across her chest as she moves to go into the locker room.

"What's up with your girl, Stephy?"

Steph chuckles softly.

"Oh, nothing. Just our girl getting attention from her adoptive sister, apparently. I don't think she knows."

Beth snorts.

"No, I don't think she does either."

They watch as the pair continue to rib you, eventually hugging them goodbye and promising to meet up at some point in the next week or so. Wandering back over to Steph, theres a mildly confused look on your face.

"What happened with Cait? Is she still upset over Magda taking me down?"

Steph shrugs.

"Maybe. You know why?"

You shrug as well.

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

The bus ride back is even more confusing.

She ends up planted in the spot next to you but far too quiet. Normally, she's sat next to Katie, where the two would be either bickering, playing card games, or giving each other shit over small plays during the game.

None of that, though, and it stays that way until you've returned home.

"Okay, what's going on with you? You've been quietly sulking since we got back."

The forward shrugs in response, having been pretty silent for the whole ride home, save for occasional hums as you and Steph chat about team drama and the girls' post game antics as well.

You exchange a look with Steph, who looks like she knows more than she's letting on with the small smirk that pulls at her lips.

Confused by the action, you turn back to your other girlfriend, whose eyes are locked on the ceiling now, avoiding your meeting your own.

You can't think of any reason she'd be upset. The game hadn't been majorly eventful aside from that one yellow card. Magda certainly wasn't malicious in her tackles, so there's no way she'd be holding a grudge over that. You'd basically gone straight home after the game, too.

She was acting fine up until-

Oh.

Oh.

A mischievous grin crawls across your lips, and you move to sit in the striker's lap, surprising her mildly.

Your hands force her to look up at you.

"Baby, were you jealous?"

She scoffs, stumbling slightly over her words.

"Wha- no, I have no idea what you're talking about."

You sit back slightly, hand on your chin in faux confusion.

"Hm, I could've sworn you were glaring at Magda and P earlier. You saw that, right, Steph?"

You turn to the brunette, who is watching on clearly amused if anything.

"Oh, I sure did, I mean, if looks could kill."

You chuckle at the pout that makes its way onto Caitlin's face.

"I was not-"

She huffs at the growing smile on your face.

"It's really cute that you think they were flirting, baby. But no, there's no reason for you to be jealous, baby."

"But I wasn't jealous. They were just far too touchy, and-" the raised brow you give her makes her sigh softly.

"Okay, maybe a little bit, but still, they were all kissy, and it was getting way too touchy."

"Babe."

"But honestly they kept hugging you and after the game where they kept holding you and tackling you and-"

Cutting off her rambling, your finger sits on her lips and you hush her.

"Cait. I grew up with Magda. She's my adoptive sister. And Pernille definitely was not flirting. She's far too taken with Magda. Plus, she treats me like a little sister, too."

"Oh." Her cheeks flush.

"Honestly, baby, I thought you knew this already?"

Her cheeks go a little redder.

"No, why would I know? You've never told me about that."

"I'm out with them every other week. I usually tell you both, too."

"When? The only time you go out with friends, all we get from you is 'Hey, you two, I'm going to lunch with my sister and her girlfriend-' oh."

Both you and Steph lose it at that, Steph face palming as she falls back onto the couch, chest shaking with laughter.

You bury your face into her shoulder, shoulders jumping as you try to hide your giggles.

Caitlin rolls her eyes affectionately.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny, you two."

It takes you a minute to catch your breath again, hands moving to cup her cheeks, eyes alight with mirth.

"You're adorable. God, I love you. Also, wanna talk to us about why you've been extra touchy lately, too?"

She shakes her head and pulls you down to kiss her fully.

"Shut up."

You chuckle but comply, letting her have her way for now.

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

Caitlin didn't think she'd end up getting the third degree on her day off, but here she is, being teased mercilessly, stuck between you and Steph while you all rib her about last weeks game and the hickies you turned up to training with.

Between Steph, Beth, and occasionally Magda and Pernille, it really wasn't ending.

"Honestly, I don't know how you two didn't see it, really. She looked ready to implode after you kissed her cheek."

"I did not!"

"Baby, please, you were so red in the face."

"I'd just played 90 minutes. What do you expect?"

Beth pokes the girl with her shoe.

"Please, there was steam coming out of those ears."

Laughter rings out across the table.

"Tell me again why you thought I was flirting during the game by tackling her?"

Caitlin rolls her eyes at the swede.

"I didn't say that either."

You scoff playfully, turning to the chelsea defender.

"Ah yes, the swedish charm never fails you, huh Mags?"

"Sweeping girls off their feet since age ten."

Caitlin shakes her head.

"Okay, but like, what about the handsyness during the game? Harder, you were the worst of it."

The dane shrugs.

"It annoys her. That's literally it. Frustrate your opponents, and you have an easier time winning."

You scoff.

"Excuse me, don't say it like it actually worked."

"It did work."

"What part of a draw means you won?"

"I just said it worked."

"Clearly." You cock a brow at her.

The blonde flips you off, taking a sip of her coffee.

You poke your tongue out at her. Pernille chuckles, turning to her girlfriend.

"Childish. See babe, what did I tell you?"

"That I'm clearly the more mature and better looking sibling? See Caitlin? You have nothing to be jealous over. There's no way my girl would leave me for this thing."

Beth snorts and Steph has to cover a laugh when you take a swipe at the blonde.

"Bitch!"

While the other's watch on amused as you both bicker, Caitlin simply smiles, realising she definitely has nothing to worry about and reminds herself how much you show her love constantly.

Her clinginess had come from nowhere, so she'd blown it off.

Steph, however, knew well where it came from. Caitlin just got jealous easily, regardless of her protests to calling it that. Jealousy really is a bitch.

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

[gotham--fc]

January Hymn - An Emily Sonnett Imagine

So this takes place during 2020 when Sonnett was on loan to Gothenburg and that was a very long time ago so if the timeline is not correct that's the way the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️(also my first time writing in second person if y'all like it I might do more second person stuff)

Also based off the song January Hymn by The Decemberists which I cannot recommend enough their entire discography is *chefs kiss*

About 2k words, pretty angsty, not a happy ending

You had long since accepted that this was as far as your career will take you.

You grew up in Sweden, up north, and moved to Gothenburg when you turned 18. You played soccer all your life and it was obvious to everyone who saw you that you were yards ahead of every other kid you played with. Your parents would drive you hours away from your hometown so you could play on a competitive team in a bigger city, where your talent was matched and developed. You ended up on an academy team and set your sights on going pro.

You are a professional player now. In your teenage years, you imagined yourself in World Cup finals, Champions League finals, you imagined your mantle filled with trophies and medals. You imagine you would leave Sweden. You liked to imagine yourself in Germany, or France, or England, maybe even America, and playing for top clubs around the world. However, none of those dreams really panned out for you.

You moved to Gothenburg and signed your first professional contract. You didn’t notice it at the time, but you were nearing your peak in your play, your development slowing. You love playing here, always have, but you didn’t imagine spending your whole career here. Over the years, you have watched players leave. Young players rise quickly through the ranks and get swooped up by flashy contracts at even flashier clubs. You look back at yourself at 18, 19, 20, and you know you were never as good as they are, never really had a chance at going somewhere else.

You’re not upset. You’re at peace with it all now. Sure, when you first realized that your dreams wouldn’t pan out, you were heartbroken, disappointed, frustrated, but you moved on. You’re happy with your life. You still get to play the sport you love for a living. You recognize now that you would’ve crashed and burned had you gone anywhere else. You love Sweden too much to leave, and the homesickness would’ve been too much. All in all, you’re happy where you are and you don’t regret a thing.

Well, that’s not entirely true.

Players move around all the time. It’s the nature of sports, players choosing to leave for a variety of reasons, teams deciding not to resign players for whatever reason, the team is always changing. You have been a staple in Gothenburg for years, but you’re one of a few. You’re used to having your friends move away and you’re used to only seeing them over Facetime after fighting through time differences. It’s part of your life.

You don’t think much of it when your coach announces a new player will be joining the team on loan from America. It’s not the first American, and it’s not the first loan, and really you’re just happy to see a new face. With Covid restrictions you really only see your teammates and the coaching staff, and you’re looking forward to not having the same conversations over and over. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have an extra player to contribute when you’re pushing for a title.

Emily Sonnett, when you meet her looks like she’s had more of a year than you have. There’s a deep tiredness in her, one that she tries to hide behind her smile. You hear whispers in the locker room, about trades and the team in America she wasn’t playing for. You don’t care. You don’t care what she’s running from in America, you don’t care what her reasons for coming here are. It’s not really your business to care, anyway.

"Hi, Emily, right?" You approach her in the locker room. Her head is trained down at her cleats even though she’s tied them tight already. Her head snaps up when you speak.

“Most people just call me Sonnett. Or Sonny. Whatever you want.”

“Okay Sonnett,” You say, “You enjoying the city so far?”

“Uh, I haven’t really had a chance,” Emily, Sonnett, says, “I don’t really speak Swedish so, I just try not to get lost.”

Most of the team knows some English, some more fluent than others, but they do tend to speak Swedish to each other. You learned English when you were younger, in the hope that you might need it when you moved away. You’re grateful for it now, because Sonnett looks like she needs someone she can speak to.

“I’ve lived here for a long time, let me show you around. Gothenburg is a beautiful city, I would hate for you to not see the city the way I do.”

“Okay,” Sonnett says, “I’d like that.”

You take Sonnett around the city, showing her all your favourite spots, and you love sharing your city and your country with your teammates, but something feels different with Sonnett. She’s hilarious, and you laugh the whole day, and every time you laugh her eyes light up. You asked her, earlier in the day, why she came to Gothenburg, and she gave you a vague answer about COVID and not being able to play in the States over the summer and just wanting to get some games under her belt before the Olympics next year. You understand, in a way, because you’ve never not had soccer, never not been able to play, and you can’t imagine having it taken away without your control.

You have been fairly lucky with injuries, never having anything serious enough to take you out for a long time. You have watched your teammates and friends sidelined for months with injuries, and you feel extremely grateful that you’ve never had to deal with that. You know that Sonnett isn’t unable to play in the States because of injuries, but because of the pandemic that has effected you as well. No one really knows what the pandemic will bring, how the world will be impacted by it, and you’re just happy you get play, that the team has found a way to play safely.

“I know Sweden is not as warm as Florida,” You say when you noticed Sonnett shiver.

“Oh, I wasn’t in Florida, I was in Georgia with my family,” Sonnett says, “I don’t have a place in Florida and I’m not about to couch surf off my friends, so I just stayed with my family.”

“I did not realize your American teams don’t provide housing.”

“They did, they do,” Sonnett says, “There’s no point in getting me a place. They’re not playing in Florida this year, and they won’t keep me next year. I told them I don’t want to stay next year.”

You’re not really sure what to say. The conversations today have been lighthearted, and you’re not sure how to handle the change. You’ve had teammates request transfers before, but the system here is so different than in the States. Here, if you don’t want to stay with a team, you just don’t sign another contract, but it’s different over there.

“I was traded,” Sonnett says when you stay quiet, “From Portland. I’d been there for so long and I really thought they’d keep me, but then they traded me. And I don’t want to play for Orlando. I… I want to go back to Portland, I want my old life back. All my friends were there and I was really happy. It felt shitty that they could just get rid of me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, because what else is there to say?

“I’m not playing in Florida, for the Pride, and I made that clear. I don’t even want to go back to Portland, because it’s obvious I don’t mean anything to them, and all my friends are gone too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“D’you know any good pet shops?” Sonnett says suddenly, “I wanna get my dog Bagel so many Swedish dog toys before I go back.”

Your head reels from the abrupt change in conversation. You get the sense that Sonnett is not someone who likes to have serious conversations, so you don’t push. You don’t have any pets, so you don’t know where the nearest pet shop is, but you use google maps and you laugh as Sonnett makes jokes about each toy and the way she butchers the pronunciations of names.

It feels like the start of something, something you can’t put a name on. You didn’t know it then, but the start sometimes can also be the end.

***

You knew Sonnett’s loan would end. That’s how loans work, there’s also an end date to them. While you knew that, and knew your time was limited, her departure crept up on you. First, you were ecstatic, thrilled, that you won the league. It’s what the team has been working towards, and you get to see all your hard work paid off. Through the celebrations and the champagne, you find Sonnett alone.

“I thought you were the life of the party,” You say, “Or are your stories lies?”

“No, I am usually pretty rowdy,” Sonnett says, “They don’t call me Saucy for nothing.” You chuckle. “I was just thinking how much I’ll miss this.”

You head cocks to the side. Miss this? It’s hits you, the season is over, and Sonnett’s loan is over, and she’ll be going back to the States.

“I’m happy to go home, see my family and friends again, but I’ve really enjoyed it here.”

“Yeah,” You say quietly, feeling choked up suddenly.

The two of you look at each other and you can see the emotion in Sonnett’s eyes, no doubt mirrored in yours. There’s something you want to say, caught on the tip of your tongue, and you’re not even sure yourself what it is, but before you can, someone bumps into you and then you and Sonnett are dragged back into the celebrations.

Sonnett leaves a week later.

You offer to drive her to the airport. It’s an excuse to see her one last time before she leaves and she doesn’t fight you on it. You pick her up from her apartment and she slides into the passengers seat of your car. She looks tired, and you think a little sad, but she hides her emotions so well that you can’t tell if you’re just projecting.

The drive is quiet, the two of you attempting to make conversation, but there’s nothing to say. She’s leaving, and you’re staying, and neither of those facts will change. Her life is in the States, and yours is here, and maybe in another life you would’ve been more talented and more skilled and maybe you would’ve found yourself in the States, on the same team as Sonnett.

You park in the drop off zone and you get out of the car while Sonnett grabs her bags from the back. You take a moment to just look at her, and then you pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came here,” You say, “Even if it was short. I… I wish…” There’s so much you want to say. You pull back to look Sonnett in the eyes. As soon as you lock eyes, all the words leave you. What can you say?

She stands there, looking at you, and she’s waiting, she’s waiting for you to say it, and you’re waiting for her to say it, because how can you say anything right before she leaves you? How can she say anything right before she leaves you?

“Goodbye Emily Sonnett,” You say, “Don’t forget about me when you win a gold medal, okay?”

“Never,” She says, “Don’t forget me when you win the Champions League.”

And with that, she’s gone.

You drive back alone.

As you drive, even though you’ve lived in Sweden your whole life, it feels colder than it has ever been.

You go about your life as normal, except with an aching hole in your chest. You go over the drive and the goodbye over and over, wondering. What would you have said? What could you have said that might’ve made her stay? If you said something, if she said something, would it have changed anything?

No, you think, it wouldn’t have, because your lives are thousands of miles apart and nothing will ever change that.

You watch her at the Olympics that summer and you watch her lose in the semis and you watch Sonnett on the field, with her teammates, after the loss, and then in the bronze medal game, when they win. You wish you were there, you wish you could call her, congratulate her. You wonder if she watched your Champions League games. You wonder if she saw you lose and wished she could call you. You wonder if she thinks about you at all.

Maybe in another life, you tell yourself, maybe if things were different. Maybe you should just let it all go, maybe when you stop waiting, she’ll come back to you.

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .004

first part | previous part | next part

Note: I often try to plan out plot points while I’m at work, and I was like wow! I get why Kronika went insane because trying to keep all these plot points (especially the parts where I plan on diverging from canon) logical is wild.

This is the first chapter that doesn’t follow any of the main campaign events at all, so it was a bit more of a struggle to write for, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! There will be more chapters of this, building up the much needed foundation for the champions squad. Don’t worry Lin Kuei fans, there will be a few more Lin Kuei moments too during these times, allowing us to see them again before they disappear for a while during the tournament arc!

Shang Tsung deliberation is up until a week from when chapter 3 was released/aka when the tumblr poll ends. 

Otherwise, I will accept any wants for any other love interests until we get closer towards the Outworld arc since I’m pretty sure all Earthrealm men are already confirmed.

For example, someone asked for Reiko, so here’s a poll for him to gauge interest, AO3 fans, please comment on your thoughts for him!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED TRAIN SOME NEW CHAMPIONS

Turns out, thinking about the things that worried you leads to overthinking.

Pacing back and forth in your room, you felt the cool wood under your feet. With how much you paced around the room, you were surprised the wood had not been ruined at this point. You paused in your pacing and you looked outside the window to look at the moon. 

You were never a good sleeper, finding it hard to sleep at night. But oddly enough you always found yourself awake for the sunrise due to routine. You often found naps were a good supplement for your tiredness, but some days you would suffer being awake without much rest.

Your memories buzzed around your head too much to rest easy. You paced back and forth once more for a few more minutes until you stopped at the door of your room, briefly considering going and seeing whether Liu Kang could help ease your troubled mind.

Your hand laid upon the handle, the metal knob cool to the touch. Goosebumps trailed up your arm as you stared at the doorknob. You tried to will yourself to move. To finally speak with Liu Kang about the memories that weighed upon you, to free yourself of this silly burn that you brought about upon yourself.

Unfortunately, you could not bring yourself to step outside your door.

You were too racked with guilt to do that.

You were afraid of the idea that you would slip up and mention the many other memories you had recovered, the timeline you were beginning to piece together, and Liu Kang would begin to realize this. You were afraid of upsetting the man who most generously took you in and allowed you to stay by his side despite your odd past.

You did not want to ruin the good thing you had going for yourself.

Your hand dropped from the doorknob. Sighing, you walked over to a particular floorboard and carefully lifted it up. You reached inside and pulled out the leather bound diary that you had found on yourself when you first awoke in this world. Along with it was a pen that somehow, despite the years, had not run out of its smooth ink.

This was your only confidant in the memories you had. Moving towards your desk, you adjusted the lantern in your room to hang over the desk, giving you more light to work with. You stared at your words, trying to look at what you recalled.

Your memories seemed to be linked with those you interacted with, so the Lin Kuei and Liu Kang and the memories surrounding them were the strongest. Even still, you had holes in what should be completed memories. Meeting the new people seemed to patch some of them up, though.

You sighed as you skimmed the pages. They were mostly short phrases describing what you remembered from these brief memories. It was hard to keep them in order since they were random and never in order whenever you got them.

You picked up the pen, spinning it with a flourish before you began to write.

Kung Lao, a cocky monk of the Shaolin with a razor hat. Once was friends with Liu Kang. Seems now he is a farmer and friends with Raiden.

Raiden, Thunder god. Seems to have once been what Liu Kang is now. Mortal now, and a farmer of Fengjian with Kung Lao.

Johnny Cage, actor. Was with Sonya Blade and had a kid. Still an actor, has a different wife, and no kid. 

Kenshi Takahashi, once a blind swordsman with telekinesis and telepathy with a magic sword. Had a kid. Now seems that he has his vision, uncertain of abilities.

You sighed as you put down your pen, staring at the words in front of you. You tried to will yourself to conjure any memories you had of these men previously from just their name. Unfortunately, this just gave you a headache…and not the kind that gave you any helpful memories.

“Damn.” You muttered leaning back in your chair. You had never had control of your memories, even after all these years. They were rather inconvenient and useless, since they rarely gave you any insight on the ones you meet. They’re all so different.

The only constant was their names.

You closed your eyes as you thought of the four men you had written down. Who were they? What was their connection to you? You sighed as you rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the headache you had accidentally given yourself.

Ah shit, you were in charge of training them, weren’t you? Or at least, somewhat.

They were going to be a headache in more ways than one, it seemed.

“So, how, exactly, am I to train the four?” You inquire as you glance over to Liu Kang, briefly noting the way the sunlight landed on his features. It was another morning of watching the sunrise with the fire god. You had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least, before rising to meet up with Liu Kang as usual. A few hours was better than nothing.

You had started off quiet, before natural conversation hit the both of you. You discussed many things, mostly the events of the past few days, before the conversation naturally landed on the new recruits. You found out that they were going to be arriving at the Wu Shi academy in a few days time, giving them enough time to get their life sorted out before they drastically change theirs.

The god looked over to you. It seemed like he had been expecting this question, and you wondered just how easily he could read you. 

“You are to simply oversee their training and test their skill. I know you are not all too familiar with the teaching of the monks, so they shall handle the bulk of it.” He explained, and you found yourself sighing with relief. “Not to mention, I shall also assist when I am able.” You were not ready to have to handle training four grown men, so hearing that you were mostly there to test them was great.

You were good at fighting, at least. It was a skill that people often commended you for. 

Madam Bo often praised you as one of the best she had sparred with. The old Lin Kuei’s grandmaster often found value in the practice you gave his sons. You would never admit it, but you prided yourself on these compliments. 

“That’s good.” You remarked, feeling your shoulders relax. You returned your gaze to the rising sun and the pretty colors that were painted in the sky. You paused, deliberating over the next words that were to leave your mouth. “Why me?” You asked, your voice almost shy. That question had been haunting you ever since you found out about this arrangement back in Fengjian.

“Because I can trust you.” Liu Kang began, his voice filled with certainty. You felt a pang of guilt, your gaze dropping to your hands. Your mind screamed with how you were unworthy of his trust with the memories you found yourself unable to confide in him with. “And I know you will provide a healthy challenge to them.” You chuckled at his words, pushing out the voice that whispered in your head.

“Why are we recruiting these people so late?” You inquired, asking another question that had been bugging you for a while now. You were glad that Liu Kang was a benevolent god, and never seemed to mind your questions. “Would it not be more wise to recruit them earlier since the tournament is mere months away?” 

“Had we sought them before, none of them would be ready.” Liu Kang answered wisely, and you hummed. You knew better than to ask how he knew this, despite the years together there were some things you knew he kept secret, and his innate knowledge was one of those things. You supposed it was just a godly thing.. “It is only until now that an opportunity presented itself.”

“And so you decided that I was one of the best options to train them within a few months?”

“Indeed.”

“You have a lot of confidence in me, Liu Kang.” 

“Should I not?” The god questioned. The tone in his voice surprised you, and you looked over to him instinctively. You were surprised to see such a strong look of confidence on his face. Gently, he put a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. Through your clothes and his hand wraps, you felt the comfort of his warmth.

“No, you should.” You said, your voice filled with a bit more confidence. You looked at his face, feeling oddly proud of yourself to have earned the god’s confidence. He nodded, seeming content with the shift in your attitude. “I shall do my best.” You said, bowing for the man.

“I know you will.”

“How are you boys doing?” 

Striding into the courtyard of the Wu Shi academy, you looked at the four recruits. You noted how each of them wore the uniform, and how it all seemed to fit them, more or less. You walked with confidence in front of them, imbued with the words you had been given before from Liu Kang. 

All of them were various degrees of exhaustion. Not surprisingly, the actor seemed to be having it the roughest. He was still fine, but it was easy to tell he was the most winded out of the four. You assumed his luxurious lifestyle had something to do with it.

You sucked in a breath as you fought the massive headache these four were giving you. Being stuck with overseeing their training, you assumed you’d be having this feeling a lot. It was no matter, you’d simply sleep it off right now.

Strangely enough, despite the intensity of the headache, you were unable to glean any memories easily. Probably something to do with so many people trying to resurface at once.

“Training has been rigorous, but enlightening.” Raiden replied, his face flush from exertion, and you noted how out of the four he was one of the ones faring a bit better. You assumed it was because he wasn’t underestimating the monks’ intense lessons. You smiled at him, nodding.

“Good, as it should be.” You said, humming as you clasped your hands behind your back, observing them all. Despite their tired state, you could tell they were at least eager. “As Lord Liu Kang has said, I will be partially in charge of your training.” You grinned at them, seeing them perk up at your words. “Today will be a…benchmark to see where your skills lie.”

“Who exactly are you again?” Johnny asked, still hunched over slightly, hands on his knees as he looked up at you. You saw the slight glares from the others, probably because they saw his words rude. He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t get a proper introduction like you guys did.” He defended himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t take offense.” You chuckled, shaking your head. You said your name, clearly and loudly so the others made sure what it was. “I’m a companion of Lord Liu Kang, and he has entrusted me with overseeing your training.” You explained before clearing your throat. “I’m not one for lectures, so I’ll get right to it, who wishes to go first?” 

The four looked amongst themselves, seeming to deliberate amongst themselves silently on who would face this challenger they’ve never seen fight. You let out a silent chuckle, wondering how they sized you up. Eventually, you watched as Kung Lao strode up to take the challenge. 

“Let me show the others how it’s done.” He declared, seeming confident. You saw the small smirk on his lips, and in return you smiled graciously at him. You gestured for the others to step to the side, and you watched as a few of the monks gathered around to watch. The monks were no stranger to your fighting prowess.

“Bold.” You commended, nodding as you walked into place with Kung Lao, settling into the all too familiar fighting pose that you were familiar with. You watched as he mimicked your actions, settling into his as well. “Now, allow me to show you why I was entrusted with this task.”

You watched as Kung Lao approached, confidence in his strides. Almost too confident. You held a defensive position. The point of this test was to gauge their abilities, so acting on the defensive first would allow you to see what their confidence and skills on the offense were like. 

As he swung the first punch, you blocked it with ease. You supposed it was a bit unfair, having already known what Kung Lao’s fighting style was like after watching him in the teahouse along with the bits of memories you had of him. You allowed him to attempt to break your defense more, noting how he had a strong emphasis on his punches with their quick nature.

You had to commend him on his confidence, he knew he was a strong fighter. The farmer had a lot of potential.

It wasn’t until his major slip up with throwing a rather risky punch that you decided that it was time to go on the offensive. Ducking under the move, you went for a sweep, knocking the man off his feet. You waited until he got back up before you grabbed him. Taking him off his guard, you brought him close as you winded your leg back.

As you sent the kick flying into his stomach, you transformed your leg into that of a secretary bird’s, allowing you to put even more power than you would have normally.

“Holy shit!”

You disregarded the actor’s exclaim as you watched Kung Lao fly back, tumbling from the strike. As he stumbled up, he seemed surprised before hesitantly approaching once more. This time, he utilized more caution as he swung at you, trying to even employ the technique of grabbing you like you had. Easily you shoved him back, retaliating by whirling around and transforming yourself to have a kangaroo’s tail which you swung at him with.

This back and forth went on for a bit, with Kung Lao being easily fended off by you before he eventually conceded, calling for surrender.

“You fight well.” You commend, bowing towards Kung Lao. He did the same as he panted, nodding as he caught his breath. You stood up to look at him as he gestured towards you, a look of awe on his face.

“I am amazed at your transformation skills.” The farmer admitted, looking at you up and down with amazement as he continued to catch his breath. “Is it possible to learn that?” He asked, almost too eagerly as he walked over to the side to rest up.

“It is a skill I was born with, so unfortunately I cannot teach you.” You told him, grinning as you held out your arm to transform it into a bear’s with its claws out. “I have the ability to transform any part of my body, and all of me, into an animal.” You explained as you transformed your arm back as easily as you had changed it.

“Now, who is next?” 

You causally stood there, only having barely broken a sweat as they stood to the side, catching their breath. A pleased look appeared on your face as you crossed your arms, noting how they each fought. Today you had gone easy on them, being more defensive than your usual aggressive fighting style. You surmised they’d only have a few bruises each because of this. You tried to stay away from anything that would rip and tear.

Honestly, your memories had been helpful for once. They helped clue you in on the fighting style of each man, the odd exception being Raiden who felt pretty different than the man you remembered. It was nice to know what to expect, unlike the first time you had fought the Lin Kuei in training…

Kung Lao had been interesting, being the most confident in his strikes and fighting style. That matched with his speed allowed you to see where he truly shone in his fighting. Taking defense against him was a challenge due to how swiftly he struck, but being able to defend well proved useful as you could counter him when he was left vulnerable after a failed attempt at breaking your defense.

You hummed, recalling how this version of the man lacked the iconic razor hat you remembered. You wondered briefly if you should suggest it to him, or if it’d be odd. You also noticed how despite his confidence in this life, he was at least a bit more humble than when you remembered him last.

Johnny Cage had been unique, his fighting style more flashy and all in than what you were used to. It felt like it should be impractical from just watching it, but the man made it work somehow. He also had interesting evasion, which almost took you off guard. You think you could definitely work with it, especially teaching him how to better evade the opponent since he seemed to grasp that concept well already.

Your eyes looked over to Kenshi. Kenshi had been odd to train with since he wielded a sword, and it felt like he had the most experience in fighting. Your eyes trailed down to his hands, noting the tattoos that littered his hands. You remembered how Liu Kang had briefed you in on his past. A yakuza…that explains the calculated way he fought. 

You wondered if you’d ever have to deal with the telekinesis you remembered he had in his past life.

Raiden had been the most different from his past life. In both his fighting since he lacked the lightning powers you remembered so strongly, and how he carried himself. He was not as confident as you hoped, despite the obvious skill he had.

You’d have to work on that with him.

“Excellent work for day one with me.” You congratulated, causing the four men to look at you with varying degrees of confusion. You guessed they thought they had done not so well due to how you had battled them off easily. “As I said, this is a benchmark, so I know now how to best advise where to take your training, especially since the tournament is mere months away.” 

“That was a benchmark?” Johnny Cage asked, sending you a disbelieving look. He had been one of the ones you had ended up fighting the most before he conceded. He had been stubborn against you, and you don’t know whether that was foolish or something to be commended for. Maybe it was both. “You kicked our asses.” You chuckled as you grinned at him.

“Did you expect anything less from someone who is allowed to stand by the Fire God’s side?” You asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone before you observed them once again. “We’ll meet again tomorrow after your training with the monks. For now, you are all dismissed.” You said, bowing towards them, your hands forming a fist into your palm similarly to how Liu Kang does. 

You turned around, intending to go back to the Fire Temple for a well deserved nap, especially since the headache was getting nearly unbearable at this rate. Then, you heard your name being called. Turning around with a raised eyebrow, you watched as Johnny jogged to catch up with you.

Your head pounded as he neared, but you at least felt some relief as you felt a few more memories resurface.

You recalled how he had been very, very arrogant as a younger man. He had brazenly had his name tattooed across his chest, and for a moment you allowed your head to dip to his chest, curious if he still had it in this life. Somewhere, after what you could only remember a big event as a tragedy, you remembered he mellowed out. 

You wondered how this one’s attitude laid on those scales.

“You know, you’d be a hit in Hollywood.” He told you, his breath still heavy with exertion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised at his words. You weren’t all too familiar with what he was talking about, but you assumed it had to do with his acting background which you vaguely remembered.

“Really?” You asked, holding back a chuckle as you looked at him with amusement. Even across the world, he was still thinking about his acting career. “What makes you say that?” You inquire, deciding to entertain his thoughts. 

“People dig animals,” The actor started off, gesturing to you, “and not to mention how much you’d be valued there for being able to act as any animal?” He continued, acting as if he were trying to sell you on the offer. “Directors would be hitting you up left and right.” You felt yourself grin a bit more at his praise, but reminded yourself not to get caught up in his flattery.

“Are you implying I’d only be adored for my animal side? And not my own charisma?” You asked with faux offense, deciding to try and tease Johnny. You were surprised how he didn’t even flinch at your words and smoothly replied.

“Nah, you got that and more.” The actor admitted, shrugging as he pointed at you. “but it’s not often people meet an animal shapeshifter.” He pointed out with a nod, making you nod. “So if anything is your claim to fame, it’s that.”

“You’re interesting, Cage.”

“So I’ve been told.” The man replied wittily as he grinned at you, eagerness shining in his eyes. “So, you interested in becoming a star after all this blows over?” It was an innocent seeming question, but you narrowed your eyes, not certain on the intention of the question.

“Why are you so interested in my career path?” You inquired, your tone a touch more serious. You glanced over to see where the others had gone. All gone. No one to save you from this man’s questions. You crossed your arms as you gazed at him with skepticism.

You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as your mind reminded you all of a sudden how he had offered a similar gig in your past life.

Some things never change.

“Listen, I talked with Liu Kang, this shit has movie written all over it.” Johnny Cage decided to be a bit more transparent with you. You raised an eyebrow, and gestured for him to go on. “I think if what he says is true, I can make a box office hit!” He gestured towards you eagerly. “And I think you have what would make this movie superb, my friend.”

“Interesting…I’ll have to pass though.” You said, shutting him down. You watched as his glee dropped a bit, and you started to walk off. You were surprised as he still walked over to try and cut you off.

“Come on, hear me out-”

“Not right now, Cage.” You replied, putting a hand up to silence him. He huffed and you could tell he held back rolling his eyes. You sent him an unamused look. “Perhaps focus on your training first, then we can discuss it.” He perked up, and you decided it was best to start to walk off before he can try and talk to you about his movie shenanigans again.

“Really!?”

It was another sleepless night.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the mattress as you sat up. Perhaps you should stop trying to take naps and fight through the sleepiness so you can actually sleep at night for once. You sigh as you slump over, rubbing your eyes.

You should go outside, maybe do something productive. It’s been a few days in a row of this, you had to try something.

Not knowing exactly what to do, you followed your sense of wanderlust. You left your room, down the halls and out the building. From there, you left and found yourself standing at the entrance of the Fire Temple. You hesitated as you stepped out onto the dirt path, hearing the rocks crunch beneath your feet.

You’ve never left in the middle of the night.

It’s not like you had a curfew, or that you had any promise to stay inside the Fire Temple at night. Far from it, you remembered how Liu Kang told you that you were allowed to come and go as you pleased. That was long ago. You never thought much of his words, thinking you would never stray far.

You wouldn’t, but you figured there was no harm in going and walking off your restless energy instead of staying cooped up within the Fire Temple.

With a burst of anxiety and what you could barely consider courage, you walked on. You followed what felt like an invisible trail, until you found yourself standing in front of the Wu Shi academy.

Strange, but you supposed maybe you could train. Walking carefully into the academy, you made sure to be quiet, as to not disturb the monks with any noise near their sleeping quarters. You found yourself making your way towards the training grounds where you were surprised to hear the faint noise of training.

Transforming your ears into bat ears, you tried to hone in on the sounds. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood still, trying to make sure the person was not a threat, and if you could recognize them. You blinked as you suddenly came to a realization.

You walked quietly, making sure to follow the lessons Madam Bo and Bi-Han had pushed onto you to remain quiet and stealthy. Be stealthful as the night, and as deadly as the dawn. You peered from around a pillar, and spotted the person standing there alone, and you confirmed your suspicions.

It was Raiden.

You watched for a few minutes, changing your eyes to those of owl eyes to see better in the dark, to better observe. He was going over the basics, ever diligently. You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow. You had thought he had been more…feeble, being more reserved than Kung Lao. And yet, he was here, training in the dead of night.

What a peculiar man.

After a few more minutes, you watched as he made a critical error in his form. He didn’t seem to notice, and you sighed. He kept on training, repeating the error. You cringed. That was going to form a nasty habit, and if you were to be the mentor Liu Kang trusted you to be, you couldn’t let that happen.

Moving out of position, you slinked closer towards him, stopping to lean against a pillar that was only a few feet away from him. You changed your eyes back, letting your eyesight return back to normal. You felt the all too familiar feeling of the headache return, and you grimaced.

Your memories for Raiden were confusing. He was like a completely different man in almost every way. If your memories didn’t trigger in such specific ways, you wouldn’t believe the man that appeared in your head was the same one that was training in front of you.

Maybe because he wasn’t the same man.

“You’re doing it wrong.” You spoke, your voice ringing clear in the quiet courtyard. You watched as Raiden jolted from surprise, stumbling as he whirled around in a fighting stance to face you. You smiled at him as you held your hands up. “Relax, Raiden.” You said softly, to try and calm him down from the sudden shock.

“Why are you…?” Raiden began, eyes wide in confusion as he stared at you, not processing the situation quickly. He swallowed as he tilted his head, mouth open as he tried to muster up the words to speak. You brushed off his confusion, gesturing to his stance. 

“Your form was off.” You comment, gesturing to his body and pointing towards where he exactly had been incorrect. “You were practicing with it being wrong. That’ll be bad practice for you.” You point out. You watched as he tried to correct his form, and you hummed, gesturing to instruct him on how to fix it. As he finally shifted back into a proper stance, you nodded. “Better.”

“Um…thank you.” The farmer boy said, his awkward feeling at the situation obvious. Not only did it show on his body language, but it was shown plainly on his face. You had a feeling this man couldn’t obscure his feelings for the life of him. 

It was good to be honest, but you were worried it might work against him.

“I have trouble sleeping at night.” You explained, crossing your arms as you sighed. Your eyes looked down at the ground as you noted how the moonlight fell and illuminated the area around you two. “I decided to go on a walk and wound up here. I thought it might be nice to try and train, then I saw you out here.” You looked up, and gestured to him.

“Oh.” Raiden said after a few moments of silence. His face flushed as he put two and two together that you were asking for him to explain why he was there too. “I…uh, couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, looking down to the ground in defeat. “It’s different here than in Fengjian.” 

Ah. Homesickness.

“I see, so you decided to try and train and work off your restlessness?” You inquired, tilting your head as you tried to gauge his reaction. He paused, considering your words for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.

“A bit.” He said, nodding his head. “But I was also thinking about our sparring today.” The farmer admitted. You blinked in surprise, and nodded, wanting him to go on. “I just wanted to go over what the monks taught us today, so next time I would fare better against you.” 

How humble and sweet.

“While I admire your determination, there’s two problems.” You said as you kicked off the pillar you had been leaning against. You strode over to stand closer to Raiden, gesturing to him. “One, you must be diligent in your forms. Practice without purpose only builds bad habits.” He nodded eagerly, seeming to take your words seriously. “Second, there is a thing such as over practicing.” 

“I see.” Raiden said, letting your words sink in as he nodded. He stared at you with a mixture of admiration and attentiveness, and you smiled. Quickly, he bowed in appreciation. “I’ll keep this in mind, thank you.”

“No problem, what kind of mentor would I be if I let you practice such horrible habits?” You inquired, crossing your arms. You observed the man a few moments more, and you sensed that neither one of you were quite tired enough to go to bed. “I have a feeling neither one of us is ready to sleep, would you like me to run you through the forms again?”

“Yes please!”

Maybe you were cut out for this after all.

part five

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 2 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: my exam took me out and I had the longest nap of my life but here’s part two!! <3

W/C: 3.757

part one

"No, I'm fine. You know, I get nauseous when we run around the stadium with a full stomach." I tell Luis as he offers me one of his packed sandwiches.

He hums, taking the last bite of his sandwich while observing the streets of beautiful Madrid,  looking comfortable in the passenger seat.

It was match day against Union Berlin, the first in the group stages of the Champions League. We were all pretty optimistic about it.

"Can you hand me some gum instead? It's in the glove box." I point, placing my hand back on my steering wheel as I take a left turn. The Santiago Bernabéu Stadium coming into sight.

He leans over, grabbing the blue packet of gum, quickly removing the plastic foil.

"How many pieces do you want?" He asks, crumpling the foil with his hand.

"Two please." I say, lowering the volume of the radio as we enter the staff parking lot of the stadium.

I notice him unwrapping the individual pieces of blue gum and extend my hand so he can place them in my palm. 

"Thanks." I mutter, popping them into my mouth after I manage to find a parking spot.

"When is the team arriving?" He asks as we step out to collect the camera equipment out of the trunk. I make sure to hand him his staff badge, clipping mine to my lanyard.

"Twenty minutes, I think." I say, helping him with the equipment bag. We quickly make our way towards the pitch, greeting fellow staff members. Luis sets the camera up as I check our drafts quickly.

We finally finish taking videos and pictures of the pitch after a few minutes, our staff badges hanging off our necks as we walk back inside to capture the players walking into the stadium.

"Okay, I've posted the Instagram stories. Mind if you take a look?" I ask Luis, showing him the short clips of the pitch and stadium.

"Looks fine, but you know you don't have to get it double-checked anymore. You've been doing this for a while now." He nudges me, expression reassuring.

"I know, just making sure." I say, analyzing the posts one more time. I didn't want anything to go wrong or look particularly weird, plus it would give Valeria a reason to complain about me.

We make sure to get good shots of the squad entering the stadium, following them out to warm up as well. Finally, we get to sit down when the match starts. We update the social media platforms of the club accordingly during halftime, just as planned.

So far, it was still a goalless game, prompting us to have higher expectations in the second half of the match.

Though, the second half isn't that much more climactic, but we all sit on the edge of our seats when extra time is announced. My finger hovering over the 'post' button of a 1-0 ‘X’ post.

Luis and I look at each other anxiously as we get awarded a corner. A commotion starts right before the net of Union Berlin, the ball bouncing back at first, and then GOALLL!

I practically slam the post button, the stadium erupting in cheers along with us. Finding it difficult to calm down, so we can focus on the last minutes of the game. With the assurance that we would win, Luis and I start packing our equipment quickly. It would make sure we could follow the team back into the tunnel and, of course, towards the changing room for the post-match interview.

"Who got Man Of The Match again?" I ask Luis, noticing a smirk form on his face immediately.

"It's Jude." He says, and I look at him with wide eyes, pulling an annoyed face.

"Really? Now I've got to interview him? It's going to explode his ego, like it can get any bigger..." I sigh, following Luis down the stands.

"You'll live." He mumbles, prompting me to sigh again, wishing I could speed up the next few minutes as if it were a boring Netflix show.

"Tell him to- put his shirt on." I urge Luis, nudging his arm, my hands falling to my side when he shakes his head.

We'd both already been in the changing room, and my eyes had caught multiple half-naked

players. Prompting me to exit instantly. I didn't want to intrude when the guys were changing for obvious reasons, so I walked myself out before things became really awkward. Though, they probably didn't care, I did.

"Why does it matter?" He asks, pushing my head away from his face.

"It's distra- or just say-"

"I'm ready."

I whip my head around, my head almost colliding with a hard chest. I quickly take a step back, a smug-looking Jude looking down at me.

What the fuck was he so tall for?

"Took you long enough." I mumble, rolling my eyes. Trying to pretend he didn't scare the crap out of me.

He scoffs, the ‘Player Of The Match’ award glimmering in his hand as if he's trying to show it off to me.

"Can we just do the interview so I can stop talking to her?" He says, looking at Luis. His eyebrows raising in question.

I click my tongue in annoyance, tapping my shoe against the ground impatiently. I watch Luis nod, his hand coming up to my shoulder as he pushes me closer to Jude.

I turn my head, looking at Luis confused. I mouth a 'what the fuck?' to him, his smirk getting wider as my arm collides with Jude's. A sudden panic and disgust creeping up to me.

"Let's just do it without my face." I blurt, immediately detaching myself from Jude's side, like he's a scorching fire ready to burn me.

I feel his eyes follow me as I walk to stand behind Luis. I fight to urge to kick the back of Luis's leg for whatever that was and just request him to start filming. Glad that the mic was already attached to the camera.

"3, 2, 1.." he counts down, pressing the record button. I try to fake my uppermost enthusiasm when I ask the questions to Jude. Watching his own expression change within milliseconds. It's like he wasn't just begging for the interview to start, so he could stop talking to me.

"¡Hala Madrid! ¡Buenos Noches!" He finally exclaims, raising the award excitedly. The interview finally ending.

The two minutes felt like an eternity, and he'd probably uttered the same sentence about 50 times now.

I sigh in relief, stepping back as I watch Jude and Luis give each other a handshake. We make eye contact for a split-second, my gaze cold as he looks at me with pure arrogance plastered on his face. Walking away to join his teammates, who had already walked out of the changing room.

"Can we go now?" I ask Luis, massaging my temples. He turns around, blankly staring at me. It creeps me out for a split-second.

"What?" I ask, frowning at him, folding my arms defensively.

"Nothing. It's late, let's go." He says, walking ahead of me. I watch him walk away for a couple of seconds, trying to decipher why he gave me that look. His back almost disappearing out of my sight before I knew it.

He walks past a couple players and staff members, them having their own conversations and being loud. Notably, Ancelotti walking with them.

I curse, clicking my tongue in annoyance. I start to walk fast, trying to catch up to Luis, who, at this point, wasn't even in my line of sight.

Suddenly, I hear Ancelotti call out my name, and I turn around like a deer in headlights. Slowly starting to consider leaving Luis in the parking lot, instead of driving him home.

"Something wrong?" I ask, looking at him cautiously.

Was I in trouble?

"Come here." He says, waving his hand. I look to his right, seeing a familiar group of players glance at me. It consisting of Vini, Cama, Aurelien, and Jude, again. Them laughing and banter amongst each other.

"Can you tell your father to call me? I need to speak with him." He adds, looking at me.

I nod, my expression changing to a less confused one, before reassuring him I would tell my dad.

"Then go on, it's getting late." He says, patting my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

I smile at him, nodding and glancing at the guys next to him.

"Good game, guys! See you tomorrow." I say, fully in Spanish on purpose, waving and walking away as fast as I possibly can manage without looking crazy.

Luis was getting his ass left here, for sure.

"Dad! I'm home." I sing, taking my shoes off at the door, quickly storing them away in the shoe cabinet.

"I'm in the kitchen." He shouts back, and I make my way towards him.

"What are you doing?" I ask, seeing him stand in front of the open fridge.

"Grabbing dinner to heat up. You're hungry, right?" He says, and I nod, walking over to kiss his cheek in greeting.

"I'll do it, dad. You should go rest." I say, noticing him already dressed in his pajamas. I take the Tupperware of food out of his hands, placing it on the marble island.

"How was the match?" My dad asks, leaving to sit on one of the bar stools across from me.

"Good- we won." I say, pouring the tomato soup into a small pot. Placing it on the electric stove, before turning it on.

"I saw, Jude really saved the day. Amazing signing..." He chuckles.

My dad wasn't aware of the absolute disdain we had for each other, but I wouldn't want to bother him with it.

"Yeah, I guess he did." I mutter through my teeth, stirring the soup with a spoon. Making sure I don't scratch the surface of the pot.

"Oh! Mr. Ancelotti asked if you could call him. I think it's pretty important, since he asked me..." I remember, looking up at him from the stove.

"Why didn't he just call me?"

"Maybe, because you're always busy? He probably can't get a hold of you, or your secretary forgot to tell you. Which would be- weird." I say, watching him walk away to grab his personal phone off the dinner table.

"You're really calling him now? Dad, it's like ten at night. You need to stop thinking about work."

"It's alright, we're close enough." He says, calling the man of topic as he approaches the sliding glass door to the backyard, walking out.

I scoff in disbelief, shaking my head. I should've just told him tomorrow after breakfast.

I try to push those thoughts away, finally sitting down at the dinner table, putting on a binge-worthy show on the TV across from me. Enjoying my dinner with a can of Coke.

The ending credits of the episode and my empty bowl allow my mind to wander back to the day’s events. It was the first game of many for the Champions League. No doubt, our team would go far, we had a strong team with amazing support. I just hoped traveling while also studying could be manageable, especially this year.

I decide to give my brain a break from thinking critically, taking care of the dirty dishes, and sliding the backyard door open.

"Dad?" I call out, noticing him sitting on one of the pool lounge chairs. He turns to me, motioning for me to be quiet with a finger on his lip. I nod, mouthing a 'goodnight' and wave. He mouths it back, smiling at me. I nod, turning my back and walking up the stairs.

Arriving in my bathroom, I take a quick shower and do my nighttime skincare. Feeling very refreshed when I crawl into my bed, the silk pillowcase soft underneath my head as my eyes flutter shut.

The atmosphere today at the training center is very off.

Instead of the players looking happy and excited after their win yesterday, they look somber and tired. The vibe is gloomy, despite the sun shining brightly since early this morning.

Especially the younger guys. I didn't know what was wrong yet. They greeted me halfheartedly, unlike normally, and even Jude himself didn't give me one of his daily, annoying, egoistic looks.

I had asked around, and most other staff members told me they noticed the same, so it definitely wasn't just me making things up in my own head.

Maybe, just maybe, nosy Lina had some information.

I grab a tray, walking along the lunch buffet, and getting my food. I didn't want to bother fussing over all the options today, just opting to go for my usual. I don't forget to grab my drink, an Americano, iced this time to combat the September heat.

I look up to find Lina, my eyes finally catching her wavy, dirty blonde hair at our usual table, as I make my way towards her.

"Hey! Haven't seen you today. What's up?" I say, hugging her. I had been busy filming the recovery exercises of the players with Luis in the gym.

"Finished editing the footage you and Luis took yesterday." She says, smiling at me. Moving a lock of hair behind her pierced ear.

"Was the footage usable?" I ask, looking at my plate of food before looking back at her.

"Yeah, good as always. Posted it on YouTube already." She answers, and I turn to her after swallowing my bite of pancakes.

"Was the interview alright? Did it sound like we wanted to kill each other?"

"It was surprisingly good! You two just have that onscreen chemistry." A smile pulls at her lips, the outrageous statement causing me to freeze for a moment.

"Carolina! Don't ever say that again, please." I use her full name, giving her a look of disgust while shaking my head, horrified.

I hear her laugh mid-bite, she practically starts choking on her food. Prompting me to pat her back semi-aggressively. She finally calms down when I bring her drink up to her lips.

"Can I ask you something? It's about something completely unrelated." I say, changing the topic and looking around for any eavesdroppers.

"Go ahead." She says, clearing her throat for a moment.

"Have you noticed the younger guys- are acting a little off?" I say, choosing my words carefully, watching her eyes light up almost instantly.

She definitely knew what was up.

She nods, pulling me closer by my shoulders, and whispers into my ear.

"Apparently, last night after the match, the guys went to celebrate at a restaurant. When they dropped Jude off at his home- and I'm saying just what I have overheard. Someone tried to break into his place." She whispers, and I pull back to give her a bewildered expression.

"You're serious?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Yeah, something about his window being broken and a note being left."

"A stalker?" I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.

She nods, pulling away from me.

"That's what I've heard. Apparently, this wasn't the first time it happened, it being the second time already. The younger players probably feel bad for Jude. They've all gotten pretty close and are probably worried about his, but also their safety." She explains.

Despite the bad blood between Jude and me, I had the heart to feel a little bad for him. I had morals at the end of the day.

"Doesn't his mom live with him?" I ask, recalling what I've heard around.

"She wasn't home, thankfully."

"That's good, at least." I reply, looking away for a moment.

"He'll probably have to start a legal process.." She adds, and I return my attention back to her.

"Where did you even hear all of this?"

"A good gossiper never reveals their sources."

"y/n, could you come here for a moment?" I hear Hugo speak. The head of PR and marketing for the club. Whom I had the opportunity to grow pretty close to last season.

I place the folders in my hand back on my desk, walking over to him curiously.

"What is it?" I ask, looking at the grey haired man. He's smiling, so it must be positive?

"I'm sure you're aware I chose you to provide content during matches, but also the match preparations this season, along with Luis."

I nod, eagerly waiting for his point to be made.

"I've seen what you and Luis put out yesterday. I'm very pleased so far, especially the interview with Jude. Feedback has been great online. Looked very nice and casual."

"Thank you, we tried our best to create the best content. I honestly couldn't have done it without Luis." I quickly say.

That was true, I don't think I could've done the interview without Luis, even though he was being a little weird about it.

Why was everyone obsessed with that interview anyway? It was just a normal, run-of-the-mill interview I did most of the time.

"Right, extend my praises to him as well. As you know, the CEO of Apple will be visiting us on Saturday. I'd like for you and Luis to capture the moment. Would you want that?"

Meeting the CEO of Apple, Tim Cook?

I would be crazy to refuse.

"Of course, I'm sure Luis would also appreciate the opportunity. Could you send us the details via email later?"

This was definitely a dream come true, especially for tech-nerd Luis. He looked up to these CEOs for inspiration all the time.

After the conversation with Hugo ends, I decide to finally clock out. I walk down the stairs, my bag slung around my arm as my eyes are glued to my phone. Wondering how Luis would react to the news.

I couldn't tell him in person since he wasn't on site at the moment. So, texting would have to suffice.

I reach the last few steps, my shoes stomping against them, finally taking a right at a corner.

Suddenly, my shoulder painfully crashes against another body. My bag falling on the floor, along with my phone which flies out of my hand.

I look up instantly, eyes locking with someone I don't recognize by name, but have definitely seen around. He's dressed in a brown T-shirt with some dark blue jeans, interesting wear for the weather today. He did look a couple years older, something like late twenties or early thirties.

I clutch onto my arm, trying to ease the pain as I start to apologize profusely. I want to be rude so bad, but I hold my words back with everything in me.

I wasn't watching where I was going, but still, he could have heard me stomp down the stairs.

"No, it's fine. It happens." He says, no actual emotions detectable in his voice. I reach down to grab my bag off the floor. Watching him bend down to grab my phone, which had landed on the floor about a meter away from me.

I stand back up, holding my bag with my unhurt arm.

"Here." He says blankly, handing me my phone. 

"Thank you." I say, grabbing the device. His cold fingers unexpectedly graze against mine, making me shudder as it creeps me, the fuck out.

I did not like whatever that was...

He was holding my phone right at its base, how did his hands even touch mine?

He looks at me for a second, his blue eyes piercing into my soul, as he then walks off, not saying another word. Leaving me standing there in confusion.

I snap out of my trance quickly, trying to forget whatever that interaction was. Finally, walking up to my car and unlocking it.

Most players and staff had left already. Recovery day was so fun, only because it meant getting off early.

After pondering for a few seconds, I decide to just visit my dad's law firm instead of going home directly. Mostly, because I hadn't been there in a while. I could see him, and work on my essay there at the same time.

Maybe, I could also convince the other lawyers there to give me feedback on my essay.

I connect my phone to the car, clicking on my current favorite playlist and increasing the volume of the speakers. Knowing my favorite songs could keep me company while I drove through the city.

I grab my own set of keys out of my bag after arriving. My dad had given it to me, so I could enter and leave the firm whenever I wanted. Giving me the freedom of not having to knock or press the intercom when I visited.

I insert the key in the keyhole of the front door, trying to twist it. I frown as the key doesn't actually twist, making me wonder if the lock was changed. I pull the key out, inserting it again, and try to twist the key.

I sigh as it doesn't work, looking around to see if anyone is staring at me. Only because I definitely looked like I was some stupid robber trying to break in, in broad daylight.

Thankfully, no one is looking my way, so I continue to struggle with the door. Mumbling some curse words in annoyance, a frown settling in between my brows.

I breathe in, inserting the key again, readjusting my grip on the doorknob as I twist the key. I push the door at the same time, the door unexpectedly flying open. My weight presses against the door as I fall inside, clutching onto the door handle for dear life. My ankle rolls painfully, and I let out a pained wince.

I hear a loud groan as I try to stabilize myself. I raise my brows confused, seeing my dad lean over to ask a guy who's cradling his head if he's alright.

I just slammed the door into a client’s face.

A mortified expression forms on my face as I realize the situation I caused. I immediately walk over to place a hand on the guys shoulder, apologizing repeatedly. My dad giving me the most disappointed look to date.

I glance over to the woman next to my dad, recognizing her within a heartbeat.

"Denise?" I ask, eyes widening in confusion. If she's here, then...

I notice my victim raise his head, a pained groan leaving him. We make sudden, unexpected eye contact. I freeze in shock and confusion, a little disgust following at the realization of who he is.

"Jude?"

"y/n?"