#SORRY but i finally read i robot and i just HAD to get it out kshdnsdndfjd
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My wife and I finally finished ALL of Venture Bros and I have been cooking up this beauty the whole tiiimmme.
I had an Venture Bros OC back in like 2005 but remember NOTHING of them so here's Dr. Holly Hart. *waves hands*
She's about the same age as Rusty, a well-known roboticist, and is a HUGE bitch. xD Despite what media coverage would tell you.
Of COURSE she's paired with someone and whoever can guess who it is gets a free bust art of their fave Venture Bros character lmaooo
Intro writing under the Read More~
"Our top story tonight: World Renowned Roboticist Dr. Holly Hart sits down with us for an interview on her visit to the US! Hailing from the UK, Dr. Hart has contributed to humanitarian efforts the world over! We catch her tonight after spending the last couple years supplying disabled children with hi-tech prosthetics! What an absolute angel. Don't miss out at-"
"Ugh. What a load of crap." Rusty grumbled, promptly turning off the TV.
"Friend of yours?" His bodyguard asked from behind the couch.
"Hardly." The former boy adventurer replied, "We both went to State. She was a transfer student and we had a couple classes together." Rusty threw up some air quotes, "Absolute angel" my ass. She's the biggest bitch I've ever met."
Brock shrugged his shoulders, "Well, doesn't look like you'll be seeing much of her with the compound out here in the middle of nowhere."
- Two weeks later, at a convention -
"Oh my GOD, that is THE Dr. Hart!" Billy Quizboy gushed, jostling his drink, "The QUEEN of the modern robot. Do you think she'd like to look at my hand?"
Brock grimaced a little, "Sorry, Doc. Guess I uuhh... Spoke too soon."
"No no. This one's on me. Just my fucking luck." Rusty replied, drowning himself in his drink.
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Major respect and gratitude to all these wonderful artists and logical people!! I'm an amateur artist myself who has never seen the appeal in AI art at all, or just AI in general, but I never really thought too much on how the situation affects people with disabilities. This thread though shows me and other regular people how free and creative art is. And how "Art" as a concept really doesn't have any limitations! You don't need a robot to do something that only a human can truly understand, and you shouldn't have to!
Thanks for sharing all your POV's on this situation and I'm glad we still have some sensible people in such a shitty world. <3
Plus, AI just sucks overall.
"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity
#Storytime in the tags lets gooooo#So! I actually never used to have much of a hatred towards AI art#especially when it was first starting out back in late 2020.#I was actually fascinated at the prospect of someone just being able to plug in a few prompts and then having a masterpiece in like.#2 seconds.#I still find amusement in taking a quick peak at free art bots from time to time. But that's all just for shits and giggles.#I don't really consider that “Supporting AI.” I just find it fun#Anywhizzle. All of this changed for me back in I think 2021 or 2022. I can't remember which year :p#I was watching a video discussing the discourse behind AI art and how much it was growing. Back then I was starting to see the flaws in AI#and how destructive a robot with sentience can be. It's like taking that one joke about workers being replaced by robots and making it real#So when I watched this video and they started talking about this odd anime movie I'd never heard about and how all the backgrounds were-#-done in AI. I was pretty pissed. Never before had I heard of anything like this. A whole fucking movie. With beautiful backgrounds that-#-shouldn't even be possible to draw. Was done in AI.#I looked back at all the real art I'd seen over the past like 3 years that I'd been on the internet. I have seen livestreams where artists-#-that I looked up to (And still kinda do) spent 2 whole hours on backgrounds for just one single comic page!#I read Evan Stanley's fan comic and knew that all those beautiful and geometrically accurate backgrounds were drawn by hand!#I HAD GONE THROUGH THE ENTIRE PROCESS OF GROWING MY ART STYLE FROM SCRATCH OVER THE COURSE OF TWO WHOLE YEARS.#I LOOKED AT ALL THESE ARTISTS THAT I LOOKED UP TO AND SAW THEIR BACKGROUNDS AND THEN LOOKED AT MINE AND-#-I THEN REALIZED HOW FUCKING DEDICATED THEY ALL WERE TO PULL OFF SUCH MASTERPIECES.#I KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO JUST DRAW A TREE. OR A ROCK. OR A HILL THAT ONLY GETS 1/4 OF IT SHOWN IN THE FINAL PRODUCT.#And then I looked at the AI art in the background of the video... And I was PISSED.#But I didn't realize the full extent of my anger until the narrator in the video discussed what the credits for the movie said:#“AI - Human”#They... They didn't even give credit to the person who operated the fucking robot.#This STUPID LITTLE KID'S MOVIE DID NOT EVEN GIVE CREDIT TO THE GUY WHO GENERATED THE BACKGROUNDS IN THE FIRST PLACE#THEY JUST USED THE WORD “Human” INSTEAD OF GIVING EVEN AN OUNCE OF CREDIT TO THE VERY REAL HUMAN BEING THAT TOOK-#-TIME OUT OF THEIR BEAUTIFUL DAY TO GENERATE THEIR STUPID FUCKING BACKGROUNDS.#So yeah that's how I learned how to hate AI art your welcome and thank you.#I'm not sorry for all those tags#blog/ask stuff
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Metamorphosis
Charles Leclerc x ex!Reader
Summary: Charles makes the worst mistake of his life, leaving him to watch from the sidelines as you move on to bigger and better things (and people)
Warnings: cheating, only one of you gets a happy ending (hint: it’s not Charles)
Based on this request
Charles enters the bedroom he shares with you, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to finally come clean about his infidelity. The guilt has been eating away at him for weeks.
You’re sitting up in bed, reading a book. You look up with a warm smile as Charles approaches. “Hey, you’re home early.”
Charles takes a deep breath. “Yeah … we need to talk.” His voice is heavy with regret.
You mark your page and set the book aside, giving him your full attention. “What’s going on?”
Charles sits down on the edge of the bed, unable to meet your trusting gaze. “I ...” The words get caught in his throat. How can he tell you? How can he shatter the life you’ve built together?
After a long pause, you prompt gently, “Charles? You’re worrying me ...”
He forces himself to look at you. Your beautiful face, your eyes full of love and concern for him. It breaks his heart anew.
“I’ve done something unforgivable,” he confesses in a pained murmur. “I … I cheated on you.”
For a moment, the room is silent. You stare at him, eyes widening in shock and hurt. Then, almost robotically, you slide out of bed and walk over to the closet. You pull out a suitcase and start methodically packing clothes.
“What? No, please, don’t do that!” Charles jumps up, panic and desperation gripping him. “I’m so sorry, it was a mistake! It meant nothing to me, I swear!”
You don’t respond, continuing to pack with eerie calm.
“Aren’t you going to yell at me? Throw things? Please, just … show some emotion!”
You pause and look at him impassively. “Why should I waste my energy? You’ve clearly checked out of our relationship already.”
Charles feels like he’s been slapped. “No! No, that’s not true at all! I love you, I want to make this work!”
Shoving the last shirt into the suitcase, you move over to the vanity and begin unclasping your jewelry — pieces he gave you on holidays or your anniversary or just because. You stack the earrings, necklaces, and bracelets on the surface, finally pulling off your engagement ring and adding it to the pile with a soft clink.
“Please ...” Charles begs, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t leave me. We can get through this, I promise!”
You zip up the suitcase and turn to him, your expression unreadable. “Let me go, Charles.” You roll the suitcase toward the door.
Charles follows you through the apartment, desperation clawing at his insides. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so, so sorry. Please, just give me another chance!”
You stop at the front door, finally meeting his gaze. Your eyes are dry, but there is a deep sadness etched onto your features. “Why should I give you another chance when you didn’t give me or our relationship a second thought?”
“No, wait!” He rushes after you, grabbing your arm. You shrug him off easily, pausing with your hand on the knob to look back at him one last time.
“I used to think you were my soulmate,” you say quietly. “But you’ve shown me who you really are. I can’t keep loving a lie.”
“Don’t do this!” he pleads, desperation clawing at his throat. “Don’t just give up on us, on everything we had!”
You pause at the front door, finally turning to face him fully. “You gave up first, Charles. Not me.”
He opens his mouth, but no words come out. Because you’re right — he’s the one who destroyed this, who sacrificed your life together for one selfish moment.
Your jaw tightens slightly, the first flicker of emotion he’s seen. “Goodbye, Charles.”
You turn and walk out the door, pulling it shut behind you with a final click.
Charles is left staring at the closed door, the deafening silence around him. He’s not sure how long he stands there, frozen, replaying your parting words in his mind. Goodbye, you’d said, without any anger or tears.
Just … goodbye.
***
Months later, Charles is seated in the front row at Milan Fashion Week, watching the Ferrari Style runway show with a tight smile plastered on his face. He’s here for publicity, to keep up appearances, even though the last thing he wants is to be thrust into the spotlight tonight.
Not when you are walking in the show.
He tries not to hold his breath as each new model struts down the sleek crimson catwalk. He’s successful at keeping his cool, nodding occasionally at a particularly striking outfit, until suddenly … there you are.
You emerge from the backstage wings, a vision in deep Ferrari red from head to toe. But it’s not just a dress or evening gown. No, the Spanish flag and bold 55 displayed proudly on the front of the outfit leave no doubt — you’re wearing a feminine version of his teammate’s race suit.
Charles’ jaw goes slack as you move with confidence, head held high, every inch the picture of poise and strength. Of a woman who has moved on, left him and their broken relationship in the rearview mirror.
His hands clench in his lap as you pivot at the end of the runway. Even from here, he can see that characteristic glint in your eyes, the spark that had drawn him to you in the first place. The same spark that had been extinguished in those final moments at your shared apartment.
As the show wraps up and the other models join you, Charles rises shakily. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he has no right. But the masochistic urge to see you up close, to try and speak to you for the first time in months, is overpowering.
He makes his way backstage, flashing his credentials to bypass security. A deafening mix of cheers and laughter guides him towards the dressing area, where he finds a cluster of models still in their runway looks, giddily celebrating.
And there you are in the center, radiant and alive in a way he hasn’t seen in so long. A tall, broad-shouldered man he doesn’t recognize moves towards you, a massive bouquet of red roses in his hand.
Something dark and ugly rears up in Charles’ chest as the man leans down, offering you the flowers with a brilliant smile. Your returning grin is equally bright as you accept them, lifting the vibrant blooms to inhale their sweet scent.
Of course you have suitors lining up, Charles thinks bitterly. Look at you — confident, successful, leaving him and your painful history together far behind. Who wouldn’t want to give their entire heart to someone like you?
The irrational flare of jealousy is like acid in his veins as you turn to the man, mouth opening to undoubtedly offer your gratitude. But then, shockingly, the man simply pivots towards a nearby male model, gripping his lapels and pulling him into a searing kiss.
Charles blinks dumbly as the pair continue their heated embrace, seemingly oblivious to the raucous cheers and whoops from the other models, you included.
Even as the tight knot of jealousy in Charles’ chest loosens, it’s replaced by something worse — a sinking feeling of regret as he watches you from his hidden vantage point.
You look … happy.
Vibrant.
Surrounded by friends and uplifted by your success, without him holding you back with his selfish mistakes.
Why did he ever think confronting you backstage was a good idea? You’ve clearly moved on to an exciting new chapter, one he has no place in. Not after how much he broke you, shattered the loving core you’d shared.
You throw your head back in a full-bellied laugh at something one of the other models says. Even from here, even with the distance he forced between you, the uninhibited joy on your face in that moment cuts straight to Charles’ heart.
“Hey, you lost back here?” A rough voice breaks into his thoughts. Charles turns to find a burly security guard eyeing him suspiciously.
“I … no. No, I was just leaving.” Charles forces his feet into motion, turning on his heel to all but flee from the scene of your happiness.
As painful as it is seeing how beautifully you’re thriving without him, he has no one to blame but himself. He’s the one who threw away the greatest thing he ever had. You owe him nothing, certainly not delaying your healing by dredging up the past.
Even if watching you move on cuts deeper than any physical wound.
***
The salty Sardinian breeze ruffles Charles’ hair as he leans back on the plush deck lounger, soaking in the warm August sun. For the first few days of their annual family yacht trip, he’d felt the knots of tension slowly unraveling from his shoulders as the clear blue waters and simple routines of life at sea worked their magic.
His mother’s gentle humming as she read nearby, the sounds of his brothers horsing around and doing cannonballs off the stern, the nights spent under a blanket of stars — it had almost been enough to fully distract him from thoughts of you.
Almost.
But of course, nothing can ever be that simple.
“What the hell is that!” Arthur’s annoyed shout breaks the tranquil silence.
Charles squints against the glare over the water to see what his brother is griping about. At first, it’s just a speck on the horizon. But as it draws nearer, he can make out the sleek, gleaming white lines of another yacht — one nearly triple the size of his own comparatively modest vessel.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Charles mutters under his breath as the ostentatious floating palace drops anchor mere yards from their private little cove. So much for the serenity they’d been enjoying.
He rises, moving to the railing with narrowed eyes as the other yacht’s passengers begin to emerge on the decks above them, raucous cheers and laughter cutting through the previously still air. The sound is abrasive, grating on Charles’ very last nerve.
Until a very specific, very familiar laugh rings out.
It can’t be … can it?
Charles freezes, his heart jackrabbiting as your unmistakable voice and bright, bubbling giggle reach him across the waters. He watches, feeling like he’s been doused in ice water, as you come into view alongside a group of equally vibrant, beautiful people.
Of course it’s you. Who else could it possibly be, here to upend his few days of hard-won peace?
You lean over the railing, your sunglasses sliding down your nose as you peer down at the crystal clear waters. Even from here, even with the distance separating you, Charles is struck by your radiant, carefree smile. When was the last time he saw you look so … effortlessly happy?
Before he can spiral too far down that winding road, you whip off your sunglasses and straighten, pulling the flowing fabric of your cover-up over your head in one smooth motion. You toss it aside carelessly, revealing the deep navy string bikini underneath as you take a few steps back from the railing.
Charles’ mouth goes dry as he tracks the sway of your hips, the confident, easy way you carry yourself in just that tiny scrap of swimwear. And then, with a bright peal of laughter, you’re sprinting forward and sailing over the railing, tucking into a flawless backflip before slicing into the glittering waves below.
A chorus of cheers and whoops erupts from your friends as they follow your graceful leap, one by one pelting into the water in your wake like a stream of sleek dolphin dancers. Charles watches, his earlier frustration morphing into something darker and much more complicated, as your head breaks the surface, tendrils of your soaked hair clinging to the graceful curves of your neck and shoulders.
You toss your head back, slicking the dripping strands away from your face as you tread water easily, that brilliant, freed smile never slipping. How long has it been since Charles saw you look so radiant, so at peace, so … alive?
“Mon ami, close your mouth before you start drooling all over the deck.”
Joris’ voice startles Charles from his reverie. He blinks, only then realizing his hands are clenched tightly around the cool metal railing, knuckles straining white. His best friend arches an expectant brow as Charles quickly averts his eyes, flushing hotly.
“I wasn’t ...” he starts weakly, but Joris simply scoffs.
“Yeah, okay mate. Keep telling yourself that.” Joris settles in beside him, bare feet kicked up on the railing as his eyes track over to your group, now engaged in an intense game of chicken fight among the gentle waves. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”
The resentful scowl that tugs at Charles’ mouth is automatic, instinctive. “I couldn’t care less how she looks,” he lies through gritted teeth.
Even to his own ears, the petulant deflection sounds pathetic. Joris raises an unimpressed brow. “Could’ve fooled me, with how you were eye-fucking her from over here just now.”
Charles’ flush deepens as your bright, delighted laughter rings out again, echoing across the waters. “It’s not like that,” he insists, even as his gaze traitorously tracks after the source of that sound. “I was just … surprised to see her here, that’s all.”
“Sure, yeah. And I’m the Prince of Monaco.” Joris snorts, shaking his head. “Listen, man, I get it-”
“You don’t get anything,” Charles bites out, rounding on his friend as frustration boils over. “You have no idea what it’s like seeing her like … like that, after everything. She’s just moved on like our entire relationship meant nothing!”
The ugly admission hangs between them in the still air, Charles panting slightly from the force of the outburst. Joris watches him cautiously for a long moment before speaking. “That’s not fair, Charles. You’re the one who-”
“I know!” Charles cuts him off sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know what I did, alright? You don’t have to remind me.”
He sinks back against the railing, suddenly exhausted down to his very bones. Out across the waves, you’re perched atop one of your friend’s shoulders, engaged in an epic battle against another pair that’s quickly devolving into a fit of violent splashing.
“I know I screwed everything up. I have to live with that every single day.” Charles’ throat feels tight, watched. “I just … I never thought I’d have to watch her being so happy without me too.”
The fight seems to leave Joris as he takes in Charles’ miserable, broken expression. The other man sighs, squeezing Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry. That’s … that’s got to be tough as hell to see. But you can’t blame her for moving on and being happy again, you know? What you did … well, you really broke her heart.”
Charles doesn’t respond, letting the words hang heavy between them as your melodic laugh continues to drift towards them. He knows Joris is right — he has no one to blame for this gut-wrenching situation but himself. But that doesn’t make watching your vibrant, beautiful soul shine so bright without him there any easier.
***
Charles guides his Ferrari up to the valet stand outside one of his favorite restaurants in Monaco, the engine purring like a contented cat. He throws the car into park and kills the ignition, savoring that last potent growl of the powerful motor.
There’s just something different about a Ferrari, something quintessentially Italian and bred for speed. He runs an appreciative hand along the sleek black curve of the door as he waits for the valet. This is a beast made for the racetrack, for pushing past limits. Not like those garish, overcompensating-
The loud rumble of another engine cuts into his thoughts. Charles looks up in disdain as a blinding yellow Lamborghini pulls up.
“Trying too hard, as always,” Charles mutters to himself as he watches the valet park the ostentatious machine. Could a car be any more desperate for attention? Absolutely zero class or restraint.
He climbs out, already half-dismissing it from his mind, when a familiar figure emerges from the restaurant entrance. The valet is hastening to assist, offering a hand as she descends the front steps in a form-fitting crimson dress. Even from here, even with the perfectly curled hair and smokey makeup, Charles would know the line of those shoulders, the elegant curve of her neck anywhere.
You.
His breath catches as you smile warmly at the young valet, sliding him what looks like a generous tip before slipping into the driver’s seat of the garish yellow Lamborghini and roaring off without a backwards glance.
Charles is still gaping after you, mouth slightly ajar, when the second valet appears at his side.
“Good evening, monsieur. Shall I park your car for you?”
He blinks dumbly for a moment before recovering. “Yes, please. Thank you.”
Sliding the young man his own tip, Charles pivots on his heel and strides into the elegant dining room, mind whirling. Of all the cars in the world, he never would have pegged you for a Lamborghini person.
Then again, he clearly doesn’t know you like he thought he did. Not the new you, the version free of him and his betrayals.
He takes his usual table in the back corner, ordering an expensive Chianti before he can even glance at the menu. Tonight calls for relying on old vices. As he swirls the deep burgundy liquid, he finds himself drifting back to your matching crimson dress, how it clung to your curves in such a delicious way.
Even when you were furious with him, you could never quite hide the passion that smoldered underneath. Charles had spent many blissful nights stoking those flames, coaxing them into an all-consuming wildfire of want and need. He misses the scorching heat of your desire, your clever hands and wicked mouth setting his body ablaze.
He closes his eyes, letting the memory of your bare skin flush against his wash over him. Those nights of tangled limbs and breathy gasps, when nothing else mattered but struggling to get impossibly closer, as if your very beings could meld into one.
With a frustrated groan, Charles slams back the rest of his wine. What is he doing, torturing himself with memories of your lovemaking? You’ve clearly moved on to new chapters, new … cars. New everything, really.
And yet he can’t quite extinguish the gnawing sense of dissonance. A Lamborghini? Something so utterly over-the-top and desperate for attention just doesn’t seem like your style. You were always more understated … more elegant.
Not that it matters, he reminds himself firmly. Whatever choices you make now are no longer any of his business. He systematically strips away the judgements, the fragile sense of still knowing you intimately. After what he did, he sacrificed that right completely.
The waiter reappears with a fresh glass of wine and Charles takes it gratefully. He’s determined to focus on learning to untangle you from his thoughts and simply enjoy his evening. He came here for the ambiance, the food, the escape.
But no matter how he tries, your image keeps invading his mind’s eye — sliding into that sunshine yellow machine, stunning in that slinky red number and your lips curved in a contented smile. Content without him still lingering in the shadowed corners of your life.
And then it hits him like a slap across the face — you in that screaming yellow Lamborghini wasn’t about attention at all. It was the opposite — a declaration of fierce independence. Of staking your own claim, making your own flagrantly joyful choices without a care for his opinions or approval. Free from his reputation, his expectations, his name.
The realization is like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. You’ve remade yourself so thoroughly, forging a vibrant path that has absolutely nothing to do with him. While he’s been stuck in neutral, spinning his wheels and passively watching you soar out of reach.
A strange sense of loss washes over Charles. As badly as he’d wanted you to find your way again after his unforgivable betrayal, he can’t deny how disorienting it is to realize you’re not the same woman he fell in love with all those years ago.
You’re a new version, one he isn’t familiar with at all. One who makes choices and carries herself in a way he doubts he’ll ever fully understand, no matter how much he wishes he could go back and undo every selfish mistake that set these changes into motion.
Charles blinks against the unexpected sting in his eyes as he stares at the table. On some deeper level, he knows this remolding of your identity, this blossoming into someone both thrillingly unfamiliar yet unmistakably you, should be cause for celebration. It means you’re healing, leaving his mistakes in the past and coming into your own again in spite of his ugliest failures.
He just wishes he didn’t have to watch the entire metamorphosis from a distance.
***
Charles squints against the bright morning sunlight as he strides through the paddock towards his garage. A slight chill still clings to the air, promising another sweltering afternoon session once the sun reaches its peak. He adjusts his cap lower over his eyes, trying not to dwell too much on the practice times from yesterday. There’s still so much fine-tuning needed to find those crucial extra tenths of a second.
Passing by the Red Bull motorhome, a flash of familiar flowing hair catches his eye. Charles freezes mid-step, his heart stuttering. It couldn’t be … could it?
But then the figure moves fully into view and there’s no mistaking the delicate slope of your jaw and those cheekbones he knows as well as his own reflection. It’s definitely you, slipping inside the sleek facade of the Red Bull motorhome with an easy smile.
Charles blinks dumbly, certain his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Why in the world would you be going into the Red Bull motorhome? You never had any connection to their team or drivers before, back when ...
When you were still together.
Charles swallows hard, dragging his gaze away. He must have imagined it. Sometimes his subconscious still gets carried away, superimposing your presence into random moments or places like an echo of a life he can never return to. Seeing you here, intertwined with his racing world in some way, is just too improbable.
Shaking off the strange moment, he refocuses on the day ahead. But over the next two days, he can’t seem to avoid catching glimpses of you around the Red Bull garage and hospitality areas. There you are chatting with one of their engineers just outside their motorhome entrance. Then sharing a hushed conversation off to the side with their chief strategist.
Finally, on Sunday just before the race, he watches with raised eyebrows as you throw your head back laughing at something Max Verstappen says, the Red Bull driver’s own grin wide and appreciative.
Some sort of friendship surely couldn’t explain this level of access and familiarity could it? A sour knot of suspicion begins twisting in Charles’ gut. There’s no way … no way Max would ...
But he has to know.
As the Formula 1 circus begins packing up after the race, Charles spots you slipping away from the Red Bull group once more, clearly headed back to their closed-off sanctuary. He watches Max linger outside, fiddling idly with his cap as he waits.
It’s the perfect opportunity. Charles doesn’t even think, just lets his feet carry him across the crowded paddock until he’s standing across from his fellow driver.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The accusation comes out half-snarl before he can stop himself.
Max turns, eyebrows shooting up. “... Charles? What are you on about?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Charles jabs a finger back towards the motorhome you disappeared into. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been with her all weekend. How you two can’t seem to get enough of each other’s company.”
Realization dawns and Max actually has the audacity to laugh. “Wait … is this about Y/N? You jealous she’s been hanging around our team?”
White-hot fury lances through Charles and he has to grit his teeth against the heated words that want to come spilling out. “You think this is funny? Cozying up to my ex-fianceé less than a year after I lost her? What, you couldn’t find someone else so you had to go after her?”
Max shakes his head slowly, clearly fighting to keep his expression neutral. “Damn … I didn’t realize the great Charles Leclerc makes the rules on who Y/N can associate with these days.”
The blatant dismissal in his tone is like a physical slap. Charles recoils slightly before squaring his shoulders. “Don’t turn this around on me. I know what I saw, how cozy you two were-”
“Easy there, tiger.” Max cuts him off, holding up one hand placatingly. “First of all, Y/N and I are just friends. I happen to have my own gorgeous girlfriend, but thanks for looking out.”
He pauses, letting the implication that Charles is being irrational and out-of-line sink in. When Charles doesn’t immediately retort, Max continues.
“Second … you seem to have conveniently forgotten that you’re the one who threw away your life with Y/N. The one who cheated and broke her heart. You don’t get to dictate a damn thing about who she spends time with or how she chooses to live her life now.”
The words slam into Charles with brutal force, knocking the breath from his lungs. Because Max is right — he has no claim here, no right to make assumptions or demands. Not after what he did.
Seeming to sense he’s scored a direct hit, Max shakes his head again. “Look, I get it’s probably hard watching her move on fully, start over without you. But that’s on you, not her. You’re going to have to learn to deal with the consequences of your own actions.”
The quiet truth in his voice is like a white-hot brand. Charles swallows hard, suddenly incapable of meeting Max’s level gaze.
“Then … then why has she been around your team so much?” It comes out sounding more petulant than he intended, a desperate scramble to regain some levity. “If she’s not … you know ...”
Max huffs out a soft laugh, stooping to retrieve his discarded cap. “That answer isn’t mine to give.” He slides it back on, fixing Charles with one last searching look. “But if I had to guess? She’s putting herself first now. Pursuing her own path, one that has nothing to do with you anymore.”
He turns towards the Red Bull motorhome, tossing his final phrase over his shoulder. “I’d get used to it, if I were you.”
Charles watches him disappear inside, leaving him rooted in place and feeling completely lost. The crowd continues to disperse around him, teams and personnel breaking down equipment and packing things away.
Yet Max’s words keep ricocheting through his mind on an endless loop.
She’s pursuing her own path now. One that has nothing to do with you anymore.
It makes perfect sense of course — the laughter, the camaraderie, the ease of her presence in Red Bull’s inner sanctum. The seamless way she navigated their ecosystem all weekend long while Charles remained oblivious.
Because you’ve fully remade your entire existence into one that no longer intersects with his whatsoever.
As the paddock slowly empties around him, Charles finally forces one foot in front of the other, his legs feeling like overcooked noodles. Part of him wants to stick around until you reemerge, to demand that you explain this bold new reality you’ve carved out.
But what would be the point? You don’t owe him any explanations, any part of your life now. Those days are over, gone forever thanks to his own bone-deep failings.
So he keeps walking, leaving you and your mystery behind. After all, hadn’t you made it crystal clear from the very beginning?
This was your path to reclaim now, a future that was yours and yours alone to chase.
***
Charles frowns down at the envelope in his hand as he pushes open the door to his apartment, his mind still half-focused on the looming Austrian Grand Prix. The return address is from some high-end clothing boutique in Paris, but it’s the name neatly printed below that makes his heart stutter.
Y/N Y/L/N.
For a long moment, he simply stands there in the entryway, turning the innocent envelope over and over in his hands. How did this slip through the cracks and wind up here, at what used to be your shared home before everything combusted?
He traces the graceful swoop of your name with one finger, memories flickering through his mind’s eye. Coming home from races to find you curled up on the sofa with the latest fashion magazines scattered around you, making notes in the margins. Or catching you in the huge walk-in closet the two of you designed together, carefully hanging up some new couture purchase with a reverent touch.
You always did have impeccable taste. Charles can’t even find it in himself to judge the fancy Parisian boutique’s stationary now clutched in his hands.
Making a split-second decision, he spins on his heel and heads right back out the door, letter in hand. If this innocuous slip of mail made its way here by some shipping error, it’s the perfect excuse to … what? See you again? Try to explain himself one more time?
He’s not sure, but either way, the pull to seek you out is utterly irresistible now that this connection has fallen into his lap. Charles makes it two blocks before realizing with a start that he has absolutely no idea where you’re living these days.
The logical side of his brain reminds him he could simply call or text to get your new address and make arrangements to pass the letter along. But the thought of such mundane formalities after all this time, after the way things were upended so brutally, is laughable.
So instead he lets his feet guide him towards the upscale apartment building you lived in before moving into his place. There’s a chance the leasing office might have a forwarding address on file he can use. A small voice whispers that this is almost certainly a futile quest, that you’ve no doubt successfully untangled every last thread of your life from his.
But he has to try.
The lobby is blessedly quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and foot traffic he remembers from past visits. Charles straightens his shoulders and approaches the front desk, where a youngish woman with a bright smile greets him.
“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”
“Hi, yes, I’m actually trying to track down the new address for a former tenant — Y/N Y/L/N?” He carefully pencils in the last name, watching as the woman’s face scrunches in thought for a beat before her eyes widen in recognition.
“Of course, Mademoiselle Y/L/N. One moment.”
She taps efficiently at her computer, scanning whatever information has popped up on the screen. Just watching her work makes Charles’ heart kick up its rhythm in nervous anticipation.
“Ah, yes, here we are. It seems Mademoiselle Y/L/N moved out around three months ago. She actually left instructions for any further mail that slips through to be forwarded to ...”
She pauses, glancing up at Charles with newfound curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Are you a relative, sir? Mademoiselle Y/L/N requested her new address only be released to family.”
“I’m … an old friend,” he answers carefully, unsure if that bends the truth too far or not. “We used to be very close.”
The woman’s polite smile dims ever-so-slightly at his choice of words, like she can read the subtext loud and clear. Used to be very close … until he completely obliterated that closeness.
“I see,” she says neutrally. “Well, in that case, I’m afraid I can’t provide her new contact details without explicit permission. But the residents currently leasing her old unit have been directly forwarding any mail to her, if that would help?”
It’s not ideal, but a frustratingly belated realization stops Charles from arguing further — you clearly requested your whereabouts be kept private now, at least from him. Probably a wise decision, all things considered.
“Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”
She rattles off the apartment number and Charles commits it to memory with a polite nod before turning to leave. As he crosses the airy lobby once more, he can’t resist glancing up towards the corner unit he knows was yours, absently wondering if someone else’s belongings line those shelves now, if there are new photos or mementos dotting the surfaces where yours once stood.
He shakes off the melancholy pang — you’ve forged an entirely new existence somewhere far away. Of course your old place has been repopulated, just like all the love you breathed into it has dissipated like smoke.
The apartment door opens after the third solid knock, revealing a twenty-something woman with a confused furrow in her brow. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m actually here about a piece of mail for the previous tenant? The front desk said to bring it here.” Charles quickly proffers the letter before she can raise further objections or shut the door in his face completely.
“Oh.” She accepts it hesitantly, turning it over in her hands just like Charles had done earlier. “Yeah, the last tenant did leave instructions for stuff like this, now that you mention it ...”
She trails off, eyes narrowing slightly as she studies him more intently. He knows that look, can pinpoint the exact moment realization blossoms.
“Wait … you’re not Charles Leclerc, are you?”
So much for anonymity. He opens his mouth, fully prepared to deny and deflect as the tension stretches between them-
“Oh my god, you are!” The young woman actually gasps, one hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes go saucer-wide. “I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. I mean, sorry about … you know. That entire situation with Y/N. My boyfriend is such a fan of yours though, I can’t even-”
“It’s alright,” Charles cuts her off on pure instinct, the words rushing out in a bid to stem the conversational swerve that’s clearly brewing. “I actually stopped by to pass that letter along, but also see if there’s a current address where I could reach Y/N? Perhaps send her things directly from now on.”
His polite inquiry has the desired effect — the woman’s starry-eyed expression shutters again as she refocuses. “Ah, well, about that … Y/N asked for anything like this to be forwarded to an address in Austria once she moved there. Let me grab that for you.”
Charles waits in silence as she ducks back inside, busying herself with finding the details. Austria? Of all places, why would you have relocated to-
“Got it.” She reappears, a small slip of paper in her outstretched hand. “This is where you can send anything for Y/N. Though I obviously don’t know all the details about … you know. Your situation.”
He takes the slip without comment, just a curt nod of acknowledgement. The woman rocks back on her heels, worrying her lower lip slightly.
“For what it’s worth … I think it’s really cool you’ve tried to stay in contact, you know? Even after everything. That’s commitment.”
Her sincere tone grates against the ugly truth they’re both tap-dancing around — that he’s the one who torched your commitment beyond repair with his selfish actions.
“Thanks,” is all he can muster, already turning away and pocketing the slip of paper with your new Austrian address before she can say anything further.
As he retraces his steps to the ground floor, Charles finds himself clutching the envelope even tighter, knuckles going white. So you’ve fled all the way to Austria now, put an entire nation’s length between your old life and whatever rising present you’re building. No wonder you didn’t want your location breathed to just anyone, let alone the man who detonated your world.
Well, he got what he came for in more ways than one. He has your new address now, the roadmap to whatever path you’ve started down without him sketched out in his hands. Part of him longs to deviate from his own schedule and just … show up, uninvited, on your new doorstep. To try and explain himself, or at least attempt to understand what grander journey you’ve embarked on.
But the same voice that cautioned him earlier rings out once more — you’ve made it perfectly clear you want to sever any remaining ties or connections to him, no matter how tenuous. Perhaps out of necessity to fully heal or simply because you’re done having any part of Charles Leclerc tarnish your horizons any longer.
Either way, you’ve spoken through your silence and distance. Chasing you down now, while perhaps gratifying a selfish impulse of his own, would only disrespect the boundaries you’ve erected.
As Charles reaches his car and slides in behind the wheel, he can’t resist rereading the brief string of characters and numbers that make up your new address. He commits them to memory, sketching out a crude map in his mind’s eye of where exactly this secluded town lies in the looping alpine valleys and mountain peaks.
Part of him longs to program the coordinates into his GPS immediately, to seek you out while this connection still blazes hot and bright between you. But harsh realities keep crashing in — the Austrian Grand Prix is only days away, his own commitments and schedule unforgiving.
No, the wise choice would be to simply send the wayward letter on to its intended destination. To let you live in peace, unburdened by his disruptive presence any longer.
As Charles fires up the engine and eases out onto the main street, he catches one last glimpse of your old apartment building shrinking in the rearview mirror. He thinks of the wide-eyed woman’s parting comment about “commitment” and has to laugh bitterly.
Commitment is precisely what he failed to uphold, the whispered promises he shattered into pieces with his own calloused hands. You owe him no further explanations, no more fragments of yourself after he decimated the love you shared.
The seconds will stretch on towards the next race, the next city, the next routine of focused preparation. But part of Charles’ mind will linger in that small Austrian town, caught in the mystery of the new life you’ve built.
A life he has no right to reinsert himself into, not anymore. All he can do is wish you well from a distance and keep putting kilometers between you with every spin of his tires.
Kilometers and kilometers of regret.
***
Charles stares down at the navigation screen, his thumb hovering over the go button. This is ridiculous — completely irrational and just begging for disaster. He has no business showing up unannounced like this, disrupting whatever new life you’ve so carefully constructed.
And yet … the Austrian address you have been forwarding mail to is already programmed in, glowing softly with the swipe of his finger. He could be there in just over nine hours, barring any major delays on the route into Salzburg province.
His mind races, cycling through every logical argument for abandoning this reckless idea immediately. You’re entitled to your privacy, your fresh start far away from the wreckage he created. Anything more would be him selfishly barging back into your existence, the one place he swore to never intrude again.
Against his better judgement, Charles swipes the go button. Almost instantly, the robotic voice begins spouting turn-by-turn directions, the path to your doorstep stretching out in vivid digital detail.
What’s done is done. He’ll simply … take it one step at a time.
The winding Alpine roads are a marvel of feats in civil engineering, the roadways expertly carved into the towering rock faces in sweeping vistas. Even Charles, who has logged countless miles of serpentine racetracks and courses around the globe, can’t help admiring the impossible scenery whipping past.
Evergreen forests give way to snow-capped peaks reaching into the crisp blue sky. ancient castles and towering church spires alike keep popping into view around each new switchback turn. He can’t shake the nagging sense that this entire region is something ripped from the pages of a storybook, a landscape too perfectly picturesque to be real.
Which is perhaps why the sight of the enormous wrought-iron gates materializing up ahead doesn’t immediately faze him at all.
“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS chirps pleasantly as Charles slows the Ferrari, trying to comprehend the sprawling estate now stretching out before him. This can’t possibly be right, can it?
Lush gardens and perfectly manicured shrubbery serpentine around the perimeter in intricate geometric patterns, eventually yielding to an emerald green meadow dotted with ancient growth trees. A gravel path splits the sweeping lawns up ahead, clearly carving a wide berth around … is that an actual lakehouse?
Charles blinks in stunned stupor, instinctively searching for some sort of address marker or sign as he creeps up the main drive towards the gates. Instead, his eyes are drawn to the imposing manor itself, all honey-colored stone and arched windows that wouldn’t look out of place in a Renaissance fresco. Turrets and spires spiral upwards towards the cloudless sky, practically winking in the summer sunshine.
This has to be some colossal mistake.
He’s fully prepared to simply turn around and peel back out of this fairytale estate when the crackle of a speaker breaks the silence.
“Hallo? This is a private residence. Please identify yourself and state your business.” The clipped, accented words carry an undeniable tone of authority.
Shit. Charles swallows hard against his suddenly dry throat, throwing the car into park as he leans towards the callbox mounted on the ivy-laced exterior wall.
“Ah, yes, hello … my name is Charles Leclerc. I’m actually here to-” He breaks off, fresh uncertainty bubbling up. He’s here to what, exactly? Catch a glimpse of the new life you’ve created? Throw himself at your feet and beg forgiveness once more?
“One moment, please,” the disembodied voice instructs crisply before the line goes dead silent once more.
Charles sits back, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. He should go, right now before this reaches the point of no return. He could simply turn around, act like this was all some misguided joke and leave you undisturbed. It’s the mature, sensible choice.
Instead, his pulse kicks up into a furious gallop as the massive front gates begin slowly grinding open with a metal groan, clear invitation to proceed. Charles doesn’t move for a long beat, waiting for the second half of the intercom to bark out a warning, for security to appear and politely hustle him off the premises.
But nothing. The gates yawn open further, revealing the full splendor of the estate lying in wait beyond.
Before he can think better of it, Charles eases the Ferrari forward. The crunch of the pale gravel beneath his tires seems to echo off the looming stone walls as he winds deeper into the property, the boundaries blurring between reality and a dreamscape more suited for the silver screen.
Finally, he rounds the last curve and the manor in its full glory stretches out before him. Every inch of the sprawling facade is a carved, architectural marvel — from the polished lintels to the intricate mouldings encircling each enormous window and doorway.
He kills the engine and simply sits there, once again grappling with unprecedented uncertainty. What was he thinking, assuming he could just brazenly roll up and … what? Vent months worth of grievances and miscommunications in a casual chat? As if the life you’ve so clearly cultivated here could ever intersect with his own beaten path again?
Charles climbs out of the car on legs that seem determined to wobble out from under him. He’s vaguely aware of the thunder of footsteps on stone before one of the massive oak front doors swings wide and a figure fills the entryway.
“Charles Leclerc, I presume?” The man’s sharp tone instantly catches Charles off guard. He’s younger than expected, perhaps mid-thirties, with an athletic build and carefully groomed dark hair. Despite the informal lounge pants and linen shirt, an unmistakable air of assurance rolls off him in waves.
“Er … yes. Hello.” Charles hears the uncertainty edging into his own greeting, quickly scrambling to fill the conversational pause. “I didn’t realize Y/N had … household staff now.”
The words are out before he can fully snatch them back. The man’s expression doesn’t so much as flicker, but there’s suddenly a tension charging the space between them that has Charles’ palms prickling with sweat.
“I’ll inform her you’ve arrived,” the man says at last, his intense gaze scanning over Charles slowly from head to toe.
Is that judgment blending into the appraisal? Regardless, Charles feels abruptly self-conscious — he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of such frank scrutiny today. But then again, he’s the one who inserted himself into unknown territory here.
“If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the receiving hall?” The open doorway and subtle tilt of the man’s head is clear invitation, one Charles has no choice but to mutely accept.
He climbs the three stairs to the arched entrance, pausing just before the threshold to turn back with furrowed brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your-”
“Mark.” The reply is clipped but courteous enough, at least. “Y/N should be down shortly.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and disappears through the foyer, leaving Charles to hover there alone for a beat too long before finally stepping across the threshold. Each footfall on the gleaming marble seems to ricochet off the domed ceiling above, bouncing back in mocking echoes.
As his gaze travels around the cavernous space, roving over the hanging art and intricate tilework, Charles can’t quite bite back the breathless huff of amazement.
Where in the actual hell are you living, Y/N?
***
Charles follows a step behind Mark as the other man leads them deeper into the estate. He can’t resist craning his neck, taking in every jaw-dropping detail — the soaring archways, the intricate brickwork, the Venetian plaster and artworks adorning the walls.
It’s the art itself that begins nagging at him first. Charles frowns slightly as they pass yet another larger-than-life canvas, this one emblazoned with the distinctive Red Bull logo and colors. Then a series of framed photographs, all seeming to depict different angles and events tied to the racing team.
“You must be quite a fan of Red Bull,” he finds himself commenting as they round a corner.
Mark half-turns, one eyebrow quirked. “You could say that.”
There’s an undercurrent to his tone that Charles can’t quite put his finger on. Before he can pry further, they emerge into some sort of sitting room or receiving area, the walls giving way to a bright, airy ambiance.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Mark gestures towards one of the plush sofas arranged in the center of the space. “I’ll have the staff inform Y/N you’re here.”
Charles nods, still trying to absorb the sheer opulence around him as he takes a seat. How in the world did you find yourself situated in a place like this? The nagging questions about Mark’s potential connection to the Red Bull team continue to swirl.
He’s pulled from his ruminations by the sound of your voice filtering down the hallway, breezing and melodic as ever.
“Babe? You down here?”
Charles stiffens instinctively at the endearment, his eyes snapping over to where Mark is casually lounging back against the opposite sofa. There’s no missing the tender smile playing across the other man’s lips.
“In the sitting room, liebling. We have a guest.”
The teasing lilt in his response has Charles’ skin prickling with something he can’t quite identify. He rises halfway as your footsteps grow nearer, not wanting to seem rude by remaining fully seated.
“Oh, a guest! Who-”
You sweep into the room still chattering away cheerfully, entirely oblivious until your gaze finally lands squarely on Charles. The breath punches out of you in a surprised rush, your entire body going rigid as the words die on your lips.
For an endless heartbeat, you simply stare at Charles, motionless but for the slight part of your lips. He watches as a faint flush blossoms high on your cheekbones, long lashes fluttering rapidly.
“... Charles? What are you doing here?”
He blinks dumbly at the sound of your voice, hushed with disbelief yet still so familiar after all this time. “I … you got a letter. From Paris, I think. It arrived at our — at my old place by mistake.”
Cursing his stammering, Charles reaches automatically for his inner jacket pocket, fumbling until he can produce the crumpled envelope bearing your name. “I didn’t know if other things might keep getting sent there, so I thought ...”
He trails off lamely, unable to properly articulate the impulse that propelled him all this way. To deliver one measly piece of mail? To re-establish some connection, no matter how fragile? He realizes with a start that you’ve moved closer, extending one hand to gently accept the letter from him.
“Thank you,” you murmur, eyes momentarily skittering away from his probing gaze. “That was very considerate.”
The moment stretches out, silence expanding in the cavernous space. Charles watches as your free hand flutters unconsciously upwards to fiddle with the collar of your shirt, struggling to find his voice once more.
“I didn’t realize you had, ah … you had a place like this now.” His attempt at nonchalance is so piss-poor he wants to cringe. “And … company, I suppose?”
A delicate snort from the other side of the room reminds Charles he’s not alone with you. His gaze snaps over to find Mark watching the exchange with an inquisitive smirk, arms crossed casually over his chest.
“Company?” He echoes the word airily, igniting a fresh bloom of color in your cheeks. “This must be terribly confusing for you.”
In one seamless motion, Mark unfolds himself from the sofa and crosses the short distance to your side, slipping one possessive arm around your waist. The intimacy of the gesture has Charles’ mouth going dry.
“Allow me to clarify — I’m Mark. Mark Mateschitz.” The subtle emphasis on the surname hits Charles like a bucket of ice water, comprehension crashing over him in waves.
“Mateschitz?” He hears himself repeating dumbly. “As in … Dietrich Mateschitz? The founder of Red Bull?”
Mark’s grin stretches into something wolfishly triumphant at Charles’ stunned expression. “The very same. My father.”
He lets the implication expand in the silence barreling down on them from all sides. Charles numbly finds the nearest armchair and sinks into it, struggling to fully process the revelation.
Of course. All the Red Bull imagery and iconography made so much more sense now. This sprawling, palatial estate clearly belonged to the family behind the team and brand, the multinational empire. Which meant … you weren’t simply a friendly acquaintance chumming around the Red Bull garages.
No, you were with the actual Mateschitz heir, the current co-owner of the goddamn company himself.
The sound of you softly clearing your throat breaks through his whirling thoughts. When Charles glances up, the vision that greets him is like a vise around his heart — you and Mark cuddled close together on the loveseat, his arm still looped possessively around your waist as you toy absently with the ends of his dark hair. Two people radiating intimacy and comfort, completely at home in one another’s embrace.
“We met during a Wings for Life charity run, actually,” you offer at last, almost as an olive branch. “We just … hit it off, I suppose. One thing led to another and … well, here we are.”
Mark’s fingers trail in a barely-there caress up and down your arm as you speak, his gaze locked adoringly on your profile. The look is so tender, so inescapably fond that it makes Charles’ chest constrict painfully.
“She’s a force of nature,” Mark says simply, the corners of his eyes crinkling with quiet mirth. “What else could I do but get caught up in her orbit?”
A flush blossoms high on your cheeks, but you don’t turn away, holding Mark’s fond gaze steadily. In that moment, the love you two share is almost a tangible force, shimmering and alive in the air between you. It’s beautiful and devastating all at once.
“I, uh, I should go.” The words leave Charles in a dazed mumble before he can reconsider. He rises abruptly, needing to create space between himself and the intimacies unfolding so easily in front of him.
As if snapping out of a reverie, you look up sharply. “Charles, wait-”
“No, really, it’s fine.” He tries valiantly to paste on a casual smile, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Thank you again for … well, you know. I’m sure I can see myself out.”
Turning on his heel, Charles makes it no more than two strides before your voice stops him once more, tinged with gentle exasperation.
“That’s the library you’re heading for. Here, let me ...”
You gently disentangle yourself from Mark’s embrace and cross the room towards a different set of double doors. Charles watches in silence as you lead the way through winding hallway after hallway with an effortless grace. Of course you know the layout of this palatial mansion like the back of your hand — this is your home now, your life.
The thought churns bitterly in his gut even as you both finally reach the arched front entrance. You turn back to face him, mouth twisting in that familiar apologetic quirk he knows so well.
“Listen, I know this was … unexpected. And maybe not the easiest thing to process.” You huff out a soft laugh, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear almost shyly. “But I’m glad you stopped by, despite everything. It was … nice to see you again.”
He blinks dumbly, at a loss for words in the face of your warm sincerity. This entire interaction has been an avalanche of emotions — the shock of discovering your romantic entanglement with the Mateschitz heir, the painful pang of watching you two’s intimacy on display, and now the remnants of affection in your tone as you bid him farewell.
It’s simply … too much. Too many conflicting feelings to deal with when his heart still bears the scar tissue of your break up.
“You too,” is all he can manage in return, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. “I, uh … I should get going if I want to make it to Spielberg before media day.”
You nod, seeming to understand his unspoken need to retreat and regroup. “Of course. Well, safe travels then.”
“We’ll see you at the Red Bull Ring,” Mark pipes up from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension with surprising joviality. “It is our home race this weekend, after all. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The reminder that you’ll be perpetually woven into the fabric of his racing life from now on hits Charles with the force of a gut punch. He swallows hard, bobbing his head in acknowledgement as you open the front door for him.
“Looking forward to it,” he lies through his teeth before turning on his heel and all but fleeing down the front steps.
He’s vaguely aware of you calling out something about having someone escort him through the grounds and to the main gate. But Charles doesn’t pause, can’t stop until he’s directed the powerful Ferrari back out onto the main roads and open air.
Only then does he finally let out the shuddering breath he’d been holding, the sweet Alpine breezes sweeping over him. He floors the accelerator, putting as much distance between himself and that fairytale estate as possible.
But no matter how fast or far he drives, he can’t outrun the image searing into his mind’s eye — you nestled so contentedly in Mark’s arms, so visibly adored and cherished. Just as you’d once been cradled in Charles’ own embrace, before he burned everything to ashes.
Blinking hard against the hot sting in his eyes, Charles white-knuckles the steering wheel and lets the endless stretches of winding road unfurl before him. There’s only one direction now — forward.
Always forward.
No looking back, no wistful what-ifs allowed. You’ve found the life and love you deserve after he shattered your world.
All he can do is wish you nothing but joy from a distance, even as his own heart disintegrates inside his chest with every step further away from you.
***
The bass line thrums through Charles’ body like a living thing as he signals for another round at the club’s private VIP bar. He can barely make out the sound of his own thoughts over the pulsating music, but that’s rather the point tonight. To drown out the ceaseless reel of memories and fragmented realizations in a haze of liquor and pounding rhythms.
“You sure about that?” The bartender has to shout to be heard, one sculpted eyebrow arching upwards as she eyes the growing collection of empty glasses. “I think you’ve had quite enough, sir.”
“I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough,” Charles snaps back, the words slurring slightly as he slaps his platinum card down with more force than intended. “Just keep them coming.”
The woman’s dubious gaze flickers briefly to somewhere over his shoulder before she simply shrugs and moves to fill his latest order. Charles slumps forward with a harsh exhale, fingers digging into his sweat-dampened curls as the relentless bassline reverberates through his bones.
“Easy there, calamar.”
The familiar voice cuts through the noise as a firm hand clasps his shoulder. Pierre slides into the open stool beside him with a concerned furrow in his brow.
“I’m starting to think my invite for a fun night out may have been a mistake.” His eyes rove over the staggering collection of empty glasses and bottles before lifting to meet Charles’ glazed stare.
“Or more like a cry for help,” he mutters, pitching his voice to be heard clearly. “Want to talk about what’s got you in such a mood?”
Charles opens his mouth but all that comes out is a bitter bark of laughter. He reaches for his newly-arrived glass, downing half the amber liquid in one go as it burns all the way to his core.
“What’s there to talk about?” The words are thick and unwieldy on his tongue. “She’s gone. Moved on better than I ever could have with some … some rich prick who treats her like his personal princess.”
He waves a sloppy hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Guy is richer than God, probably spoils her rotten with jewels and furs and … and billion dollar villas overlooking the Alps.”
His voice cracks slightly on the last word and he has to blink rapidly against the unwelcome sting in his eyes. Pierre’s forehead creases further as he watches Charles raggedly drain the rest of his glass.
“I take it your little meeting with Y/N didn’t go well?” He pitches it as a careful question, one Charles shrugs listlessly at before reaching for the nearest full glass. Pierre’s hand shoots out, closing around Charles’ wrist to impede his progress.
“I think you’ve had quite enough of that for one night,” he declares firmly. “Unless you want security dragging your drunk ass out of here, that is.”
Charles tries feebly to tug his arm free but Pierre’s grip remains vise-like. His traitorous thoughts drift back to the image of Mark’s arm so casually looped around your waist, confident in his place at your side.
“What’s he got that I don’t?” The plaintive question slips out before he can bite it back. Charles swivels glassy eyes towards his friend and teammate. “Seriously, Pierre … what can Mateschitz offer her that I couldn’t?”
A heavy silence stretches out between them, punctuated only by the thunderous pulse of the music. Pierre holds his stare steadily, clearly weighing how much harsh truth Charles can handle in his current condition.
“Well … thirty-seven billion dollars is a decent start, I would guess.”
The matter-of-fact words hit like a sucker punch to the gut. Charles flinches as if physically struck, mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ of shock.
“Jesus, have some tact,” Pierre continues crisply. “Forget the money for a second — mate, he didn’t cheat on her. He has the basic decency to stay faithful. You know … the bare minimum requirement for a relationship?”
The dig bites deep, sparking a fresh flare of white-hot shame and regret in Charles’ core. He twists his captured wrist futilely once more before giving up and dropping his head to thunk dully against the bartop.
“I thought we were past rubbing salt in the wound,” he mumbles towards the gleaming wood surface.
Pierre sighs, his grip softening enough to pull his arm free at last. “We are, we are … mostly. But you can’t honestly expect me to sit here and help you feel sorry for yourself about another man treating Y/N right after you treated her so abysmally.”
Charles squeezes his eyes shut as your face swims into focus. The light in your eyes when Mark gazed at you, the simple intimacy you radiated together ...
“I miss her,” he whispers, each word carved from shards of anguish and loss. “I miss her so damn much. And now every time I have to see her at a race or schmoozing at an event, I’ll know exactly what I threw away for one night of selfishness.”
Fat tears leak from the corners of his screwed-shut eyes, tracing hot pathways down his cheeks as Pierre watches silently. After a long stretch, Charles finally cracks one eye open to peer blearily at his friend once more.
“I need to win her back,” he declares with as much conviction as he can muster through the alcoholic fog seeping into his brain. “I’m not over her, I’ll never be over her. There has to be a way to … to make things right again, don’t you think?”
Pierre regards him steadily, arms folded across his chest. “I think … you’re drunk off your ass and in no state to be making grand romantic gestures tonight.”
Charles waves a clumsy hand, nearly toppling his remaining drink in the process. “Not tonight. But … soon. Yeah, soon I’ll figure out what her new favorite flower is or some shit. Maybe a nice bottle of whatever top-shelf champagne she likes these days. Or … or I can dedicate a race win to her! Girls go gaga over that romantic shit, right?”
He watches Pierre’s expression morph into one of pure incredulity before his friend pinches the bridge of his nose hard, eyes screwing shut with a shake of his head.
“You’re not even hearing yourself right now, are you?” Pierre asks at last, infusing as much patience into his words as possible. “This isn’t about some flowers or a bottle of bubbly or delusionally thinking you have a chance to beat Red Bull this season. You completely decimated her trust in you and demolished the entire foundation of your relationship.”
Charles squirms uncomfortably at the brutal truth. Part of him wants to get up and stalk away in a final burst of tipsy petulance.
But the rest of him knows Pierre is simply being the voice of reason — the harsh reality check he so desperately needs right now, despite how it slices into his wounded pride.
“Look ...” Pierre seems to sense he’s veering into dangerous territory and softens his tone slightly. “I’m not trying to kick you while you’re down, I swear. But any chance of reconciling with Y/N will require so much more than a thoughtless grand gesture or gift.”
Slowly, Charles lifts his bleary gaze and locks eyes with his friend. Pierre holds the stare steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.
“It’ll take rebuilding the bedrock of your foundation — time, effort, and trust. Things you can’t buy or speed along, no matter how much you try.” A heavy pause settles between them before Pierre speaks again, more gently this time. “Maybe reconnecting with her is possible one day … or maybe not. But you owe it to her and yourself to give space for those open wounds to heal first.”
It’s not at all what Charles wants to hear right now. His instinct is still to barrel forward, to blaze a path of extravagant overtures until you melt back into his arms. But deep down, he knows Pierre is speaking the truth — he systematically torched something sacred and attempting to simply spackle over that devastation would be spitting in the face of your shared past.
Nodding slowly, Charles reaches up to swipe clumsily at the dampness on his cheeks. Pierre places a steadying hand on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
“Come on, idiot. Let’s get you home before you really embarrass yourself out here.”
Charles doesn’t protest as Pierre slips off his stool and hauls him upright, looping one arm securely around his waist for support. As they navigate the pulsing crowd, he steals one last glimpse over his shoulder at the bar now shrinking away in the distance.
Perhaps this part of his story with you might be over, the final embers snuffed out. But somehow, some way, Charles vows to rekindle that spark again — even if it takes immeasurable time and effort to nurture it back from the smoldering ashes of his own making.
One thing is certain, though — any path forward will require him to douse these wallowing flames of self-pity first.
The pounding bass fades into a dull throb as Pierre guides them out into the cool night air. Charles blinks rapidly, the city’s twinkling lights swimming dizzily before his bleary eyes as his friend bundles him into the backseat of a waiting car.
“Just let me sleep it off,” he slurs as the plush leather seats engulf him. “I’ll be good as new in the morning.”
Pierre huffs out a wry chuckle as he slides in beside Charles, rapping his knuckles on the privacy partition to signal the driver. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. Once you’re properly re-hydrated and that tequila has run its course.”
The motion of the town car pulling away from the curb has Charles’ head lolling back against the headrest. He cracks one eye open to peer at his friend through his disheveled curls.
“I really do love her, you know?” The confession emerges soft and subdued, loaded with naked yearning. “Like … the love of my entire whole damn life, probably. How fucking stupid is that?”
He’s not sure if the dampness blurring his vision is from a fresh wave of moisture or simply the alcohol still sloshing through his system. Either way, Pierre’s gaze softens imperceptibly as he reaches out to give Charles’ knee a reassuring squeeze.
“We’ve all been certifiably stupid in the name of love before, believe me. The key is learning from those mistakes before moving forward.” A beat passes before he adds, “And for the record — I know you did love Y/N with everything you had, even when you monumentally fucked things up.”
Charles lets his eyes slip shut once more with a slow nod. “Then you know why I can’t just … let her go completely. Why I need to find a way to get back to her, even if takes years of making things right first.”
The words hang heavy between them, a tangled thicket of resolution and remorse. Finally, Pierre exhales a soft sigh.
“I know. But that’s a bridge to cross another day, when you’re sober and can actually string two coherent thoughts together.” He gives Charles’ shoulder a light shove. “For now, focus on putting one foot in front of the other and staying hydrated, yeah?”
Despite himself, the corners of Charles’ lips quirk upwards at his friend’s gentle ribbing. He fumbles blindly for the window switch, lowering the glass to allow a blessed gust of fresh air to roll in and fill the cabin.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Just … don’t hold your breath on me moving on anytime soon.” His eyes flicker open once more to meet Pierre’s steady gaze. “I’m kind of stubborn that way when it comes to the things I want most.”
Pierre holds his stare for a long beat before giving a slow shake of his head, a wry smile tugging at his own lips. “Believe me, mate — I’m well aware.”
They lapse into companionable silence for the remainder of the drive, the city’s twinkling skyline gliding past in a blur. Despite the copious amounts of alcohol still sloshing through his veins, a flicker of hope rekindles in Charles’ chest.
You might have slipped from his grasp, but that doesn’t necessarily mean your paths can’t someday and somehow intersect once more.
All it will take is the courage to keep inching forward, one stumbling step at a time.
No matter how many times the darkness tries to swallow him whole.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as Charles kills the engine, the high-pitched cheers swelling to near-riotous levels.
He tips his head back against the headrest for a beat, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. P2 at the Singapore Grand Prix isn’t cause for disappointment — he drove one hell of a race and pushed his machinery to its limits.
But the unbridled pandemonium echoing all around paints a stark reminder that second-place means precious little tonight.
As he cracks open his helmet visor, the screams seem to multiply tenfold. Charles squints against the blinding flash of a thousand camera flashes as the feverish celebration kicks into high gear. Of course the crowd is whipped into such a frenzy — a certain Dutchman has done it again.
Max Verstappen just secured his fourth consecutive World Drivers’ Championship.
Charles watches almost numbly as a swarm of bodies in dark blue coverings rushes the track. The Red Bull mechanics, crew members, and team management spill out in an ever expanding tide, swarming towards parc fermé. All desperate for their piece of history, to bask in the glory of their latest accomplishment.
Bracing one hand against the sweltering engine cover, Charles hauls himself up and out of the cockpit with as much energy as he can muster. He plants his feet wide on the sizzling asphalt, scanning the chaos overtaking the pit lane in search of … there.
You cut an unmistakable figure in understated elegance among the churning sea of navy. Even from here, Charles can make out the burgundy sheath dress clinging to your curves, the soft tendrils of hair escaping your chignon. You’re a vision wreathed in smiles as you follow closely behind Mark, the two of you buffeted but undeterred as you fight against the tide of bodies.
For a split second, Charles allows himself the simple indulgence of drinking in your radiance. Seeing the way your cheeks bloom with color from the heat and exhilaration. How your delighted laughter seems to sparkle in the humid night air, mingling seamlessly with the roars of jubilation.
You’re so clearly drunk on the evening’s euphoria, caught up in the intoxicating thrill of witnessing sheer greatness on display. Even standing halfway across the track, Charles can sense the infectious joy rolling off you in waves.
He’s always loved seeing you like this — passionate and alive in a way that sets his heart pounding. Though he knows now, with a ferocious ache, that particular spark isn’t for him anymore.
As if to underscore the point, Mark suddenly grinds to a halt right in the middle of the sea of revelers. You plow into his back with a breathless giggle, clearly caught off guard. That’s when Charles notices the obvious struggle as you try to regain your footing, wobbling precariously atop a set of wicked-looking stilettos.
Even from this distance, he can read the brief look of concern that pinches Mark’s brow as he turns towards you. The chaos of the celebration fades into background noise as Charles watches helplessly as Mark reaches for your arm to help steady you.
You wave him off with a warm smile, clearly unbothered as you simply shrug out of the towering heels completely. Mark lunges to catch the discarded shoes before they can get swallowed up by the crowd.
There’s a brief pause as the two of you seem to communicate wordlessly. Then, in one smooth motion, Mark pivots and crouches down in front of you, gesturing towards his broad back. Your laughter rings out bright and delighted as you clamber on, effortlessly looping your arms around his neck as he straightens with a grunt.
Just like that, you’re ensconced within the protective circle of Mark’s arms, held securely in place on his back as he continues walking through the celebrating crowd. From his vantage point, Charles can just make out the matching beams you both have plastered on as you sway happily with each step.
It looks so … easy. Natural and uncomplicated in a way Charles’ entire existence seems incapable of obtaining these days. He drinks in the vision of you nuzzling sweetly against Mark’s neck, leaving a feather-light kiss of pure affection on the hinge of his jaw before snuggling back down. Two people completely in sync and unabashedly in love.
Despite the sweltering humidity, an icy chill washes over Charles from somewhere deep within. He’s all too aware of precisely what he’s witnessing right in front of him.
You’ve exchanged his partnership — one defined by betrayal and brokenness — for something far greater.
Charles huffs out a dry, mirthless breath as he sinks back against the sweat-dampened chassis of his idle car, feeling painfully adrift despite the pulsing rush of people all around him. He catches one final glimpse of you and Mark before the crowd finally sweeps you up — the picture of contentment nestled so trustingly against your beloved’s back. Watching on as your dazzling smile lights up the night with each joyful step you draw nearer to the championship celebration
He knows with soul-cleaving certainty in that moment that you’ve likely never felt as cherished or prized in your entire life as Mark must make you feel every single day.
Meanwhile, Charles is perpetually exiled here on the outskirts, unable to do anything but bear witness to the other man’s spoils. So close to his own desires yet barred from ever seizing them for his own.
Always the usurped, forever second fiddle, constantly relegated to P2 in work and life.
With a jaw so tightly clenched it threatens to crack his molars, Charles wrenches his gaze away at last. He feels the first angry prick of heated moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes and hates himself for the painfully vulnerable reaction.
This is his self-manufactured hell, after all. He has no one to blame but his own selfish impulses and cowardly weakness for tossing that bond with you into the incinerator. For annihilating the relationship you had built over years of steadfast partnership in one careless night.
So he’ll swallow down the bitterness and lingering heartache as penance for his sins. Compartmentalize the image of you balanced so peacefully in another man’s embrace, so patently adored and worshiped as you deserve.
He at least owes you that mercy — to bear the whole of his consequences in dignified silence as you bask in the victor’s glow you were always meant for.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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Not the same anymore
Summary: After ending his three-year-long relationship due to his friend’s influence, Lando tries everything to get his lover back.
Note: I’m back!!! The winner of the poll I set up was loud and clear! I hope all of you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! P.s buckle up this one is a long one!
Reader x Lando Norris
Genre: fluff/angst
I had been dating Lando for three years, and our relationship was everything I could have ever hoped for. We met at an event, our eyes locking from across the room. He was so handsome, his smile blinding, and I knew right then that I had to talk to him. Except I was too shy to approach him. At that moment it felt like the universe heard me and made Lando approach me. We talked all evening long and we hit it off instantly.
From that moment on, we were practically inseparable. We spent hours talking and getting to know each other, our bond growing stronger with every conversation. I still remembered vividly how he had made me laugh until my sides hurt, how he listened with genuine interest to every word I said.
I remembered the excitement and anticipation when he asked me out, the butterflies in my stomach when he first held my hand. It felt like a fairy-tale come true, and I knew from that moment on that he was the one for me. We shared so many moments of joy, of happiness, and even the occasional disagreement, but we always worked through them together.
At first, I tried not to worry, thinking it was just a phase, but the changes in him only became more pronounced. He was less responsive to my texts and calls, and he seemed to prioritize spending time with his friends over me. I felt lonely and confused, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift.
Lando invited me to his place, and I was excited. I thought he was doing just the same, planning to spend some quality time together.
However, as soon as we found ourselves alone, Lando's face was serious, and my heart started to pound. I knew something terrible was about to happen.
Lando sat down next to me, his gaze fixed on the floor. There was a long, heavy silence before he finally spoke.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice almost a whisper.My heart dropped. Those words... they were never good.
I sat there, feeling the dread settling in my stomach. I knew whatever was about to come couldn't be good. Lando took a deep breath, but his face remained serious.
"I think... we need to break up."
I felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Break up? The words hung heavy in the air, and my mind struggled to process them.
"W...what?" I managed to choke out, my voice shaking slightly. "Why, Lando?"
He avoided my gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "It's just... I need to focus on my career right now," he said, his voice robotic, like he was reciting lines. "Being in a relationship is a distraction, and I can't let it interfere with my goals."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was throwing away our three years together with such ease, as if it meant nothing. I tried to reason with him, to remind him of all the happy memories we had shared.
"We've been together for three years!" I said, my voice rising in volume. "Why is it suddenly a problem now?"
"I need to be 100% focused," Lando insisted, finally meeting my eyes. "It's not just about the amount of time, y/n. It's about the current moment, and right now, my career is my priority." He sounded almost cold, like he was pushing me away.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. How could I mean so little to him, that he would discard our relationship so easily?
"What about us, Lando? What about everything we've been through together?" I pleaded, my voice shaky.
He remained stoic, his expression unchanging. "I'm sorry, y/n," he said, his tone lacking emotion. "But my mind is made up."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It felt as though he was a stranger, a shell of the man I had fallen in love with. “You don’t mean any of it! You’re just stressed.”
Lando seemed to snap. "My friends were right," he said, his tone sharp. "This is for the best. Now, I don't need the distraction of a relationship, and I'm better off without you."
His words felt like a stab in the heart, and I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I wanted to defend myself, to challenge him, but his friends were the last thing I wanted to bring up.
But I couldn't help it. "Your friends?" I shot back. "They're the worst! All they care about is partying, drinking, and living off your money.”
Lando's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare talk about my friends like that," he snapped, his tone filled with resentment. "They're the ones who are always there to support me, unlike some people."
I couldn't hold back anymore, the emotions boiling over. "Unlike some people? Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice cracking. "Who was there for you when you were doubting yourself? Who stayed up late with you, listening to your worries, pushing you to keep going? Wasn't it me?"
He looked stung, but he shook his head, trying to uphold his cold facade. "That's not how things work," he said stiffly. "My career is my top priority, and I don't have time for anything else."
I felt my own anger rising to match his. "So, you're telling me three years of love, support, and understanding mean nothing to you? Just throw it all away for the sake of your career?"
Lando stood up, his face tense. "The decision is made. I don't need a distraction right now, and that's what you are. A distraction." His words felt like a slap in the face.
My heart shattered, each word breaking another piece of it. How could he turn our love into nothing more than a mere bother? How could he talk to me like this? But I couldn't let myself break down fully. Not here, not in front of him. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back tears and keep my composure.
"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "If I'm just a distraction, then go ahead. Focus on your oh-so-important career." I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his words had hurt me.
"And you know what, Lando?" I continued, my voice rising. "Your friends? They're all using you. They're not true friends; they're just there 'cause you're famous and rich."
Lando's face twisted in anger at my words. "How dare you talk about my friends like that?" he sneered, his tone spiteful. "They're the ones who have supported me through everything. They're true friends, unlike you. Maybe that's why I'm better off without you."
My eyes narrowed. He had crossed a line. How dare he? "At least I never used you. I loved you for you, not for your fame or your money," I shot back.
He laughed, a humorless, bitter laugh. "Love? Please. You only liked being with a famous guy. The attention it brought you, the luxury. Let's not pretend this wasn't also about status for you."
I felt my fist clenching so hard it hurt. "You know that's not true," I said through gritted teeth. "I never cared about your fame or money. I loved who you were, or at least who I thought you were."
"Oh, really?" Lando challenged, his tone sharp. "Then why didn't you ever say no to the fancy parties or designer clothes I bought you? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."
I felt like my chest was tightening with every one of his accusations. How could he twist things like that, making it seem like I only cared about his money? It was so far from the truth. The minute those words left his mouth I knew it was his friends feeding him these lies about me.
"Those were gifts, Lando," I said, my voice cracking. "I loved them because they came from you, not because they were expensive!"
I didn’t let him speak as I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking with emotion. "Fine. Just don't contact me ever again," I said, my voice cold and void of emotion. "This is over. You’re not the same anymore.”
I walked out of his place, my steps heavy and numb. I didn't look back, afraid of seeing him or breaking down in tears. I just wanted to leave, to get away from his words that echoed in my head, and the painful ache in my heart.
As I stepped outside, the fresh air felt like both a relief and a cold slap in the face. I hailed a taxi, and as I watched the familiar streets pass by, I felt as though my old, happy life had shattered into pieces. I had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away for his stupid career. I would never make that mistake again, I promised myself.
Lando sat in his place alone after she left, the silence of his now-empty home weighing heavily on him. He started thinking about the breakup, feeling a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside, remembering that he had chosen his career over her. It was for the best, he told himself, repeating what his friends had been telling him.
As the hours passed, the guilt started to fade, numbed by the pain and the alcohol he poured himself. He eventually called his friends, and they eagerly agreed to come over, happy to hear he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend.
They arrived, with smiles on their faces, their eyes glinting with anticipation. "Finally, you get to live a little without that distraction!" one of them said, slapping Lando's back. "We're gonna party hard tonight, man! You deserve it."
Lando felt himself slipping into a numbing haze, the alcohol dulling his emotions and his conscience. He allowed himself to be guided by his friends, their words like sweet poison, promising him that he was better off without me, that he wouldn't miss her. They started planning their night out at a flashy new club, their enthusiasm infectious in Lando's alcohol-doused state.
Lando found himself nodding along, his resistance fading away with each drink. The idea of partying seemed like a good escape, a way to drown out the guilt and the loneliness. He convinced himself that tonight, he would let loose and forget, throwing himself into the nightlife and the company of his so-called friends.
As the night progressed, Lando found himself increasingly affected by the alcohol he had consumed. The world started blurring at the edges, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess. He grabbed his phone, his fingers clumsy as he fumbled with the buttons. After several clumsy taps and misdialed numbers, he finally managed to dial Max's number.
As the call went through, he heard Max Fewtrell answer from the other end. "Lando? What the hell, it's 3 am, are you drunk?"
Lando let out a chuckle, his voice slurred. "Heyyy, Maxxy," he said, his words tripping over themselves. "You sound so grumpy. Come ooon, I need to talk to youeee."
Max sighed, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake the sleep from his voice. "Lando, this better be important. I was trying to sleep, you know." His tone was annoyed, but the concern was evident under the surface.
Lando ignored Max’s tone, his mind swimming with alcohol-induced impulsiveness. "I need to talk, buddy," he said, his words stumbling over each other. "It's about y/n."
Max sat up in his bed, his annoyance fading in the face of Lando's evident distress. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more awake and alert. "Okay, Lando, I'm listening," he said, his voice steady.
Lando took a deep breath, his words slurred. "Max, I messed up, I really messed up," he slurred, his voice cracking. "I broke up with y/n, and man, I feel like crap. I miss her, Max. I miss her, and it... it hurts, Max, it hurts so much." The line of words came out in a jumble, the weight of his emotions too heavy to hide under his inebriated state.
Max let out a sigh, his concern growing with Lando's admission. "Okay, Lando, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are, and for god's sake, don't go anywhere else. Tell me the name of the club, and I'll come get you."
Lando mumbled the name of the club through the phone, his words a bit muffled. "It's... uh, it's called 'The Neon Lights.' It's that new club in town, very fancy. Can't miss the neon lights," he hiccuped.
Max sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, Lando. I'm on my way. Just don't do anything stupid. Just stay put and wait for me." Max quickly got dressed, leaving his bed behind for the task ahead.
Max drove as fast as he could, and reached the club soon. He spotted Lando right away. His best friend was sitting outside, next to a homeless man, laughing loudly in his inebriated state.
Max couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Lando's current predicament. He approached them, giving the homeless man a nod in greeting. "Alright, Lando, let's go," Max said, reaching out to grab Lando by the arm to help him onto his feet.
Lando tried to protest, but his words came out as a muddled mess. "No, wait! I was just having a talk with him!" he argued, hiccuping. He tried to pull away from Max, but his balance was too shaky. "He's a cool guy, Max. Look!" Lando gestured at the homeless man, his movements exaggerated.
Max shook his head, trying to keep his composure. "Lando, stop making a fool of yourself. Let's go, you're coming with me." He gently led Lando away, making sure he didn’t stumble and fall.
By now, a few people from the club were giving them odd looks, amused by the sight of an apparently famous driver being a mess outside. Max just focused on guiding Lando away, thankful no one had recognized him. "Come on, buddy," he said softly, his arms holding him steady.
Lando put up minimal resistance, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He tried to protest but his words only slurred together, making it impossible to understand. His legs felt like jelly, and he let Max guide him to his car, his head spinning from the alcohol.
Once they reached the car, Max opened the passenger door for Lando, gently guiding him into the seat. Lando slumped in with a groan, his eyes flickering. Max secured Lando's seat belt, making sure he was as safe as he could be in his current state.
As they arrived at Lando's apartment, Max helped Lando out of the car, his feet dragging sluggishly. Walking him to his bed was a challenge, as Lando leaned heavily on Max. With effort, they finally made it to the bedroom, where Lando practically flopped onto his bed, groaning as his head spun.
Max was concerned about Lando, still inebriated and vulnerable. He grabbed some medication and water, placing them on the bedside table for when Lando woke up. He covered Lando with a thin blanket, making sure he wouldn't be cold in the night. He left quietly, making a mental note to check on him in the morning, closing the door softly behind him.
Max returned to Lando's place the next morning, his concern for him still lingering. He used the spare key Lando had given him and let himself inside the apartment. There was a noticeable silence, the aftermath of Lando's excessive drinking still hung heavily in the air.
Max was in the kitchen by the time Lando trudged down, looking half dead from the night before. His hair was tousled, his eyes bloodshot, and his face pale. He groaned as he spotted Max standing by the counter, a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast ready.
Max watched as Lando slumped into a chair, cradling his head in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking, Lando? You were drunk off your ass," Max scolded gently, his voice laced with worry.
Lando winced as he lifted his head, his eyes squint to slits. "I... I don't know. Needed a distraction," he groaned, his voice hoarse. The alcohol had taken its toll, and he felt like death warmed over.
Max sighed, pushing the cup of coffee towards Lando. "There are better ways to distract yourself than getting drunk, Lando. What if the media had found out? You could have jeopardized your entire career."
Max paused, his gaze fixed on Lando’s disheveled state. "So who were you with last night? Who was irresponsible enough to let you drink in such a state, and then leave you alone in that condition?"
Lando rubbed his temples, trying to remember through his foggy memory. "Some friends," he mumbled, avoiding Max's accusing stare.
"You know, just some guys I hang out with sometimes. They were partying, and I... I don't know, I joined in." He paused, trying to compose himself. "Then I got drunk and they... they left."
Max’s eyes narrowed, seeing right through it. "Those friends, right? Are those the ones who always use you, Lando? The ones who take advantage of your fame?" His voice was sharp and filled with frustration, knowing exactly how those 'friends' manipulated Lando.
Max’s tone was hard as he continued, his questions probing deeper. "Did they invite you or did they just drag you along with them? Because I know how they are, Lando. They always take advantage of you. They use you for your money, your fame, and never really care about you."
Lando hesitated, his eyes downcast. He knew Max had a point. "I... they invited me," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "But I went because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget her." His voice trembled slightly, the pain he felt creeping into his voice.
Max's ears perked up at the mention of y/n. "Is that why you broke up with y/n, then?" Max's tone softened slightly, realizing this was a sore subject.
"Because you wanted to forget her? To distract yourself from the pain?" He saw Lando wince at the mention of her name, and it confirmed his suspicions.
Lando swallowed hard, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes. "I... yes," he whispered. "I thought if I ended things, it would make it easier, but it's only made it worse." His voice shook with regret, the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders.
Max probed further, sensing there was more to this. "Were the friends the ones who influenced you to break up with y/n, Lando?" He had a feeling they were involved, knowing their toxic nature.
Lando shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Max's gaze. "They... they encouraged it, yeah," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed.
"They kept saying she was holding me back, that a relationship would only hinder my career, and I... I let them get into my head."
Max was furious. He had seen how much y/n loved Lando, how much she supported him at every turn, and now he had thrown it all away because of some 'friends' who didn't care about him. "They're the worst, Lando!" His voice rose. "They don't care about you, not like she does. She's been there for you, through everything. And you let them poison you against her?"
Lando closed his eyes, the reality of Max's words piercing through his foggy mind. Max was right. He had let himself be manipulated by his so-called friends, allowing them to turn him against the one person who genuinely cared about him.
"I know," he whispered, his voice choked. "I messed up. I'm an idiot."
Max sighed, his frustration mingling with a sense of compassion.
"You're not an idiot, Lando. But you made a terrible mistake. You let yourself be led astray by the wrong people. Those friends, they're poison. And y/n... she's the one who truly cares for you. You need to fight for her, Lando. Don't let them ruin what you and y/n had."
Lando admitted, his voice filled with regret and defeat. "It's too late, Max. She has blocked me everywhere. She doesn't want anything to do with me." His shoulders slumped, the weight of his mistake heavy on him. "She probably hates me now, and I don't blame her. I hurt her, Max. I don't think she'll ever take me back."
Max, determined to help Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands. He texted y/n, hoping to plead on Lando's behalf, but Max was met with a cold wall - she had blocked him too. Frustration welled up inside, knowing how much of a hole Lando had dug for himself.
"Lando," he said, his tone heavy, "She blocked me too. This is going to be harder than I thought."
Lando flinched as Max confirmed y/n had blocked him too. It felt like the finality of his mistake, like the door to reconciliation was slammed shut, and he had no way to open it.
"I can't blame her," Lando muttered, his eyes downcast. "I messed up so badly. She's got every right to hate me now."
Lando's phone suddenly buzzed with a text from one of his 'friends,' inviting him out again. But before Lando could even react, Max swiped the phone from his hand, angrily blocking them all.
Lando stared at Max, a mix of shock and annoyance on his face. "Dude, what the hell!" he exclaimed, trying to get his phone back.
Max's expression was serious, his tone firm. "Those friends of yours are poison," he stated, holding the phone just out of Lando's reach. "They're the ones who encouraged you to break up with y/n. They're not your real friends, and I'm not letting them influence you further."
Lando tried to reach for his phone again, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Max, please give me my phone. You can't just block them all! Those are my friends!" He sounded desperate, trying to justify something he knew deep down was wrong.
Max stood his ground, shaking his head. "No, Lando. Those friends are the reason we're in this mess right now. They don't have your best interests at heart. They only care about what they can gain from you. You need to see that!" His grip on the phone remained firm, not giving Lando any chance to retrieve it.
Lando, still hungover and angry, tried to make his case. "But... but they're the only ones who are there for me, Max!" Lando argued, desperation lacing his voice. "They're the ones who party with me when I feel down. They're the ones who go out to clubs while y/n stays home. They're just trying to look out for me."
Max's patience wore thin, his anger boiling over. He threw the phone at Lando with a snap, the device landing on the bed next to him. "Fine!" Max sneered, his voice cold. "Figure it out on your own, Lando. Seems you'd rather listen to those so-called friends than hear the truth. See how far they take you."
Lando flinched as Max threw the phone at him, feeling a mix of guilt and stubbornness bubbling inside. Max's words rang true, a painful reminder of the fact that he was defending his toxic friends over the one person who cared. But in his hungover state, he was stubborn, unwilling to admit his friends were the ones pulling him into a toxic pit.
"Fine!" Lando retorted, his voice rising. "I don't need you trying to control my life! And I don't need y/n. I can do whatever I want with my friends!" He grabbed his phone, clutching it tightly, his anger and resentment towards Max growing.
Max stormed out, leaving Lando alone in that moment, his thoughts swirling like a storm. Lando sat in silence, surrounded by the chaos he had created, and the weight of his choices. Max's absence left him with nothing but his own thoughts and the quiet, empty apartment, the reality of his situation setting in.
Days blurred together as I drowned myself in work, my fingers flying over the keyboard, creating numbers and reports that seemed like a lifeline in this sea of heartache. The silence of my apartment was too loud, so I stayed at the office, working until exhaustion took hold.
My best friend grew worried, her concern palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to open up. Who would even want to listen to my sob story, anyway?
I couldn't even bring myself to think about our breakup, the pain still too fresh. Work was my solace, a way to stay one step ahead of the thoughts that threatened to consume me. I tried to focus on the numbers, the deadlines – anything to avoid confronting the reality of my shattered heart.
But as much as I worked, the pain lingered, refusing to fade away. Every now and then, I'd find myself staring off into space, the memories of our time together flooding back. The sound of Lando's laughter, his warm touch, it all came crashing back in waves that threatened to crush me.
Lost in my own world, the sound of my best friend's voice finally broke through the fog of my thoughts. She had been calling my name for the past five minutes, but I hadn't heard a word, too consumed by my own internal battle. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the daze.
She stood by my cubicle, her expression a mix of worry and concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now."
I blinked again, trying to shake off the haze and focus on her words. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just really focused on this project." I tried to sound convincing, but I couldn't meet her gaze.
My best friend gently urged, "Y/N, I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to open up. How about a girls' night out tonight? A chance to take your mind off things? You need a break."
Each word felt like a lifeline. She knew just what I needed, an opportunity to lose myself for a moment without the weight of the breakup suffocating me.
The distraction of a girls' night out sounded tempting. I'd have a chance to let go, to pretend things were fine for a while. "Okay," I softly agreed, a small hint of warmth amidst the pain. "A girls' night sounds great. Let's do it."
As the hours passed, I tried to focus on the preparations, changing into something comfortable after my long day of work. But as I stood in front of the mirror, my mind kept wandering, the memories of Lando and the happier times we shared together. I took a deep breath, locking those thoughts away at the back of my mind, and plastered on a smile.
We met at a nearby bar, the noise and laughter a stark contrast to the silence of my apartment.
My best friend tried to engage me in conversation, steering clear of any topics about relationships or exes. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and I found myself sipping on my favorite cocktail, letting the alcohol blunt the edges of my pain for just a moment.
As the night progressed, my best friend knew something was still weighing heavily on me. She steered the conversation deeper, her eyes meeting mine in understanding. "Y/N, really, what's going on? I can see something's eating at you."
I sighed, taking another sip. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and the pain I'd locked away started to slip out.
I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. The alcohol had loosened my tongue, and with each sip, the words poured out. "Me and Lando broke up," I said, my voice wavering. The pain I'd tried to hide finally came out in the open.
My best friend listened without interruption as I told her everything - the pain, the doubts, the sense of loss. She held my hand, her thumb running across the back of my hand in a comforting gesture, allowing me to release all the emotions I had been holding in.
The pain intensified as I allowed myself to acknowledge it again. "I still miss him," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, "but I can't go back to him. Not after everything he put me through."
My best friend stayed silent, letting me take the lead, listening without judgment, offering reassurance with her hand, holding mine firmly.
Her words were gentle, yet comforting. "You're strong, Y/N," she said, squeezing my hands. "It hurts, and it's hard, but you'll get through this. I'm here for you every step of the way."
Her words provided solace, reminding me of my own strength, even when I felt like I was crumbling.
She was right; I had gotten through tough times before. This, too, would pass. I tried to hold onto those words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of hurt. I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
After hours we decided to call it a night. As my best friend dropped me off at my apartment, the night's diversion ended, and the silence of my apartment fell heavily around me.
The momentary respite from the pain had come to an end, and the reality of being alone set in again. I tried to ignore the loneliness, the emptiness without Lando. Instead, I got ready for bed, trying to find solace in routine.
I reached for my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the memories that kept invading my thoughts. But as I opened it, I was met with a barrage of social media updates about Lando and me - our pictures together, speculation, and the truth I had been trying to escape. The pain hit me all over again as I saw others asking about our breakup, theories swirling around me.
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f1gossippoffical Trouble in Paradise? Fans have suspected that Formula One driver Lando Norris has broken up with his girlfriend Y/N. The pair have unfollowed each other on all platforms and haven't been seen together in months. This suspicion was confirmed after fans saw Lando getting drunk at a club without his partner, living his life. What do you think happened? Follow for more updates!
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loveformywags2 What? Is this confirmed? This can't be right?! 🥲
lalalandlando4 He deserved better anyways 🤷♀️
f1maniaclvr Do y/n and Lando know about this? 🤦♀️
pookielanscar481 It's just odd that he was seen being drunk out of his mind without her
mam4you81 That's what I was thinking... What if she broke up with him and he's drowning himself in alcohol?
nanalalaf14 Honestly I don't think so, I think he dumped her since he had stopped interacting with her on his socials while she still liked and commented on all his posts.
4everf1loca NOOOOO my sheilaaaaa 😭
As I scrolled through the comments, reading the theories about us, a bitter realization hit me. They were only seeing the surface, the façade we had carefully crafted for the public. If only they knew what had really happened, the pain, the reasons behind our breakup.
The comments were full of speculation and curiosity. People thought they knew our love story, but they knew nothing. They didn't see the fights, the lies, the coldness between us. Their theories felt like a slap in the face, mocking the reality of our relationship.
All I knew at this moment was that I should take the time to heal and not let anyone ruin this for me.
Months had passed since the breakup, and I had finally made significant progress in my healing journey. Though the memory of Lando and our heartbreak still lingered, I had come a long way. I had focused on myself, investing time in hobbies, spending quality time with my friends, and allowing myself to heal.
I had established boundaries, avoiding social media and news about Lando that would reopen the wounds. I started a new project at work, pouring my energy into something productive. Slowly, I felt like I was rebuilding myself.
Right now, I was sat with my best friend, enjoying lunch together. My phone buzzed with a notification from an old group chat I had almost forgotten about. It was the group chat I used to be part of, with Kika and Alex.
When I opened it, I was greeted with a flood of messages, the group hasn't been active ever since my break up. So I was curious to see what this was all about.
My best friend, curious, noticed the notification that I had checked my phone. She gave me a questioning look, asking, "What was that about?"
"It's an old group chat from two of my WAG friends," I explained. "They want to catch up during the next GP."
My best friend raised her eyebrow, visibly curious. "And are you going to go?" she asked, her voice gentle but eager to know.
"At first, I didn't really want to go because of... well, Lando being there," I admitted, a mixture of hesitation and bravery in my voice. "But then I thought why should I let him dictate what I do? I shouldn't be scared of him, right?"
I paused, my determination showing through. "So, yes, I agreed to go."
My best friend's face lit up with happiness as she heard my decision. "I'm so proud of you!" she said, her pride shining through. "You're not letting him hold you back or influence you anymore. That's such a huge step forward, and you should be proud of yourself."
For a moment, seeing my best friend's proud expression filled me with a surge of bravery. She was right; I wasn't letting Lando affect my decisions anymore. I was taking control of my life again, one choice at a time.
As I laughed with my best friend, the weight of Lando gradually faded into the background. We continued talking, laughing, and enjoying our lunch together. Lando's name didn't come up in conversation. For now, he was just a distant thought, overshadowed by the joys of friendship and healing.
Lando stood in the McLaren garage during the Silverstone GP, his entourage of fake friends surrounding him in his papaya-colored driver overalls. They joked, laughed, and offered their hollow support, all while he got ready for the race.
Amidst the laughter, Lando's thoughts turned to y/n. He missed her, the void she had left in his life was still present, gnawing at him. He had tried to reach out, creating new accounts, but he found himself blocked at every turn, silence his only reply. It was as if the universe itself was holding back any chance of them reconnecting, driving home his deepest fears and regrets.
Lando snapped out of his pensive state, focusing his mind back on the race ahead. He had a job to do, after all. With a firm tone, he told his friends to stay put, to relax and enjoy the race while he got ready. His determination was evident, a momentary distraction from his heart's constant ache.
Lando quickly realised that he had forgotten his phone. As he retraced his steps to retrieve his phone, he heard muffled voices from within his driver's room. Curious, he stopped before he entered, straining to hear the conversation inside.
Michael chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Can you believe Lando was so stupid to break up with her?" Sam agreed wholeheartedly, a sneer on his face. "She was perfect for him, a distraction holding him back from his true potential."
Jake snorted. "Yeah, she was a total inconvenience, always nagging and taking up his time and money. Good riddance, I say."
They shared a cruel laugh, satisfied with their opinions. The conversation between Lando's fake friends revealed their true intentions - to have Lando's undivided attention, away from someone who truly cared about him.
They continued their conversation, mocking y/n's influence on Lando. Michael spoke with a mischievous grin. "It was a piece of cake convincing him. He ate up everything we said like a fool."
John snorted in agreement. "Yeah, we made sure he saw her as a hindrance. Now we have him all to ourselves, no competition."
James interjected, a cruel glint in his eyes. "We convinced him she was holding him back, that he needed to focus on his racing. We even convinced him she was just after his money. Classic play."
They chuckled, pleased with the web of lies they had spun. Michael added, "He doesn't even know what's good for him. We'll keep him under our control, keeping his attention and his wealth all to ourselves. He's too naive to see through us."
Sam, the schemer, couldn't contain his glee. "This has been the easiest con ever. Lando's so trusting, so foolish. We just have to keep filling his head with our lies, and he'll do whatever we want."
Lando, his heart heavy with the revelations, stormed back into the room, anger seeping through his every feature. His fists clenched, his eyes darkened in fury. He couldn't believe how easily he had been manipulated, how blind he had been to the deceit around him.
"How could I be so stupid?" he bellowed, staring down the group.
The group of fake friends froze, their faces stunned. They stared at Lando, wide-eyed, their laughter abruptly silenced. They hadn't expected Lando to return so soon, or to have overheard their malicious conversation.
Lando's voice trembled with a mix of fury and pain. "I can't believe I let you manipulate me like this!" His eyes burned with a potent blend of anger and regret. He stepped closer, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "You were behind all of this, convincing me to break up with her, making me think she was holding me back."
The friends, caught off guard, tried to scramble for excuses. But Lando's words cut through their attempts to justify themselves. Michael spoke up, his voice trembling, "We... we were just looking out for you, Lando. We thought she was holding you back. We wanted what's best for your career, that's all."
Sam chimed in, trying to appease Lando. "We were trying to help you, Lando. We saw how she was distracting you, taking up your time and money. You need to focus on your racing. You're our golden goose!" He forced a fake chuckle, hoping Lando would buy into the manipulation again.
Lando clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "You didn't care about what's best for me. All you cared about was having me all to yourselves, using me for my fame and money. You manipulated me, turning me against the one person who loved me truly."
Jake tried to interject, his voice oozing with false concern. "Lando, we did care about you. We just wanted to protect you from a bad influence. We didn't want you to be taken advantage of." He attempted a manipulative smile, trying to deflect the blame onto me.
Lando's voice rose in intensity, his anger boiling over. "Don't you Dare talk about her like that! She was the only one who genuinely cared about me, not you. You're just jealous because she didn't let you use me like you do. You're nothing but a bunch of leeches!"
Michael, emboldened by Lando's anger, smirked, his words sharp. "Don't you dare blame us. This is on you, Lando. You were the one who was too stupid to see through our facade. Now you've lost her because of your own damn foolishness, not our fault in the slightest."
Lando, seething with a mix of hurt and anger, quickly called the security guards. With a firm voice, he instructed, "Get these snakes out of here now!"
The security guards, recognizing the tone of a man pushed to his limit, swiftly entered, escorting the fake friends out of the garage. Lando stood there, watching them leave, a bitter taste in his mouth.
As the fake friends were forcefully escorted out, Lando was left alone in the garage, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. The pain, the regret, the anger—it all slammed into him, finally giving way to the torrent he had held back for so long.
He slumped against a wall, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. Tears prickled in his eyes, his breath coming in ragged breaths.
As Lando sat there, the regret gnawed at him, growing sharper by the second. He thought about y/n, the love he had lost. The memories of their time together flooded his mind, and he berated himself for throwing it away. He blamed himself for listening to the friends who had manipulated him.
He thought about the love they shared, how he had let it slip through his fingers, shattered by his own foolishness and vulnerability to their lies.
Lando, still in a vulnerable state, decided to reach out to Max, despite their rocky past. He thought about the clubs and the disagreements they had had, but he had no one else to turn to now. With a mix of regret and desperation, he dialed Max's number.
Max picked up the phone, immediately sensing the desperation in Lando's voice. As Lando poured out his emotions and apologies, Max listened, his tone softening.
Lando confessed, his voice cracking, "I should have listened to you, Max. You were right about them, all along. I was a fool to listen to their lies and ignore you."
Max, surprised but relieved, replied, "I'm glad you realize now, Lando. Those friends were toxic. They used you, and I tried to protect you, but I understood, now." Max's words were sympathetic, understanding Lando's turmoil, even though they had their differences.
Lando confessed, his voice trembling with a mix of regret and desperation. "Max, I miss her, I miss y/n so much. I'll do anything to get her back, anything at all. It's the biggest mistake I've ever made."
Max fell silent, his concern deepening. He didn't know the extent of Lando's mistreatment of her.
The mention of y/n stirred worry in Max. He gently asked, "Lando, you know I didn't want you to break up with her. But why do you think you mistreated her? Can you tell me about that?" Max's tone was cautious, sensing that there was more to the story than he knew.
Lando hesitated, knowing he had a lot to unpack. Max's curiosity fueled a mix of fear and guilt inside Lando. He knew he had to come clean, even though it was painful to admit.
Taking a deep breath, Lando began to confess, his voice shaky. "I... I treated her badly, Max. I hurt her, ignored her, and took her for granted."
Max couldn't help but wince, knowing there was a deeper issue.
Lando's voice cracked with remorse. "They fed me lies about her. They convinced me that she was holding me back, that she wasn't good enough. I believed them, and I treated her poorly."
Max, as supportive as possible, tried to provide words of encouragement. "Lando, that's rough. You've made mistakes, but the first step is admitting it. You know you messed up; now it's about making amends."
He sighed, "Lando, remember that true love isn't about perfection. It's about growing together, learning from mistakes, and valuing someone despite their flaws."
He paused, his voice serious. "But you've got to show her you mean it. Words are easy, but actions will be your proof. Are you ready to do that?"
Lando, though shaken and determined, nodded, his voice firm. "Yes, Max. I'm ready. I want to prove it to her. I'll show her I've changed and that I'm serious about making amends."
Max and Lando continued talking, their conversation growing shorter as Lando had to prepare for the race. As they bid each other goodbye, Max reminded Lando, "Stay focused during the race. Clear your mind; that's important, too."
Lando, though his mind was heavy with emotion, took Max's words to heart. He knew he had to compartmentalize his feelings for now and focus on the race ahead. He focused on the tracks, his car, and his performance, pushing aside his turbulent emotions for the moment.
I stepped into the grand prix feeling a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The grandstands, the roaring fans, and the smell of rubber and fuel in the air brought back a whirl of emotions. Seeing the tracks where Lando and I used to share moments filled me with nostalgia and a pang of heartache.
My thought were interrupted by two voices. Kika and Alex, my two closest friends, ambushed me with warm hugs, pulling me into their embrace. Their cheerful voices cut through the noise of the Grand Prix, and I felt a mix of relief and joy. It had been a while since we had been together.
"Y/N! You made it!" Kika exclaimed. "We've missed you so much!"
Alex chimed in, grinning widely. "We've been dying to hang out with you! It's been ages." She playfully pinched my cheek. "You look great, by the way."
"Oh, stop it! I didn't do anything special. You two, on the other hand, are the real stars here. Look at you!" I playfully nudged them both, my tone teasing and lighthearted.
Kika and Alex beamed, clearly enjoying the compliment. "Alright, alright, enough with the flattery," Alex said, feigning exhaustion. "We're here to have a blast. You ready for this?"
I sighed one more time while looking around before replying. "More then ready."
We made our way to our favorite hangout spot at hospitality. It was cozy, far from the chaos of the track. As we settled in, surrounded by comfortable couches and tables, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over us.
"I've missed this place," Kika said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "So many memories, right?"
We spent hours catching up, sharing stories, laughter, and heartfelt moments. The conversation flowed easily between us, like old times. Laughter echoed in the cozy space of the hospitality center, and our spirits were lifted. Time seemed to slip away as we bonded and supported one another. Eventually, the time came for Kika and Alex to head back out; their respective significant others were getting ready for their races.
Kika and Alex rose from their seats, their faces slightly apologetic. "We have to go," Kika sighed.
Alex nodded, adding, "Come find us later, okay?"
I gave them both a nod, understanding their commitment to support their boyfriends. "Of course, we'll catch up after the races. Good luck to them!"
Kika and Alex shared one last embrace, their hugs warm and reassuring, then they left to get to their respective spots by the trackside.
As they left, I was left to navigate the grandstands, finding my spot amidst the sea of fans. I blended into the crowd, the anticipation in the air as the racers prepared for their engines to start.
The race concluded, but it felt bittersweet. Lando's face was everywhere - on the screens, the winners' podium, the trackside banners. Seeing him in his natural element, celebrating victories, stirred mixed emotions in me. The pain of missing him and the hope of reconciliation blended together in a complicated mix.
After a bit, I decided that I needed to use the restroom so I headed that way. I made my way to the private VIP restrooms, my VIP pass granting me access. The restroom was clean and spacious, offering a respite from the noise outside. I checked my reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to compose myself.
As I exited the restroom, I was lost in my thoughts, only to bump into someone in the hall. I froze, instantly recognizing Lando's familiar voice. His figure stood in front of me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. His gaze met mine, and time seemed to stand still.
Lando called out for me, his voice filled with surprise, "y/n." His eyes held a mix of shock and tenderness, his voice holding a hint of the emotions he was trying to keep at bay.
As the words hung in the air between us, my heart raced. His presence was so close, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
I got out of my stance, trying to leave, I tried to walk past him, but Lando blocked my path, stopping me in my tracks. I felt a wave of emotions crash over me - pain, anger, hope, and a deep longing all mingled together. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and I tried to suppress it.
Lando's voice was hesitant and filled with vulnerability. "Y/N, please…can we talk? Just for a moment."
His request was sincere, his eyes pleading with me not to walk away.
I shook my head, my resolve firm. "No, Lando. I can't and I don't want to." I replied, my voice resolute. The pain from our breakup was still too fresh, and talking to him now would reopen wounds I wasn't ready to confront. I tried to move past him, my expression set with determination.
Lando's face fell, a mix of hurt and resignation evident. He saw my determination, my refusal to engage. He took a step closer, his words soft but desperate, "Please... just hear me out."
My frustrations boiled over. "Don't you think it's ironic? Now you want me to hear you out, when you never listened to me when you decided to end things," I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.
Lando winced at my words, the truth of them hitting him hard. "I know... I made a mistake," he said, his voice tinged with regret. He was trying to find the right words, his eyes pleading with me to give him a chance.
Lando's expression twisted, the guilt evident on his face as he processed my response. The words cut deep, the truth behind them undeniable.
"A mistake?" I repeated, my voice dripping with bitterness. "You ruined me."
I continued, my words raw.
"I spent months wondering what was wrong with me, why you ended a relationship of three years for a fake friendship that didn't even last a year. Where are those 'friends' who supposedly supported you through everything? I don't see them here, Lando."
Lando looked down, ashamed. He had no answer. His fake friends were nowhere to be found, leaving him alone to confront the consequences of his actions. The weight of his mistake seemed to grow heavier.
He finally managed to gather his thoughts, his voice a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I messed up. I don't expect you to forgive me right now. But please, let me explain." He took a step closer, his regret etched on his face, silently begging for my understanding.
I raised an eyebrow, my words sharp. "Explain? What's left to explain? You threw away three years of us for a group of shallow friendships. What could you possibly say to make this better?"
Lando knew my words hurt, but he was desperate. "I was blind. I was a damn coward," he confessed. "I allowed myself to be manipulated by my so- called friends, and in the process, I hurt you."
He continued, his voice tinged with regret and shame, "I saw them as my real friends, but now I realize they only saw me as a way to elevate their social status." He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They saw you as a threat, someone who could expose their true intentions. They convinced me you were holding me back, when in reality, they had me blinded."
His voice trembled as he continued, "I let myself believe their lies. They filled my head with jealousy, making me doubt our relationship, and I was stupid enough to listen to them." His vulnerability shone through, his emotions raw.
I nodded, my expression guarded. "I'm glad you've recognized your mistakes, Lando. But can you imagine the pain I've experienced because of them, because of you?"
My words conveyed a mix of grief and resentment. The hurt I suffered remained a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused.
Lando nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't take back what he had done. The time he spent believing those fake friends and ending our relationship had shattered something that couldn't easily be repaired. He understood the depth of my suffering, a consequence of his blind trust and foolishness.
Lando looked at me, his expression sincere, and asked if we could try again. He voiced his regret, hoping for a chance to make things right. The hope in his eyes was clear, but the weight of the past lingered between us. He wanted to rebuild, to fix what he had broken.
He pleaded with me, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I want us to try again. I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't let those fake friends influence me anymore. I'll do whatever it takes."
I shook my head, my voice resolute. "No, Lando. I'm still healing, and right now, I don't want to try again. I need time, space. I can't just forgive and forget in a snap."
My words were firm, expressing my current inability to jump back into a relationship after everything I had been through.
Lando, his voice filled with sincerity, looked into my eyes. His gaze conveyed the depth of his regret and determination. "I understand," he said. "I will wait for you, for ten years or more," he promised. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."
As we concluded the conversation, Lando stood there, his heart heavy with the weight of our future hanging in the balance. He watched me leave, a mix of emotions coursing through him: regret, hope, and an ache of longing. He had to accept that he couldn't rush our healing process, no matter how much he desired to be by my side.
I walked away, my eyes misty, the past and the uncertainty of our future intertwining in my thoughts.
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f1gossippoffical Months after their break-up, Lando Norris and Y/N have been spotted after the Silverstone GP. Sources state that the ex-couple were arguing, what the argument was about is still a big question. Many suspected it was because of a third party being involved. Thoughts about this one?
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lazyformulaland Bro leave them alone, they're both adults. Let them solve this in peace ffs. 🙄
lvr4lan Noooo Lando honey this isn't you run!
wagslov4 Did he pick you yet ? 🙄
bbpiastri81 What the hell is going on
norriswithrizz4 This is insane, the main focus of formula one isn't even on formula one anymore smh 🤦♀️
4everyours4ln Y'all are too invested, leave my girl y/n alone.
momolew16 Forreal the girl didn't ask for this
closetofpeacefashion7 Exactly she was finally thriving and then this happend. It doesn't even look like she wanted to talk to him
mayyoushush8 Did she tell you that 🤨
closetofpeacefashion7 @mayyoushush8 Don't be stupid even a kid can see that 🥱
I decided to head back home, not forgetting to shoot Alex and Kika a quick message which they completely understood.
As I reached home, the weight of the evening's emotions crashed down on me. The conversation with Lando had stirred up all the hurt and confusion I had been suppressing. I felt emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, unsure of what to make of it all.
The silence of my home only amplified my inner turmoil, leaving me to wrestle with my conflicted feelings.
A few days passed after the incident, I decided to move on with life and not let it bother me again. A perfect distraction? Drowning myself in my workload.
I arrived at work as I stepped inside the building, I was greeted by Linda, one of my co-workers.
Linda, approached me with a mischievous grin, her question catching me off guard. "Do you have a secret admirer, by any chance?" she asked, the curiosity palpable in her voice.
I stared at her, confused by her question, wondering why she would draw such a conclusion. I shook my head, puzzled by the idea. "What makes you think that?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.
Linda chuckled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of intrigue. She replied, "Have a look in your office."
Puzzled by her cryptic hint, I made my way to the elevator and reached my office. As I stepped inside, confusion lingered in my mind, wondering what I was about to find.
My eyes widened with shock and surprise as I entered the office, finding a massive bouquet of my favorite flowers. The delicate blooms filled the space with a sweet, comforting fragrance. Attached to the flowers was a note, mysterious and intriguing. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I reached for the note.
My fingers traced the delicate paper of the note, and as I read the words, they stirred a whirlwind of emotions. The poem was written in delicate script, the words flowing like music... and it was about love. Each line spoke of tenderness, trust, and a future filled with hope. The words were so beautiful, it was as if they were carefully chosen specifically for me.
The little poem, written with a tender brush of affection, read:
"From the morning dew to the evening's glow, My love for you continues to grow. Through shadows and light, in every season's rain, Our bond remains, a gentle refrain.
In whispers of joy and moments of peace, I hold you close within my heart's embrace. Each smile shared, each memory we weave, My love will remain a boundless pledge."
I was so confused, who could've been behind this? As I read the poem again, my mind wandered to Lando for a moment. I quickly dismissed that Idea. He had confessed that he couldn't write romantic words, finding them cringeworthy.
If it wasn't Lando, then who would have written such a poem?
As the day wrapped up, I found myself heading home, my mind still lingering on the mysterious poem. Entering my home, I sank onto the couch, exhaustion seeping through my bones. The softness of the cushions welcomed me as my thoughts played through my mind, trying to unravel the mystery.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ring of the doorbell that echoed through my home. It was late in the evening, and I couldn't guess who might be at the door at such a time. With some curiosity and a hint of wariness, I got up to answer.
I went over to the door to open it and I was met with a delivery man. The delivery man handed me a massive bouquet of fresh flowers and a large box of chocolates. The fragrance from the flowers mingled with the scent of chocolate. The combination was almost overwhelming, leaving me baffled as I accepted the gifts.
Now I was even more confused, this bouquet was even bigger than the one from my office. And the weird thing was, that the chocolates I got were only my favorites.
I examined the box of chocolates, finding another note attached to the top. Carefully, I opened the wrapper, retrieving the note. Just like the previous one, it was written on delicate paper, filled with intrigue. I unfolded it, ready to read the message.
As I unfolded the paper, I was met with neat, elegant handwriting. The words held a romantic touch, and I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity. The second poem spoke of tender love and adoration.
"Your presence brings light to every room, A symphony of grace in each simple bloom. Though we may walk separate paths in life, My heart's allegiance is a ceaseless strife."
I sat there, taken aback by the heartfelt words. They spoke of admiration and deep affection. Who could have written these beautiful poems and left them for me? The confusion deepened, and I pondered who could be behind the mysterious gestures.
Plagued by curiosity, I reached for my phone and called my best friend, hoping for answers. As the call rang, I prepared myself for a wave of questions, expecting her to know something.
My best friend's cheerful voice filled the call, answering instantly. "Hello?" She sounded cheerful as ever, not knowing the mystery I was about to unload on her.
I cut straight to the point, my tone slightly urgent. "Hey, I have a question. So, I've been receiving anonymous flowers, chocolates, and... poems." I paused a moment. "Any idea who it could be?" I asked, hoping for some insight.
She was silent for a moment, her surprise apparent. But then her voice brightened, and I could tell she had a theory. "Oooh, a mystery admirer?" she asked, half-joking, half-curious.
I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Well, yes. It is somewhat mysterious." I replied, unable to hide the hint of unease in my voice amidst the flowers and chocolates surrounding me.
We delved into the mystery, discussing possibilities. From past crushes to unknown admirers, we contemplated various scenarios. But no concrete conclusion surfaced, leaving me even more intrigued and slightly frustrated.
That was until my best friend's insight sparked a new perspective. She pointed out that the mystery admirer seemed to know me well. They knew my workplace, my love for romantic poems, and even my favorite chocolates and flowers. It wasn't just a coincidence; they seemed to have a grasp on my habits. The timing of the delivery was eerily precise, appearing just when I arrived home.
My best friend continued, her voice filled with speculation. "It's not just the flowers and chocolates, it's the timing. They know your work schedule. It's almost like they're watching, waiting for the right moment."
I agreed, thoughtfully absorbing. "Yeah, that's been bothering me. The timing is too perfect. They either know my schedule or they're stalking me." I chuckled, trying to soften the situation with humor.
"Wait!" My best friend suddenly interrupted, a speculative glint in her eyes. "Could it have been Lando?"
The name hung heavily in the air, bringing our conversation to a halt.
I shook my head, quickly dismissing the idea. "No, probably not. Lando doesn't enjoy writing, especially not romantic poems. He always told me he found them cringe."
My bestie nodded, acknowledging my response. "Ah, right. He's not exactly the poetic type, is he?"
I grinned slightly, remembering Lando's disdain for poetic words. "Nope, definitely not. He'd rather punch a wall than write a poem." I joked, the idea of Lando writing a poem seeming far-fetched, even for a moment.
After a while of thinking and cracking our brains open, we ended the conversation, deciding to table the mystery for the moment. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone, my mind still swirling with questions. I prepared for the night, the flowers and chocolates lingering in the background, their presence a reminder of the mysterious admirer.
Several months passed, and the mysterious gifts persisted, each one more thoughtful and personal. The flowers continued arriving, alongside a new addition - small, handmade tokens. Notes slipped into the bouquet containing thoughtful messages, while a box of my favorite chocolates came with a heartfelt poem.
I sought information, asking friends and family if they knew anything. They were taken by surprise and genuinely had no idea who was behind the surprises. The mystery deepend as everyone denied any involvement.
The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.
The mystery escalated. Along with the physical gifts, I discovered a surprise on my phone. Text messages arrived with miniature poems, each one carefully crafted and sweet. The sender's number remained undisclosed, leaving me baffled about the identity.
The messages, delivered alongside the tangible gifts, carried messages that resonated with my emotions and experiences. It felt almost as if this person truly knew me, yet remained hidden behind the anonymity of their identity.
It was that time again - our annual girls' night out. We always looked forward to these nights, a chance to let loose and have a blast in a vibrant club. I had my best friend beside me, ready to dance the night away. The only problem? My best friend chose a club that Lando used to go to every time. She reassured me that he wouldn't be here which I took her word for.
We strutted into the club, excitement filling the air. Music pulsed through the venue, the bass matching the rhythm of our hearts. The lights dazzled the dance floor, and we blended into the crowd, the worries of the day fading in the throes of the nightlife. We decided to hit the dance floor, letting go of any inhibitions as we lost ourselves in the music.
We danced with abandon, the beat pulsating through us, the rhythmic movements our shared language. The neon lights flashed, adding an electric charge to the atmosphere. As we danced and whirled, we felt liberated from the daily grind, living in the moment, lost in the music and the company of my best friend.
Later that night we both got thirsty, I made my way to the bar to get us drinks, when suddenly a man approached me. I could already smell the alcohol on him as he staggered towards me, a lopsided smile plastered on his face.
He smirked, his words coming out in a clumsy manner. "Hey there, pretty lady," he slurred, his tone oozing with an unwanted familiarity. He invaded my personal space, leaning in a bit too close for comfort.
I could feel the warmth of his breath, tainted with alcohol, against my cheek as he spoke. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?" He tried to flirt, his persistence evident even amidst his intoxication.
I tried to maintain a polite smile, stepping back slightly. "I'm here with a friend," I replied, my voice a mix of politeness and discomfort. I glanced at the bartender, silently praying for my order to arrive sooner so I could escape this uncomfortable interaction.
He chuckled, his intoxication making him clumsy yet bold. "Oh, come on. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be tied down to just one friend. You should let loose and have fun," he insisted, his words filled with a suggestive undertone.
I tried to end the conversation, giving him a firm but polite dismissal. "Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my tone leaving no room for further conversation. I discreetly inched closer to the bar, hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone.
Instead of taking the hint, he persisted. "Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper. One drink won't hurt," he insisted, his words slurring even more. He took another step closer, trying to close the gap between us.
I felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance as his persistence continued. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, leaving a cloying odor on the air. I tried to maintain my composure, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting him to back off.
He took another step closer, his gaze lingering on me. I could see the effects of the alcohol on him - the unsteady steps, the glazed look in his eyes, the clumsy attempts at charm. He reached out, attempting to touch my arm, his gesture too familiar and unwelcome.
The guy got annoyed when I backed away. He reached out, his hand grabbing my arm with a firm grip, trying to pull me back. I felt a jolt of fear as he attempted to drag me.
His hold tightened, his voice a mix of frustration and insistence. "Come on, don't you know how to have fun? Just one drink, a little chat." He tugged at me, his alcohol-fueled stubbornness evident.
I felt a mix of panic and defiance. "Let me go, you sick prick!" I exclaimed, my voice strained. I glanced around, hoping for someone to intervene, but every face seemed lost in their own world, oblivious or uncaring about the situation. The loud music blared, making it seem as if no one could hear my cries for help.
The guy gripped my arm tighter, his eyes filled with a mix of drunken determination. He leaned in closer, his face twisted with frustration. "Why are you making this so difficult? Just one drink, come on."
He forced me into an empty, private room, his grip on my arm still strong, leaving me with a sense of dread. The music was a distant throb outside, leaving me more isolated in this unsettling scenario.
His grip faltered as someone unexpectedly appeared, a figure entering the room with a decisive move. Before the guy could even think of pulling me fully into the room, someone intervened, delivering a well-aimed punch to his gut. The guy groaned, doubled over in pain as he released his grip on me.
The guy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as the force of the blow rippled through him. Confusion, pain, and shock replaced the smugness from before. I could only watch, relief washing over me as I realized I wasn't alone anymore.
The drunk guy, overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the punch, scrambled to his feet before stumbling out of the room, whimpering in pain. The sudden exit left me alone with the mysterious person who had stepped in to save me.
Lando rushed towards me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion. The warm green in his eyes held a mix of worry and relief that I was alright.
He reached for my arm where the drunk guy had grabbed me before, inspecting the area to check if I was hurt. I could feel the tenderness as he gently ran his fingers over the spot, ensuring I was unharmed. Lando then gazed at my face, studying it for any signs of distress.
I gently pulled my hand away, forcing a small smile to reassure him. "I'm okay," I insisted, my voice steady but guarded. His concern was palpable, and I could see the relief in his eyes as he saw that I was not physically harmed.
Lando seemed desperate, unwilling to let me leave just yet. He reached for my arm again, his grasp gentle but firm. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.
My response came sharp, biting. "Why would I? You didn't try to reach out, didn't try to find me, or even show an ounce of concern until now," I shot back, my words laced with bitterness and resentment.
Lando's response came with a mix of frustration and hidden emotion. "I haven't tried? Since our last talk, I've done everything I could to win you back," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Who do you think sent you all those gifts? Who else would know your work schedule, your favorite foods, your love for poems? I know I said I hated them, but for you, I embraced them."
His words were layered with hurt and a desire for reconciliation. Lando finally confessed, "It was me, all along. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever, so I hoped my gestures would speak for me." The pain in his face was evident, his eyes pleading for understanding.
I stammered at his words, a mixture of surprise and confusion overwhelming me. Never in my entire life I would've thought Lando would do all of this for me. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend the lengths he had gone to reach me.
My voice trembled as I spoke, "So... you were behind those text messages as well? How...? But I blocked all your accounts, even the new ones. How did you manage to send me messages?"
Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he confessed. "I bought a new phone with a different SIM card... just so I could message you." His answer hung in the air, the weight of his dedication palpable in the quiet space of the room.
He continued, his voice earnest, "I couldn't bear the silence between us, the distance. Even if you blocked me everywhere, I had to find a way to reach you, to express how I felt." The depth of his yearning and determination to keep the connection alive was evident in each word.
I remained silent, overwhelmed by his confession. Lando had gone to great lengths just to communicate with me, buying a new phone and SIM card, defying my attempts to cut off contact. The depth of his dedication was both touching and overwhelming. I couldn't deny the mix of emotions swirling within me.
Lando stood there, his eyes searching mine, desperate for a glimmer of hope. The air hung heavy with anticipation as he awaited my reaction, his vulnerability on full display, his heart on his sleeve.
I grappled for a response, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I... I'm still processing this," I managed to utter, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why let me think you didn't care?" I blurted out, a hint of betrayal seeping into my voice.
Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his shoulders slouching slightly. "I was afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of being rejected, scared that you would push me away if I tried to talk to you and most importantly scared you would've moved on. I thought sending those gifts and messages would be a way to reach out without directly risking rejection."
I stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. His confession laid bare his fears and insecurities, exposing the vulnerability beneath his usually composed facade. But my hurt remained, the sting of his silence lingering.
I couldn't hide my feelings, and I let my resentment spill out. "But you let me suffer!" I cried out, the pain pouring out in my words. "I thought you didn't care, that you moved on, while I was here, hurting over our broken relationship."
Lando's face contorted with pain at my outburst, his shoulders sinking lower. He took a step forward, bridging the gap between us. "I know, I know," he pleaded, his voice filled with regret. "I was a coward. I let fear dictate my choices, and I hurt you in the process. I'm sorry."
I wanted to believe him, to fall into the comfort of his apology and the sweet gestures he had made, but the wounds of the past remained. The memories of his silence, his refusal to communicate, and the pain I endured still weighed heavily on my heart.
Lando saw the hesitance in my eyes, noticed the barrier I had put up. His expression pleaded with me, a mixture of sorrow and yearning. I could tell he wanted me to forgive him, to let him back in.
"Lando, I'm so conflicted," I confessed, my voice cracking. The wounds of the past still fresh, I couldn't let go easily. "How can I trust that you won't hurt me again? I've suffered so much because of you, how can I be sure you won't do something like this again?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would quell my doubts. The pain was still too raw to simply forgive and forget.
Lando's eyes filled with remorse, his face a mask of sorrow and guilt. He knew he had caused me pain and had no right to expect forgiveness so easily. He stepped closer, the gap between us becoming smaller. With a gentle voice, he spoke. "I don't ask for you to trust me instantly," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want to prove to you that I've changed, that I won't make the same mistakes again. Please, just give me a chance to show you."
I held his gaze, my eyes pleading for understanding. "I need some time," I implored, my voice shaky. "I can't just forget overnight. Give me the space to process everything, to heal." The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming, and I needed time to make sense of the rollercoaster of events.
Lando's response was gentle and resolute. "I will wait for you. Remember, even if it takes ten years," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability. "I'll be here when you're ready, no matter how long it takes."
I looked back at Lando, his pleading eyes yearning for a reprieve. With a heavy heart, I whispered, "Goodbye," and reluctantly turned away. The music and lights faded as I weaved through the crowd, searching for my best friend who had remained oblivious to the emotional storm that had just unfolded between Lando and me.
I found my best friend in the crowd, her smile lighting up upon seeing me. However, her smile quickly faded as she saw the tears streaming down my face. Without a word, she stood up, concern etched on her face.
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me towards the exit. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "Let's go home."
We stepped out of the club, the cool outside air a stark contrast to the stifling heat inside. We hailed an Uber, and my bestie decided to spend the night to provide comfort and lend an ear.
We settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine accompanying us as we made our way home. I took a deep breath, preparing to recount the tumultuous events of the evening to my best friend.
The Uber pulled up in front of my building, and we disembarked, the night's cool air a stark reminder of the emotional journey I had been through. We made our way into my house, the silence between us filled with anticipation.
We entered my house, the familiarity of the space providing a semblance of comfort. My bestie guided me to the couch, pulling a blanket over us as we settled in for what was sure to be a long night of conversation.
I poured my heart out, recounting every detail, from Lando's apology to the painful memories that still lingered. My best friend listened intently, her eyes widening in surprise and shock as she took in the emotional rollercoaster I had described.
She was stunned, her face reflecting the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded. "Wow," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe he did all that."
My voice trembled with uncertainty, "I don't know what to do," I confessed, my emotions a tumultuous mess. "I want to trust him, but it's so hard to ignore the pain he caused. It feels like a never-ending cycle of confusion and fear." I rested my head on my friend's shoulder, seeking solace in her presence.
She rubbed my back soothingly, her support an anchor that kept me from drifting further into despair. In a gentle yet reassuring tone, she spoke. "It's okay to feel conflicted. Trust is earned, and forgiveness takes time. Don't rush yourself. Take whatever time you need to figure out what you want." She held me closer, offering her presence as a grounding force amidst the chaos.
My best friend posed the question that echoed within me, "Do you still love him?" The question sliced through the air, digging deep into emotions I had tried to bury.
Hesitantly, I met her gaze, tears glistening in my eyes. "I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
My friend's words were honest, cutting through the confusion. She persisted, "That isn't an answer, y/n. It's a simple yes or no question." I remained silent for a long moment, my emotions swirling inside. Finally, after an excruciating pause, I whispered, "Fine, yes. Yes, I still love him." The admission hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.
My best friend looked at me, her eyes mirroring a mixture of understanding and support. "Give him a chance," she urged, her voice gentle yet firm. "Don't give in immediately. See how far he's willing to go. If he goes beyond just gifts and gestures, you'll know he's sincere.''
A wave of confusion washed over me, and I turned to her for clarification. "What do you mean, 'beyond gifts and gestures'?" I inquired, the words tumbling out in a whispered plea for understanding.
She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then met my gaze with an earnest expression. "I mean, beyond just grand gestures. Beyond the gifts and the poems. Love is about more than just gestures. It's about genuine care, about being there for each other, through every high and low. It's about trust and communication. Those are the true tests of sincere love," she replied, her words wise and heartfelt.
She continued, her voice steady. "If Lando truly cares about you, he will show it in every aspect of his life, not just with grand gestures. He will prioritize your needs, respect your boundaries, and be there for you, even in the most ordinary moments."
Her words resonated within me, their truth echoing in my heart. It didn't matter if he had sent flowers or sweet poems. Love wasn't just about gifts; it was about presence, understanding, and unwavering support through life's tumultuous journey.
We continued talking for hours, my best friend's words sinking deep into my thoughts. Eventually, we decided to call it a day, both exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster. My mind whirled with questions as we prepared to say our goodnights.
Lando's dedication persisted. In the days that followed, his gestures remained constant. I noticed flowers and chocolates carefully placed on my desk each morning, a poem hidden amidst the petals, and a warm coffee waiting when I arrived in the morning, exactly how I liked it.
Today it was different. I heard a knock on my office door, I replied with a simple 'come in' as the person entered. Lando stood in my office doorway, his hands holding my favorite coffee and a neatly prepared lunch. He spoke softly, concern in his voice.
"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I know you can get forgetful about your nutrition while working. So I brought you something." The gesture warmed my heart, leaving me momentarily speechless.
His willingness to break away from his busy schedule, solely to ensure I took care of myself, touched me deeply.
"Thank you," I expressed gratefully, touched by his thoughtfulness. I had to ask him, curious about the sacrifice of his valuable time. "But aren't you busy? You still made time for this?"
Lando responded, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I'm busy," he admitted. "But I make time for you because you matter to me."
His simple yet powerful response struck a chord within me. In the midst of the busyness of life, he had made time for me, prioritizing my wellbeing. It spoke volumes about his devotion and care, that he was willing to sacrifice his valuable time just to ensure I wasn't neglecting myself.
The sincerity in his eyes and the way he stood in my office doorway, a small lunch in hand, felt overwhelming. It was as if he was trying to prove that he valued our connection more than the hustle and bustle of life.
In the weeks that followed, Lando's gestures became an integral part of my routine. He arrived at my office each morning with my favorite coffee, not missing a single day, even when I forgot it myself. During lunch breaks, he carefully watched over me, ensuring I ate, sometimes even bringing me delectable meals he prepared himself. He began helping me with paperwork, even when he didn't have the expertise—a gesture that left me touched.
Once, when I found a mouse in my apartment, he came at 4 a.m., not hesitating for a moment despite having an early flight.
His devotion continued. In the midst of his travels, he remained constant in sending me thoughtful gifts. The distance didn't seem to matter as his love crossed time and continents.
With each passing day, my heart opened up a little more. His gestures filled my heart with a mix of gratitude, warmth, and a hint of rekindling love.
It seemed like any ordinary day, with Lando on the other side of the world for a race. I was engulfed in my work, my focus solely on the paperwork, to the neglect of myself. Suddenly, my colleague Linda burst into my office.
Linda spoke with concern, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working nonstop. Come on, let's get something to eat." I protested, insisting on finishing my task first, but Linda's stern expression was unrelenting. I agreed reluctantly, rising from my seat. Little did I know, the world was about to spin.
As we walked, I started feeling dizzy, an unfamiliar sensation overtaking me. Linda's voice was heard from beside me. "Sweetheart are you alright?"
"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured Linda, believing I had just stood up too quickly. Yet, before I could take another step, my world slipped away, and I plunged into the darkness of unconsciousness.
Linda witnessed the sudden collapse and hurried to my side, concern filling her voice. "y/n, are you okay?" she asked urgently, but I was unresponsive, the world around me fading into blackness.
The sound of voices echoed in the distance, Linda's voice calling my name. However, the comforting embrace of darkness held me captive.
As I emerged from the haze of unconsciousness, I felt a soothing yet firm hold on my hand. I groaned softly, my eyes slowly creaking open, reluctantly adjusting to the stark brightness of my surroundings.
As my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. The sterile environment, the soft hum of medical equipment, and the distinctive smell of antiseptic filled the air. I heard someone calling my name, I turned my head, my gaze drifting towards the source of the voice that called my name.
I blinked, still in a state of surprise to see Lando beside me. He looked at me with concern, his presence unexpected given that he was supposed to be on the opposite side of the globe. He spoke urgently, "How are you feeling? Should I call for a doctor?" His worry was evident in his eyes as he waited for my response.
Amidst the haze of confusion and exhaustion, my mind clung to one question. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice weak but filled with surprise. "You're supposed to be on the other side of the world."
His response caught me off guard, touching my heart amidst the whirlwind of emotions. "I'm you're emergency contact," he reminded me, and the realization set in.
He had crossed continents and time zones, arriving swiftly on his private jet, driven by his concern for my well-being. I had been asleep for 12 hours, and in that timeframe, he had made his way across the globe to be by my side.
The depth of his commitment touched my heart. Despite the demands of his career, he had flown across the world to be by my side, prioritizing my well-being above everything else. The knowledge that he was my emergency contact made a surge of warmth flow through me. It was a reminder of my significance in his life and the lengths he would go to for me.
I tried to compose myself, my voice still weak, I told him, "You shouldn't have done this. You have important things to attend."
Guilt tugged at me, knowing he had sacrificed his commitments to be here. His racing schedule, his career, everything seemed secondary to his concern for me in that moment.
Lando shook his head, his expression resolute. "I don't care, none of it matters as much as you do," he insisted, his gaze filled with sincerity. He reached out to gently hold my hand, his touch comforting. "Nothing is as important as you," he repeated, emphasizing his priorities.
His words struck a nerve, causing a mix of emotions to rise within me. Tears welled up in my eyes, his unwavering devotion filling me with a combination of gratitude and sorrow. I had doubted him, feared a lack of commitment, yet here he was, proving me wrong in the most dramatic way possible.
His presence in the hospital room, despite the distance he traveled, felt surreal. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the background seemed distant compared to the intense emotions swirling between us. Lando held my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
In that moment of tender silence, Lando spoke again. His voice was soft, carrying a mix of concern and affection. He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. "I was so worried," he admitted, his eyes locked on mine. "Seeing you here in the hospital... was terrifying."
His eyes mirrored the vulnerability he rarely displayed, raw emotions laid bare. The fear he had felt, the concern that gripped him, all visible in his expression. The reality of the situation weighed heavily between us, his emotions palpable and sincere.
I offered a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries, though the weakness in my voice betrayed my fatigue. "I'm okay," I whispered, exhaustion evident in my words. My weak hand attempted to squeeze his in return, hoping to show my gratitude despite my physical state.
Lando's grip on my hand tightened, his thumb tracing comforting circles on my skin. His gaze remained focused on me, studying my face, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was skeptical of my reassurance, his worry etched on his furrowed brow.
We delved into conversation, discussing random topics, our worries fading into the background. Our chat was filled with laughter and genuine connection. However, our peaceful moment was interrupted when the doctor entered the room for a routine check-up. The doctor informed me that I was discharged, giving me the okay to leave.
Lando assisted me in gathering my belongings, the tenderness in his gestures evident. He carried my bag and carefully guided me out of the hospital room. We paced side by side, making our way to Lando's car parked outside.
We traveled in a soothing silence, the weight of the hospital now off our shoulders. As we reached my place, Lando diligently helped me bring my belongings inside and prepared to leave. But before he could go, he paused and called my name, the sound breaking the tranquility.
I turned my attention his way, meeting his eyes with curiosity. "Yes?" I responded, wondering what was on his mind. His voice had held a hint of hesitation, as if there was something important he wanted to convey.
He inhaled sharply, the weight of his question becoming apparent. He spoke with vulnerability, "There's something I want to ask you. You're free to refuse, but I genuinely want to ask... Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?"
I was initially startled, but the anticipation in his eyes was evident. He swiftly added, "Only if you want it to be a date of course" I could see the sincerity in his gaze. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted his invitation, my voice steady with anticipation. "Yes."
The relief and happiness that washed over Lando's face at my acceptance were evident. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You'll go on a date with me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and joy in his tone. "Really?"
The vulnerability in Lando's voice hinted at the significance of my acceptance. He was eager to hear my confirmation once more, his eyes glimmering with hope. I smiled warmly, reassuring him, "Yes, I'll go on a date with you."
We bid each other good night, both feeling the exhilaration of the upcoming date. The way we acted mirrored that of teenagers experiencing their first date, a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. As we exchanged a final glance, our connection felt like a magnetic pull, both eager for the moment to come. The goodbye lingered for a few moments, filled with electricity.
The evening of our date arrived, and my best friend was diligently working on styling my hair, while I focused on applying my makeup. She fussed over my locks, while I carefully applied concealer and mascara to enhance my eyes. My outfit hung on the closet's door, chosen for the evening. The weight of my excitement made my heart flutter in anticipation of the night ahead.
My best friend, brushing through my hair as she styled it, spoke up. "You know, Lando really went above and beyond for you, don't you think he deserves a chance?" she said, emphasizing his efforts.
There was a pause as I met her gaze in the mirror, a mix of emotions coursing through me. I set down my mascara and turned to face her, the weight of her words settling.
She looked at me, waiting for my response, her eyes filled with a mix of encouragement and genuine concern. The reminder of Lando's efforts weighed heavily on my thoughts. He had shown dedication and cared for me, but my past fears and apprehensions lingered, making it hard to fully let go.
I took a moment, considering her words. Inhaling deeply, I nodded, offering a soft smile of agreement. "Yeah, I know," I admitted, my voice a mix of vulnerability and hope. "But it's... it's hard to trust after everything."
I voiced my intentions, my eyes glimmering with determination. "I want to give him a chance," I declared, my resolve strengthened. "Not just a chance, but an opportunity to show me that he's worth trusting." My past pain weighed heavily on my heart, but the hope in my voice was undeniable.
Her squeal of happiness filled the room, echoing her encouragement. "Oh my god, y/n! I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You're doing the right thing, giving him a shot. He'll make you so happy!"
She grinned, her excitement infectious. "I can feel it in my bones, this is gonna be great. He's going to sweep you off your feet."
We concluded our primping, with my best friend leaving with a parting "keep me updated, and good luck!" The anticipation in my stomach intensified, a mix of excitement and nerves gripping me. I took another glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance one last time.
I was wearing a black off shoulder dress, that hugged my curves nicely. I paired it with the famous uncomfy YSL heels and matching purse. My hair was styled in a beautiful blow out flowing over my shoulders. I sighed one more time before grabbing my stuff.
The doorbell echoed through the room, signaling Lando's arrival with its gentle tone. My heart leaped in my chest, his presence just outside my door.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and then opened the door. Lando stood there, his presence immediately filling the space, and warmth spread through my chest. He looked handsome, his well-groomed appearance evident, but it was his warm eyes and gentle smile that greeted me.
Lando stood before me, a bouquet of vibrant flowers in hand. His expression was one of awe, his words momentarily lost. He managed to compose himself and spoke, his voice filled with admiration. "You look absolutely stunning," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.
The flowers were a beautiful display of color, their delicate petals reflecting the soft light of the hallway. Lando held them out, offering them to me like a bouquet of promises. I extended my hand, taking them with a soft smile, his compliment making my cheeks flush.
We walked out together, arm in arm, the cold evening air washing over us. Lando guided me to his car, opening the passenger door and helping me inside as a gentleman. As we settled in, the city lights danced outside, casting a cozy ambiance in the car.
We arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian bistro with soft lighting and a cozy ambiance. Lando got out, rushing to open my door, offering a hand to help me out with a soft smile. The scent of fresh herbs and garlic filled the air, a promise of a delicious meal to come.
We stepped inside, the warmth wrapping around us. The atmosphere was romantic, with soft music playing in the background. Lando guided me to a table by the windows, pulling out my chair before taking a seat himself. Candles flickered on the table, casting a soft glow over everything.
We settled into our seats at the table, the ambiance around us serene and inviting. The waiter approached, greeting us warmly and setting menus before us. The scent of fresh bread and delectable aromas wafted from the kitchen, fueling the anticipation for the meal ahead.
Lando spoke with confidence, knowing my preferences. "What do you want to get?" he asked, but before I could respond, he answered himself, "No, I know already. Let me guess... the carbonara." A smile tugged at my lips as he remembered my favorites so effortlessly. I replied, "You know it," a mix of affection and appreciation filling my voice. His attention to detail and memories of things I liked made my heart swell with warmth.
The night unfolded, filled with lively conversation and laughter. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in our connection, the sound of others around us fading into the background. It felt as if the world had narrowed down to just us, an intimate bubble filled with shared laughter, stolen glances, and shared stories.
As the night drew to a close, neither of us wanted it to end. Lando paid for the meal, and I thanked him with genuine gratitude. We decided to take a stroll, drawn to a nearby bench that offered a view of the water. As we settled onto the bench, the gentle moonlight illuminated the night, casting a silvery glow over the water's surface.
I broke the comfortable silence, my voice soft and sincere. "Lando?" I began, my words carrying heartfelt appreciation. "I really enjoyed today. Thank you," I expressed, my eyes glimmering with warmth as I looked at him.
Lando met my gaze, a soft smile playing at his lips. He spoke with sincerity, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, his eyes mirroring the appreciation in mine. "It means the world to me that you had a good time. I truly enjoyed every moment with you."
I addressed the elephant in the room, acknowledging the immense effort he'd put in. "You know, you really have gone above and beyond for me these past months," I said, my tone sincere.
It had been a challenge to regain my trust, and Lando's consistent gestures had played a significant role in rebuilding it. His eyes glimmered with a mix of vulnerability and hope, absorbing my words.
Lando's voice was quiet as he responded, his tone sincere. "I know I have, but every moment of it was worth it," he confessed, his emotions clear in his eyes.
"I wanted to show you that you could trust me, that I would go to any lengths to earn your trust," he added, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and earnestness.
I continued, my questions flowing out. "What about after we get back together? Would you still care about me like this" I inquired, my eyes searching his.
Lando's expression shifted, vulnerability and sincerity mixing in his gaze.
"After we get back together, I want to cherish every moment even more," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to support you, care for you, and be there for you through anything. I want to keep building on the trust we have and make our relationship stronger than ever."
His sincere words found their way to my heart, a tenderness washing over me. The vulnerability in his expression, combined with his commitment to cherishing our relationship, stirred something within me.
I spoke up, my voice soft but filled with resolution. "I think," I began, "I'm ready to be yours again."
Lando stood up, his eyes wide with disbelief, his emotions overwhelming him. He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the bench in a tight embrace.
As he spun us around in a whirlwind of joy, he spoke with heartfelt conviction, "I won't disappoint you ever again. I love you so much."
His hands remained on my waist, a tender touch that seemed to anchor me. I felt a surge of warmth and contentment as I replied with a giggle that turned into laughter, sharing in Lando's excitement.
"I love you too, Lan," I confessed, my eyes glimmering with affection
Lando's grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, a fusion of his emotions and desires. The softness of the moment contrasted with the intensity of our feelings, the kiss sending a surge of electricity through my body. I melted into his embrace, returning the kiss.
As the kiss intensified into a make-out session, I reluctantly pulled away, the reminder of Lando's fame echoing in my mind. However, Lando was unfazed, his response quick and resolute.
He shrugged off the potential consequences, insisting, "Let them see. I've got my girl back, and that's all that matters." His smile was filled with a mixture of certainty and passion as he pulled me back, their lips meeting once more in a toe-curling kiss that seemed to defy any outside concerns.
The moon shone down, lighting up the night as Lando wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, and we walked back to his car. The air held a delicate sense of anticipation, and as we drove away, I nestled my head against Lando's shoulder, feeling safe and cherished.
Gratitude and affection swelled within me as I realized I had given Lando another chance, and that my heart had bloomed open once again. I smiled, my thoughts swirling with appreciation and love for the incredible journey we were about to embark on.
The end
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando fanfic#lando x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando fluff#lando x you#lando x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris angst#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris x oc#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 fluff#f1 angst
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Kitten | The Salesman x Fem!Reader
Summary: Something about you catchs his eyes. Now he wants you all for himself.
Warnings: Obsess!Salesman - Canon violence - Suggestive - Manipulation - Reader loves cats - Maybe OOC - Kind of pet play - E/C = eye color - Reader gets called Kitten -
Another morning, another day ahead, names to meet and recruit, a speech that was deep in his mind.
His movements were calculated, robotic, his smile a fake one, to hide the disgust he felt towards the peopel he had to met.
The last hour, the last train and last name. Your name. The Salesman did his usual thing while waiting for you to appear, get himself a coffee from a cheap machine and let his mind wonder.
Even if he had read your file in order to have the upper hand in the exchange, he was curious to see how you truly were, how would you react to his approach, what would you say or do once he told you about the game.
Maybe the work of the day was getting him, his eyes did let (only for the observant ones) that he was tired to not degree.
One more, one more worm and I can go home.
The train came, lots of faces walked pass him, he only wanted to find yours and put an end to his day.
Finally He saw you, you were looking at your phone, smiling? Well he guessed even someone in your situation could smile.
Maybe you got a lover back home.
He saw how you took a seat, most likely to rest after a long day at your underpaid work, that did not cover any of the debts you had. Yet you did not look discouraged or sad, you were rather animated by what your body language gave out.
Feets moving side to side like a song was playing only for you. That smile and a spark in your eyes...
How dumb yet cute.
Still, he needed to end the day and your name was the last one. So there he went, moving with confidence till he took a seat besides you, his trusted briefcase close.
"Miss.." He tried to get your attention but nothing, you were too deep in your phone writing something. He dared to take a look.
What in-
Cats. Multiple pictures of cats. Different colors, shapes and ages.
It was not the most strange thing he had seen from someones phone but still...
A new photo came in, it was a cat, rather slim with one leg missing but it seemed full of life.
"Im glad you are fine" He hear your whisper thanks to the sitation now out of peopel and that even if you whispered it was rather loud. Most likely you had no sense of self preservation or did check your surroundings since he was able to basically see your phone screen and your messages for...four minutes?
Yes, defently too much for the little patience he had, he wanted to end his day now.
"Excusme Miss" He tried again this time louder and it did finally caught your attention.
You turned to him, too lost checking your cats and how they were doing so far. You never noticed the man besides you. He was tall, black hair and wearing a suit. You could tell it was a rather expensive one, at his feets was a briefcase.
Ah Salesman, he must sells life saves or something.
"Sorry Sir, im in no position to buy anything" You said looking at his dark eyes and bowing then you went back to check your phone.
Well someone ignoring him was not a first.
"Miss, im not here to sell you anything" He started getting your attention back with a rather funny and confused look on your face. "Im here to ask you to play a game with me"
"...A game?" You asked not really beliving your ears. What man would ask a stranger to play a game with them at 11 p.m. in a subway station?
Was this a scam ? A trap maybe ?
Ah, the confusion, he was used to get that too and could only give you a polite fake smile back.
"Yes a game, a game of ddakji" He clarifited pulling from his suit pocket two papper pieces, one blue and other red. "If you manage to win I will give you ₩100.000" He recite just as he always did.
Your eyes opened a bit after that information, while it would not help you that much it would be free money...you could get a warm dinner, something that your current situation did not let you do.
But, there was not a thing as simple as free money, right ? There must be a catch.
"And what would happen if I lose?" You asked him, the hesitation in your voice was clear for The Salesman who just smiled again.
"If you lose, you pay me back ₩100,00. But I doubt you will lose in a childs game" He added trying to incite you to engage in the game.
He studied your face, you were thinking about it, temped by it. Even if the money was not enough, the chance was all it needed to start a chain of thoughts in your mind and finally accept.
And while you were indeed thinking a ring from your phone took your attention away, a new message a new cat pic.
Right, I cant do this. You thought.
"Sorry Sir I must refuse" You started giving him a bow "Even if my chances of winning were high, Im not in position to give you ₩100,000 if I lose. It would not be fair to you" You smiled at him thinking all of this was ending.
He blinked a bit taken back, not because you refused, he had deal with that before, but what you said.
Fair.
The world was not fair. The information in your file let that clear, it was obvious that you knew it.
Then why not take advantage of this? Even If he was just giving you the illusion of money, why not try ? And more, why be worried over whats fair ?
"May I ask why you cant play with me?" He finally said, pulling the pappers back inside his suit pocket. "Its not a big amount of money and I would not make fun of you if you lose"
He was trying for you to feel safe, maybe you were nervous he would judge you ? He knew he could be quiet intimidating
"Oh! Well its rather...embarrassing" You responded, nervously biting your lower lip then looking at the ground.
The Salesman's eyes lingered over your lips, the way you just bite them. Maybe he was getting tired but something from that action just called him, made his body react.
"It cant be that bad" He tried again, trying to sound gentle
"Well, im in debt because my ex-boyfriend ran away with the money for the Cat Shelter we had together, took away all my savings and I ended in debt cause of it" Your tone did let him know you were angry, sad, frustrated and ashamed.
Well, he did know. But hearing out loud did make it sound funnier he could not lie to himself.
But seeing your face now, that sad look and how you had looked so happy earlier at the cat pics (probably some cats you managed to save and find a home before all things went wrong). It made him feel bad for you, something he never felt towards anyone in his line of work.
"Mhm so your ex-boyfriend ran away and then you kept the shelter by yourself?"
He cant lie, it was a cute reason.
But stupid no less.
"I did, we had too many cats and all of them were sick. They needed someone, I could not ignore them" You tried to explain, a sad smile now on your face as you remember the old promises and memories.
And look where that took you.
"I dont hope that you get it, most peopel laughts when I tell them. Even the load sharks had got a good one" You said pulling out your phone and looking at something while the Salesman let his mind wonder.
You were right. He did not get it. It was something he would never do, an act so compassionate towards a creature...it was not in his nature.
"Look, this is Fat Luigi" He hear you said as you showed him your phone with the image of a big fluffy black cat. "When we first got him he was underwheight, most vets told us he would not make it. It was hard, I passed many nights awake taking care of him, and spent lots of money on him. But now seeing him healthy and happy, it just makes it worth it"
"But are you happy right now? Arent you afraid of your debts?" He asked, curious to know how your brain was working under the stress you most likely had.
"Happy...., well I cant say I love my life right now, I work long hours and the job its bad, I have load sharks on my back and the place where the shelter is will most likely be destroyed since I cant pay..."
He nodded listening to you.
"But im not sad. Yes the situation sucks but when i see the cats i managed to help...honestly even if it sounds crazy, I would do it again" You ended giving him a tired yet honest smile. One that made his heart beat a bit faster.
For a few moments he did not say a thing, his mind wondering, he was not sure what, something about you made him feel slighty different.
Maybe it was your wish to help ? Even when you had passed and suffered ? How you still wanted to play fair ?
You two were different in many ways.
"You would?" He asked seeing you nodd without thinking "And tell me, do I look like a cat person ? Would you get me one if you still had your shelter ?" He continued now trying to entertain himself.
You defenetly were not made for the games.
"Well, you do give the energy of a cat person" By the look on his face he was amused "I mean, you seem like you pass many hours outside your home, cats do need their humans but they can work fine alone for a few hours, you would need to pet them for a bit once you get back"
"Oh I see, and what more?" He leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, one hand holding his face as he turned himself to you invading your personal space.
"You seem like someone who will prefer company thats not always over them demanding attention and cats often give you that, well depends on the cat" You explained blushing at his proximity.
"Then, dont you think it would be better for me to get a kitten?"
"They can be handfull-"
"Mhm, I would need a submissive one" He said leaning even closer, you could now see his dark eyes and smell his cologne. "One that will wait for me at home and will...please me when I want it and how I want it"
His hand went towards your face slowly touching your cheeck with his knuckles, it made you blush even more and be more aware of him. Something was telling you that this was dangerous, this man who had approach you, and yet you could not get yourself to move.
"Maybe a kitten with (E/C), a bit dumb, stupid, has no sense of self preservation, needs help to do anything. But" He paused his eyes studying your face "But its also cute, on its way"
You did not respond. Mouth dry, your mind worked around his cryptid words. Was him...insinuating something?
"How big its your debt?" He asked keeping the small distance.
"Too big" you responded your voice letting out how nervous you were. It was a miracle you managed to get these words out.
He smirked, he knew the exact number and also, he loved knowing he was the one causing you to feel nervous, maybe you were scared?
The idea that he could be scaring you excited him.
"Tell you what, I will pay your debt" He saw the suprise in your face and disbelief was impossible to hide "But, you must pay me back" He added moving his hand, his thumb now over your lower lip. "You can pay me with your body, I said I should get a kitten right? I believe you are perfect for that position. All you will have to do.." He trailed off forcing his thumb inside your mouth "Its obey me, when I tell you to do something I expect you to obey. If you dont behave, well lets say I can be very creative with my punishments"
He could see the terror in your eyes but also the combination of hope and arousment.
Sick cute thing, just what he needed
"Mhm, lets give it a try shall we? Suck my thumb like a good kitten, I want to see how well you can obey"
Timidly under his dark stare and big pupils your tongue touched his thumb, a shiver went down his spine as he felt it. Your wet tongue licking his finger trying to give it as much attention as you could.
The Salesman moved it around your tongue, almost groaning when he saw you close your eyes and use one hand to take his arm, like you were grounding yourself. He felt a bulge starting to form and couldn't wait to see how wet you were getting.
Abruptly he took off his finger from your mouth taking your neck and kissing you, it was demanding and not loving. He sucked on your lower lip till you moaned and he used this chance to push his tongue into you, caressing yours and sucking it. Needing to hear you moan one more time for him.
What came first were the sounds of steps, The Salesman separated, breathing hard, just like you. Your face was red and eyes wide open and also full with lust. He moved his hair giving you a twisted smile getting up and taking your hand.
"W-wait were are we going?" You asked at him confused by all of the exchange, "Will you really pay my debt?"
"Oh I will my kitten, you will have your loved shelter back and will be able to rescue all the dam cats in Seoul" He said opening the bathroom of the sitation checking that it was empy.
"But first, I need you to take care of something" He said pointing at the bulge between his legs.
He did not miss how you licked your lips.
"Dont worry, I will get you a collar later, now. Get on your knees and show me just how well you can suck, kitten"
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What is… that?
warnings: none rlly, all fluff :3
@lampylamperson HOPE U LIKE IT !!
a/n: omfg this man IS TOO DAYUM FINE. am I back in my animated men phase ??
The last thing you expected while you waited for your husband to return, was for him to bring a giant kaiju baby with him.
You were sitting on the couch downstairs, your head being held up by your hand as you watched crappy tv shows, when you heard a loud banging noise from outside, you snapped your head up, to see kenji finally swimming in.
The door opened, and water flowed underneath Kenji as he slid onto the floor. “Mina! Emergency analysis.” He said quickly, you furrowing your eyebrows at his suddenness. You stood up, going to his side.
“Scanning for injuries.” She said, he breathed shakily, turning to look at you and back at Mina.
When she got to his hands to scan, he held them close to his chest, as if he was hiding something.
“Ken, this is very strange. According to my readings, you have a… a second heartbeat?”
“No. It’s not my heartbeat, Mina.” He moved his hands to reveal a pink dragon looking thing.
You gasped, eyes going what. “What… is that? Oh my god, Ken, is that a fu-“
“Yep, it’s the end of the world.” He interrupted, sighing, sitting up, the baby sliding down his body and to the floor. Your eyes were blown wide, in pure shock at the huge kaiju you had in front of you.
The baby looked curious, following Mina around as she floated.
“Um… is it okay?”
“She, ken. The infant is a she.”
She climbed all over Ken, trying to get to Mina with little giggles. You tilted your head to the side. “She’s kinda… cute.” You murmured.
“Her breathing seems normal. Reflexes okay. Heart rate seems slightly elevated, but-“
Ken grabbed her again, holding her in his hands. “Just give me the bad news.”
“I have absolutely no specific data on infant kaiju physiology.”
“Wait, I’m sorry.” He chuckled, putting the baby down. She eyed you curiously, and cooed a few times at you, reaching out. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mom and dad program everything they knew about these things into your electric brain.”
She began to walk towards you before Ken grabbed her again, pulling her towards him making you laugh when she had a little sad frown.
“She is not a thing, Ken. And we’ve never seen an infant kaiju. In fact, no one has.”
“Great, super helpful.” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, I think I’d be better off asking Siri.” He retorted, you rolling your eyes.
“I mean, Mina’s not the one that brought a giant freaking kaiju baby home, Ken.” You pointed out, he rolled his eyes and turned to you.
“Well, we have to figure something out. We can’t raise a damn… kaiju baby.” He told you, putting the baby back in front of him and groaning in annoyance when his color timer started beeping again. “Great.” He sighed, looking back at the baby when he realized something.
“Um…” he chuckled. “Why is she changing colors?” He pointed to her.
“Maybe you should ask Siri.” Mina retorted, making you stifle a laugh.
He chuckled. “Do not start, Mina.” He pointed at the robot in front of him.
“If I were to guess, Ken, I’d say she has imprinted on you.” She began to chew on his color timer, he quickly stood up and shook his head. “No. No. No, no! No, no, no!” He plucked the baby off of him, holding her out in front of himself. “Are you saying-“
“Yes, Ken. She thinks you are her mother.”
You had to laugh now, he bumped his head up onto the roof, letting out a yelp.
“I- I am not built for this! I’ve got a life. A title to win!” He groaned. “You do something nice and now I’m babysitting a giant- pink lizard thing!” He shouted. “We’ve gotta get it out of here.”
“And where would we put her?” You asked with a quirked eyebrow.
He groaned, looking down at you. His timer started beeping again. “Oh! Oh, oh, oh, we’ll take her to kaiju island!”
“Unfortunately, Ken, no one knows where to find it.” Mina points out.
He sighed, looking down. “Come on!”
The beeping on his timer became more rapid.
“Ken, it would be very bad if you changed back right now.” Mina said, as if he didn’t already know that.
A large burst of light and he was falling back down to you, you watching him thud onto the ground with a grunt.
He stood up, stretching before turning back to the baby behind him. He chuckled nervously, waving. “Hi…”
The baby’s face changed, her smile turning into a frown as she began to sob out, she let out a screech, large beams of light and energy coming from her mouth.
Kenji screamed, turning back to you and ducking down and grabbing you, pulling you flush to his body as he rolled over. All his cars had fallen, causing him to gasp out. You winced.
“What the heck was that?!” He shouted at the baby, you both standing back up, Ken still in front of you.
She let out more circles of energy, causing the both of you to run.
“She’s scared of you.” Mina spoke.
“Scared of me? She’s 20 feet tall!” He exclaimed.
“She doesn’t know you, she only knows ultraman!”
“Mina! Containment unit!” He yelled when you both had to continue dodging her attacks while running.
“Which one?!”
“The biggest one!” He shouted at her, you both finally panting and turning around when her screeching had stopped and there was no more attacks.
She was now in a giant glass container, her hands and claws on the glass, cooing with a sad face. Kenji sighed in relief. “Oh, God.”
You sighed as well, hitting your husband on his shoulder. “You’re cleaning this place up.”
“Oh, seriously?” He murmured, looking around.
“Hey, you’re her mother, not me.” You teased.
He groaned and shook his head at you. “I’m not her mother.”
“She thinks you are.”
He just rolled his eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder. “I hate you sometimes.” He murmured.
“You love me.”
#kenji sato#ken sato x reader#ken sato#kenji x reader#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato x you#kenji sato x y/n#ken sato x you#ken sato x y/n#ultraman rising#ultraman rising x reader
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Back to you | Part 3(final)
Pair: Jake(human and avatar) x Neytiri x Human reader (trio couple)
Warning: i think kinda sad. soft moments, mmm more neytiri and reader, mention of death, mates.
Note: It's been almost a month now, I'm so sorry. I still have no excuse. I tried to write the story, but I feel that in the end… I didn't like it. I think it could have another ending. But still…I'm going to leave it like this. I hope you like it very much! And thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy this part a lot. Love ya <3
+Read 'Mama's boy' HERE+
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(final)
Everything was supposed to be fine, the meetings Grace had had with the RDA investigation team were supposed to have understood her claims. It was assumed that they would not continue with the massacre they were committing in other clans, it was assumed that no one would have been harmed… it was assumed. That day promised to be a quiet one, neytiri and you were sitting on the stairs of the school, which grace had built. In order to have a better contact with the Omaticaya clan. Although the atmosphere felt a little heavy, the last few weeks you had learned that the clan was planning something against the humans. The mistreatment had led them to make the worst decisions, that's why you had stayed away from the clan. It was not for your liking, you loved being in the clan. But Mo'at insisted that you stay with your people. So you could only see neytiri when they were at school.
They were playing with their hands, and telling whatever gossip you had missed in the last 2 weeks. Until you hear some noises coming from the jungle, you can see how a group of RDA men arrive, some in their robotic suits and others normal. But with weapons in their hands, Neytiri quickly rises up, taking your arm to drag you towards her. Walking away closer to the jungle behind you. Not five minutes had passed since his appearance, which is when the chaos began. The screams of desperation, the sounds of gunshots and grace's voice trying to explain, was the only thing you could hear. Neytiri and you had hidden under the stairs. You were both scared, and were waiting for help. But everything gets worse, when you feel someone grabbing you by your hair.
Lifting you off the ground with force, you scream in pain and twist in the air. You can feel Neytiri trying to hold you up, but it was useless. You see that it was some RDA soldier, indicating to take you with them. "This girl should not be here…. take her to the base" says the man. "Leave her please!!!" shouts grace, the woman was gagging on the ground. Her only hope was that you would escape with the clan, there you would be safe. You hear a scream from far away, and see how sylwanin jumps to a great height, attacking the man. "Let go of my sister!!!" shouts the girl, knocking the man down, leaving you free for her to help you. She held your hand tightly, both of you running into the jungle. When the sound of a gun is heard and everything goes silent.
Sylwanin stayed still in her place, her eyes wide open. While your gaze looked at his chest. Shot straight through the heart, your eyes met hers. Feeling her swoon over you, you try to handle her weights. "Sylwanin no…please don't. Let's go home" you cry, hugging her tightly. But you watch as that same man reaches over and grabs you by the arm again. Now with more strength, pulling you away from Sylwanin. Pulling you away from what you considered your family. You try to scream, but it was impossible to get out of his grip. You watch as neytiri tries to keep up with the group, shouting your name. "Y/N!!! NOOOO, COME BACK!!!" shouts neytiri, while you can only watch as she gets smaller the farther away you get.
present time*
Jake didn't know how to act, and what to do. He felt like he was in trouble, but at the same time he was not. You two were there just looking at each other, the looks on your faces were calm and nostalgic. There was no hate or anger…it was as if you had been waiting for this moment for years. You dared to take the first step, approaching quickly, hugging neytiri tightly. Your head resting on her lower belly. As tears began to flow from your eyes. You were afraid she would pull away and reject you. But your heart calmed down when you felt hands on your back, and felt someone slide off. Neytiri had lowered herself to your level, so she could hug you better. Wrapping her long arms around your body. "I've missed you…Y/N" neytiri says, pulling away a little. You can see how she has tears in her eyes. You wipe some of them away. "Me too" you speak, neytiri takes your hands.
Both smiling softly, while just letting time pass. Until jake makes a noise with his throat. both of you look at him and laugh. "I think I have a lot to ask," says Jake. And yes, he had a lot of questions, but you guys weren't going to let him worry. Just at that moment it had started to rain, there was a beautiful sun and a soft, cool rain. Everything looked like new changes… The three of you decided to be in a more comfortable area. Up a tree, not far from the laboratory. The three of you had sat down, while neytiri and you explained everything to jake. Even you were able to talk about the terrifying things he had experienced in the RDA all those years ago.
Time had passed, and the evening was showing. Jake can see you take a few glances at the view of the sunset. "Too bad…it's dark already," you complain, the night idicating that you had to go back to the lab. "We can meet again tomorrow, right?" asks Jake, looking at Neytiri. With very big eyes, you look at her too. This made neytiri a little nervous, having two people she cared about looking at her straight on. And waiting for her response, as if it was a law. "Well…I don't see why, besides…" neytiri pauses, moving closer to your side. "Y/N and I have a lot to talk about, how about tomorrow you go to the clan" neytiri says. You are a little surprised, but lower your face in embarrassment.
After all that had happened, they might hate you. They would still accept you?, you were afraid. "I'm not sure…I" you are interrupted, by neytiri. "I'm sure our parents would be happy to see you," says Neytiri. You swear you almost cry, hearing that they still considered you as a daughter. You agree. After a couple of minutes, Jake leaves you at the entrance of the lab. And neytiri says goodbye to you, anxious that it's already the next day. "See you later…ok" says jake, giving you a quick kiss on the crown of your head. Running back to his ikran, jake needed to drop his avatar off somewhere safe.
You watch as they walk away, if you hear a celebratory shout from neytiri. You enter the lab, with a big smile on your face. This was like a dream… you couldn't believe it.
On the other hand, Neytiri and Jake arrived at the big tree. Jake was getting down from his ikran, when he felt how neytiri hugged him, and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek of his face. "Thank you…" says the woman, jake shakes his head to the side. Laughing a little. "Why?" asks jake. Neytiri pulls away, and nudges him a little playfully. "For helping me find her," she says. Walking away from jake, to go rest. She was looking forward to the other day. She wanted to spend the whole day with you, to go back to the way she was before. And you were the same, but even more anxious, you hadn't left the connection machine, waiting for Jake to open the lid. The strange noise of the machine alarmed you, and you see how a hand lifts the machine. "H-hello" jake was just sitting up, when he feels you hug him. "Thank you!!!" you say almost shouting. " I know…she's just as excited too" jake says.
"Jake…you don't understand, this is so important to me, I'm looking forward to seeing my family" you are on the point of crying. Jake tries to calm you down. You had to, because Grace was already noticing, if not already did. She had stayed close and could hear everything. Something in her chest tightened. She felt happy but afraid at the same time, this could be dangerous for both of them. But she couldn't deny that seeing you this happy was what she wanted. Grace was like a mother to you, your happiness was also hers. She comes out from the other room, watching as you turn and get up from your chair and run to her. Jumping up and down and telling her everything that had happened. That same night, grace approached jake, still very tired jake. Touching his shoulder. "Please don't do anything stupid with those two girls…just, take care of them" says grace, pulling away from jake. She had to rest, she sensed something big was going to happen. "Don't worry, I'll take care of them," says Jake. Hearing a small laugh from grace, "Thank you" says grace, leaving jake alone in the room.
The morning came quickly, and you hadn't slept at all. Only about 2 hours, you were so anxious. You had already picked up jake, telling him to join his avatar as quickly as possible. The plan was for Jake to come get you in his ikran, and that you were all going to meet near the big tree. Jake still had a slice of bread in his mouth, when you help him into the machine. "Wait!!!" jake complains, but laughing at the same time. "Come on!!! You're taking too long!!!" you hit the buttons as fast as you can. "I'll be here in about 30 minutes, wait for me outside" jake speaks, as the door to the machine closes. You quickly, go get your oxygen mask, and a small bag you put on your hip. Grace just looked at you with a warm smile, while Norm was complaining. Saying how bad this could be. And he was partially right, this reunion could go wrong.
You come out of the lab, sitting on the same rock as the day before, waiting for Jake. You were getting anxious, because the minutes were passing and nothing. But you calm down when you hear the ikran's scream, and see him approaching. Landing nearby, only for you to approach carefully. "Come… hurry up, neytiri is super anxious" says jake, offering his hand, for you to come up with him. You get a little scared, because of the ikran. But you climb in front of him and jake wraps one of his hands around your waist. "Ready?" jake asks, noticing the big smile on your face.
The ride was scary and yet so slow at the same time. You wanted to get there already, you wanted to know how everyone was doing. What things had changed? Everything was still the same. You had so many questions. But you were interrupted by the sudden change of light when Jake started to descend, seeing a Neytiri in the distance. Greeting you and giving some jumping up and down in joy. "Y/N!!!" says neytiri, running towards the ikran, helping you down from it. " I'm glad you're home, ma y/n. Come!!!" neytiri is so excited that she almost forgets that you that you were not her own size. You stumble into a large branch, feeling jake hold you by the forearm. "Hey…watch out," says jake, watching as neytiri turns and apologizes to you, giggling. They both had big smiles on their faces, it was beautiful. They seemed genuinely happy, and something in him felt satisfied. That he had managed to get the two of them together.
The closer they got to the big tree, the more nervous you got. You could see some na'vi watching you with fear and curiosity. Some of them did not even remember your presence, you were strange to them. But they could not say anything, since neytiri had you close to her. "Are you sure they will accept me?" you ask, waiting for an answer from neytiri. "Sure…I know they will" says neytiri, she kept walking. Leading you to where her parents were. Neytiri had informed them that she had found you. Her parents' reaction was one of happiness but also concern, what if you came with bad intentions. Mo'at had to make sure that you were still… you.
You can see Mo'at and Neytiri's father. You were getting even more nervous, looking back to see jake. Making sure he was still there, if anything happened you knew Jake would protect you. The three of you arrive in front of the leaders, and you can already feel their eyes on you.
"Mother… here is Y/N" neytiri pushes you forward a little. The whole clan is around you, making you more nervous. Mo'at approaches you carefully, keeping eye contact with you. Lowering herself to your level, to be very close to you. She observes how you have changed, you are big and your appearance is not the same. Moving her hand to your chest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She breathed a few words, which you understood very well. It was a prayer to eywa, asking for wisdom and understanding of the unknown. Meanwhile neytiri was next to jake, waiting for her mother's approval, for her it was important for her mother to accept you back into the clan.
Mo'at opens her eyes, and can see that you are still looking at her with great concern. She moves her hand from your chest to the side of your skull. As a smile spreads across her face. "Oh my child…how we have missed you" says mo'at, as she wraps you in a big hug. "One of our own has returned home" shouts neytiri's father. Also happy for your return. Mo'at pulls away, leaving neytiri now to be the one to hug. "Eywa has answered me…our sister is pure of heart, as she has always been" shouts mo'at, as shouts of celebration are heard high up in the great tree. The clan was filled with joy and celebration. Jake still couldn't understand how you were part of the clan, you were supposed to go through a whole process to be part of it. But he could see how some na'vi came to greet you and welcome you. As if your presence was something normal for them.
It was decided that your arrival would be celebrated that night, after all this was a cause for celebration for the whole clan. Of course, some were still suspicious of your presence as tsu'tey, but that did not matter to you. You were so happy, you had to catch up with neytiri. And so you did, you spent the whole day together.
Neytiri forced you to change your clothes, and adjust one of hers, just for you. "Ney I think this…" you laugh, while the top didn't want to adjust. "Let me help you" neytiri laughs. Coming closer to you, and helping you. Admiring you for a moment, this seemed so unreal. Neytiri could hate all humans, but you. You and she had a different connection. She loved you and she felt you loved her back. "That's it!!! Now you do look beautiful" says neytiri, watching you try to cover yourself up. "Jake look!!!" shouts neytiri, inviting jake to join you. The poor man had stayed behind you, it seemed like he didn't exist between the two of you. "Doesn't she look beautiful?" asks neytiri. Watching as jake's ears perk up as well as his tail, from excitement. "Y-yes…pretty" says jake trying not to look at you too much. "Don't look at me!!!" you moan, it was the first time jake had seen you naked like that. Of course, neytiri didn't understand what was going on between you and just laughed.
The day went on as normal, neytiri and you continued to do your thing, while jake followed and tried to join in. You included him, but sometimes forgot about him. The night came quickly, and the celebration began. Everyone was dancing, singing, eating. And they were eating a very special game, neytiri's father himself had hunted for you. Everyone was happy, even grace and norm had joined in. Already consumed by alcohol, saying stupid things. While you were sitting on a log watching how cozy everything felt, like it used to. It finally felt like home. You watch as neytiri is dancing with jake, flirting and having a good time. You had a soft smile on your face, until neytiri makes eye contact with you. Causing you to blush a little, changing your gaze.
You hear her approach, and she plops down next to you. You knew she'd had a bit to drink, so it was all laughs for her. "Do you want to dance, with me?" neytiri speaks, silly in her movements. "I don't think so…I'm fine here" you speak, still a little shy. "If you want you can dance with jake, he would like that" neytiri says as she laughs. You look at her for a moment, you knew the tone she was talking in. "If you want we can both dance with him…share him" says neytiri, saying the last word more slowly. Waiting for a response from you, you stare at her for a moment. Bursting out laughing with her. "Well… if you insist, but first I want to dance with you" you get up from the floor and take her hand to take neytiri with you. After dancing with her, after a while Jake joined you.
After the party, Neytiri insisted that you sleep over with her. No one could stop them, they both wanted to be together all the time. And no one refused the request. So now you were both lying in neytiri's hammock, laughing and talking about anything. "Excuse me ladies…" speaks Jake, from his hammock. You both look at him at the same time. "Hope you get some rest" jake says, listening as you two also wish him goodnight, but quickly ignore him to keep talking. Jake chuckles to himself, and settles down to sleep. After all he needed to rest, soon it would be his initiation ceremony into the clan, so he had to be in perfect condition.
"When will be jake's ceremony?" you ask neytiri, she was next to you. "In the next few days, you will be there, right?" asks neytiri. You settle more on top of her, looking warmer. The nights could be cold in Pandora, colder than usual. "I'll try to be there…but I don't know" you say, shifting your gaze a little. There is a silence between the two of you, until Neytiri laughs to herself. "What do you think?" you speak. "After the ceremony…Jake will be able to choose a partner, a partner who is from the clan," says Neytiri. "Are you thinking of proposing?" you joke a little, but you see that neytiri falls down. "I thought about proposing but for both of us…" says neytiri, looking down to see you. "Both of us, us sharing Jake?" you think for a moment. You had so many doubts.
"I think we have to ask jake first" you speak, hearing neytiri laugh. " Don't worry, I'm going to make him" neytiri says joking with you. "You know… I'm glad we're back together" you hug neytiri. "Yes, I hope we will never be separated again, never again" neytiri hugs you tighter. And the idea of you and her and Jake being a couple, she was excited. She was already planning everything, she already had more or less an idea.
(I'm going to try to summarize the battle part as much as I can, because it doesn't go very much with the plot of the story)
But neytiri wished these moments had lasted longer. After jake's initiation ceremony. She kept her word, neytiri took jake to the spirit tree, declaring herself and also declaring your feelings for him. Telling him the plan that you and she had, trios were a normal thing between them. Jake didn't hesitate to accept, it was a shame that you weren't there with them to join them in eywa's eyes. Neytiri wished you would stay, but the chaos that was going on in the lab was different. The RDA had already sent their warnings, and grace was trying to calm the waters, but all to no avail. The next morning the chaos broke out, and harmony was exhausted.
After jake told the truth, and everything that was going on. There was a moment of doubt towards you, on neytiri's part. You hadn't had a chance to talk to her. To tell her that you didn't know anything about it. Jake and the team, including you, were able to escape from the RDA and do something for the Omaticaya clan. It was not after jake became toruk makto, that you were able to see neytiri.
The humans who were in favor of the na'vi, and the omaticaya had to unite to save pandora. So you were finally able to meet with her. Jake explained to Neytiri that you had nothing to do with this…you were so innocent about it. Neytiri knew that you were not capable of betraying her like that, neither her nor the clan. The fight was tough, and left many fallen in battle. But it was worth it… now they were free. At least for a while, everyone knew it wasn't over.
(end of summary <3)
After the first battle, and the humans went back to earth. That was when neytiri felt some stability again. Things were slowly calming down. She just needed something… and it was you. She needed you to accept to be in her family…she needed you to be her partner. Both hers and Jake's. But she didn't know how to do it, she was already by jake's side. But she was noticing since the humans left, you were distancing yourself from her. Keeping your distance and this did not please her. She could understand that you were analyzing everything that had happened, you had lost grace, all the chaos of the RDA. But now…now she could be a little happy.
"Today is your transfer ceremony…I will ask Y/N, do you think she will accept?" neytiri asks jake. "Didn't she already accept?" jake laughs a little. consoling neytiri. "Yes…but now it would be formal. You and I are already bonded…it would be our turn to bond with her. That makes me nervous" neytiri brings her hand to her chest, and tries to reassure herself. "Everything will be fine." jake also has his doubts. A human being paired with two na'vi, that's strange. Even for him. Sure, he wants you to accept his proposal, both he and neytiri want the same. But what will it be like, what will the others think. How this was going to work.
Jake's ceremony went perfectly. Jake left his human body, to now be a permanent part of his na'vi body. And of course, everyone was there to see this happen. You were right next to Jake's human body and Neytiri next to his avatar. "See you later" you say to Jake, watching as he smiles at you and closes his eyes. You couldn't help but feel a little sad, you had gotten used to seeing this jake, human jake. But you also knew it was the best thing for him…now he would be better off. He would have a better life. You could see jake's last sigh leave his body, and watch as all the attention turned to his avatar. Picking yourself up off the ground, and walking away a bit. You settle into a corner of the group that was helping Jake welcome his new body. You felt like you didn't belong there… you were no longer important. Or so you thought…
After a while, the ceremony was winding down, and everything began to get quieter. Less people, more privacy. Jake still felt a little strange, but it was great. Neytiri was by his side, happy but with her head busy. She was looking for you, but couldn't find you. You were supposed to be by her side, but out of nowhere you disappeared. "I don't see her…where is she?" says jake, looking around. "Y/N? I saw her walking towards the jungle, I guess she's heading to the lab" says norm and max. Jake and neytiri give each other a look, before getting up from the ground and going to look for you.
On the other hand, you were steps away from the lab. Thinking to yourself, well this was the end of it. After all, it's all calmed down. It didn't happen what you expected, but at least they are… a noise interrupts you. You hear voices calling your name. You turn to see two large silhouettes approaching. "Y/N wait!!!" says neytiri. Approaching you, you smile a little. "Why are you gone?" asks jake approaching you. Both na'vi kneel down to your level, so they can talk to you better. "Well…just, I thought it would be better if I walked away." You speak, watching as neytiri's gaze falls. "Why would you think that…we don't want you to walk away" the woman says somewhat agitated. "I…I don't want to" you start to speak, but neytiri interrupts.
"We had already talked about this…and maybe you thought it was a joke. But, what about us. I thought we were going to be a couple…the two of us, jake and…" neytiri pauses for a moment. "Were you really talking?" you ask, as your eyes widen. Jake laughs, and moves closer to you. Taking your hands, he also takes neytiri's hands. Just for the three of you to be together. "Since you are part of the clan…and I am aware that there are other couples that would be better than us, but…would you like to be our mate?" asks jake, neytiri looks at him for a moment, only to stare at you.
You didn't know what to answer. Never in a million years, you thought you would be in this position, you were well aware that you were a human, and no na'vi could find you attractive. Even when you began to have feelings for Jake, you found it hard to think that his na'vi side would find you attractive. But neytiri…like her who hated humans so much. "You don't want to be with us?" neytiri breaks the silence, you had been silent in thought for a few minutes. "It's not that…but it scares me a little" you speak. Watching as neytiri moves closer to you. "Afraid…you shouldn't be afraid of us" says neytiri. "We will never hurt you," says Jake. Joining neytiri.
"And if you start to hate me…and get tired of me" you begin to stutter a little. "Y/N…we want you to be our mate, and it's because we both love you. We want to have a family with you, please" jake speaks, now he was holding your hands tighter. You look at both of them for a moment, smiling at them and shaking your head. "Yes…I accept" you speak, neytiri comes over to hug you and pull you to her. She was so excited. She tries to find some space so she can give you a kiss, but she stopped for a moment. "How? Ahhh?" she sounded a little confused. That damn glass you had on your face, it had never bothered her as much as it did now. Jake reaches over and gives you a kiss on the hundred. "I think if you hold your breath…" jake looks at you shaking his head to the side along with his little ears.
The three of you hadn't noticed, but you're so close together, so tight. You could barely see. Norm just happened to be arriving at the lab, coming upon the scene. He sensed something was up but decided to ask. "Is something going on or what's happening?" speaks Norm, from the distance. You both look at him at the same time, separating. Neytiri and Jake get up from the ground. "It's nothing…we were just looking for Y/N, we were just leaving right?" says jake, taking neytiri's hand. "Yes, we were just leaving" neytiri speaks. You feel jake tap you on your shoulder, offering you his hand. You make eye contact for a moment with neytiri and then with jake. You were aware that as soon as you took jake's hand. Your life as a regular human was going to end.
It wasn't like living in pandora was normal, but you knew you had to leave everything you knew so far. Accepting to be neytiri and jake's mate, implied living like them, living like na'vi. And you were willing to do it, holding tightly Jake's hand. "Norm… later I'm going to get more oxygen supply" you speak, leaving a confused norm. But he was going to be okay, eventually he was going to know what was going on. Neytiri approached the other side of Jake, taking his other free hand. This was going to be a great adventure for the three of them. And she couldn't wait for it to begin.
And it didn't take long, weeks after the three of them settled into their new home. A nice hut up in the trees, perfect for a big family. Neytiri became pregnant with neteyam, this was just the beginning of your family's expansion. Soon after neteyam was born, grace's avatar body showed signs of pregnancy. And so kiri came into your family. Neteyam was a year old, and kiri was a couple of months old when your pregnancy came as a surprise to the entire clan. You were the only human who was able to become pregnant by a na'vi. Norm and Max came to the conclusion that as Jake's avatar, he had DNA in his system. There might have been a possibility. And that's how lo'ak came into your life. Your handsome prince, your precious angel. Even though all the children in the family were equal siblings and you were his parents regardless of who his mother was, you had a special attachment to lo'ak. You never thought you could get pregnant, so you cared for him a lot.
Present, location: Metcayina clan (read mama boy's "here")
You had been in the clan for a long time already, and after all the problems that had happened. Between being accepted into the clan, the problems between your children and their father and not to mention how insecure you had felt. The same doubts were beginning to consume you. The little akira was already quite big, so watching her run around the marui was your new activity. It had been 14 years since you had your last baby, so you felt like a first time mom.
"Tuk keeps insisting that she wants to make a new outfit for akira" says neytiri. She was sitting next to you, preparing the food. Her voice brought you back to reality. "Ah?" you speak, looking at neytiri, with a blank stare. "Ma y/n, is something wrong with you?" neytiri pauses, putting the knife aside. She had already spent so much with you, she could read you with her eyes closed. "No…I'm just a little tired. akira didn't sleep very well" you speak, Neytiri arranges your hair a little, she knew you weren't feeling well. "This fish is gigantic!!!" jake speaks as he enters the marui. "akira look who's here!!!" you speak, catching the little girl's attention. Who saw her father enter, and ran as fast as she could to greet him. Jake grabbed her with one hand and held her in his arms. Giving her many kisses on her cheeks. Neytiri laughs a little, and looks back at you.
After preparing the food, you had gone for a walk with tuk and the baby of the family. Leaving Neytiri and Jake alone. Neytiri thought this was the perfect time to talk to one of her partners. She was worried about you. "Do you think something is wrong with Y/N?" asks neytiri. "Well…I've seen her a little distant from us" said jake. Neytiri thinks a little, she wanted to do something to cheer you up. "How about we take a walk along the coast, she likes to do that since she came here and since akira was born, we haven't had a date" says jake. Watching neytiri get excited, she thought jake's idea was great. "Perfect, I'll tell neteyam and kiri to take care of the kids and we'll take a night for ourselves" speaks neytiri, excited.
That same night, Neteyam was left in charge of his younger siblings. Something that you doubt a little, because akira was still very small, but Neytiri manages to calm you down. She knows that you need your space and to clear your mind. The three of you leave the marui, taking the ilus to one of the nearest islands. Luckily for you, the island was lonely, and the marine life was so active.
Everything was so peaceful and calm. just what you needed, neytiri was in the water swimming while you and jake were on the sand watching her. "Hey!!! Come here" neytiri shouts, watching as you quickly get up and join her. Laughing as you feel the temperature difference in the water. Neytiri catches up to you, you quickly wrap your arms around her neck. You were both laughing, and swimming together. "Hey?" you speak, looking at neytiri. They were so close, one to the other. "I'm afraid we'll get separated…like we did before. That's why I'm like this," you speak. Neytiri just keeps silent, and comes closer to kiss you on the lips. ( Y/N is wearing "THIS" oxygen mask) "I think that after everything we have been through…nothing will separate us again" says neytiri.
"Hey…would you guys like me to join you?" jokes jake from the edge. He had already started to enter the water. Reaching out, he reached out for your hand so he could take it. Jake was big enough to be able to hold you both in the same embrace. Pulling them to his chest, he stretched up so he could kiss them both. "It's been a long time since we were like this…" jake speaks softly. Close to your ear, you were in between the two of them, both cuddling in the embrace. "Yeah…so that's how I got pregnant for the second time" you joke, hearing neytiri laugh. "well…I guess we could try again…don't you think" you feel jake's hand run up your thigh under the water, giving it a little squeeze.
"Hey…that's my thigh!!!" says neytiri, giggling. You had your legs around her waist, and were quite high up on the surface. "Here…here" you take jake's hand and guide it, feeling neytiri take your face in her hands and give you another kiss. As you feel jake's lips on your shoulder, closing your eyes.
What a fool you were, it had been so long, they had been through so much…and yet they had found each other.
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#avatar the way of water#avatar x y/n#avatar x reader#avatar x you#avatar 2022#female y/n#human reader#human y/n#neteyam imagine#neteyam#lo'ak imagine#lo'ak sully#lo'ak x reader#kiri sully#neytiri#neytiri x human reader#neytiri x y/n#neytiri x reader#neytiri x jake#neytiri x you#jake x reader#jake x neytiri#jake x y/n#jake sully x you#jake sully x neytiri#jake sully x reader#jake sully x y/n#jake x neytiri x reader#jake x neytiri x human reader#sully family
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I love your content so far from what I read and I had a crack I did just hit me
After a while the bat family finally decides to get rid of Ra al Ghul like take him down and take his position from him as the leader of the League of assassins to dismantle it
Ra al Ghul never warned anyone if they want to actually become like the main watcher over the Lazarus pits but they have to go to a 2000 door haunted house run by the ghost King who is 15 years old
So I'll be entire bat family is practically being put through spooky's haunted house 1000 doors except it's Phantom haunted house 2000 doors
Danny believes that anyone that wants the Lazarus pits is undirectly like a bad person so he kind of uses it to a trauma dump on people and be mentally tortured these people so they drop out of taking it
He's getting help from Ghost like Ember Techn, Poindexter, Wulf even cujo
Like they put Ra al Ghul through hell and now they're going to put the bat family to that because they have no idea or not if they're good people
So it's just Danny traumatizing them by making with the horrors and some of the deaths of the ghost the last shocker is at the last door they have to relive Danny's death then Danny will come out and hand them a key and then proceed to give them the whole feel about being the new owners of Lazarus pits
I just enjoy the idea of Danny and the ghost being terrifying
I don't think Danny knows enough ghosts to pull off 2000 doors but he does know Ghost Writer. As well as several ghosts who could make them relive each other's worst/most traumatic moments. Ras probably went alone when he did his trial. But if the whole batfam is going in? So much ammo.
It could start out simple. Lure them into a sense of ease.
---
"Huh. When the scary voice said we would be facing trials to prove our worth. I didn't expect sentient, cuddly blobs." Duke said petting one of the blobs that was chirping happily. Not noticing as his fellow vigilantes and friends also began to cuddle the blobs.
It takes them three hours before they realize that they've lost time and begin to fight the calming effect that the blobs exude and head towards the door on the other side of the room.
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And maybe embarrassing.
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"Once upon a time."
"WHY THE FUCK AM I WEARING TIGHTS!"
"I don't know. I think they look good."
"Shut up dickface."
---
Even a bit annoying at times.
---
"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"
"WTF! This guy is more annoying than Condiment King!"
"At least he isn't dumping ketchup on us!"
---
The first few hundred doors could even be called easy for people like the bats.
---
"Quit hitting yourself. Quit hitting yourself." Jason said after he ripped off the robot's arm and started to use it to beat the robot.
"Hay. Don't you think you're going too far Hood?"
"Stop your incelence! For I. Skulker. The greatest hunter ever. Shall be the one to skin you alive and use your pelts as a rug in my den!"
"You were saying Dickolase?"
"Give me the other arm. I want to break this pinata open."
---
But that ease does not last long. Soon they are faced with the suffering of others.
---
"What was that. What was that!" Steph shouted as she clung to Tim. Trembling from the adrenalin rush.
"I think. I think we just died? In a motorcycle crash? Did we just get hit by a CAR while on a MOTORCYCLE?!"
"That motorcycle crash was quick compared to how I died! So shut the fuck up!" Jason yelled before stomping toward the next door. And if his hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob? No, they weren't
---
And even faced with the consequences of their failures. Failures that nearly tore them apart. Failures that could still tear them apart.
---
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Shut up old man! You never asked! You weren't there! You're Never There!"
---
And temptations.
---
Dick looked around as his family piled into the living room of the manor. Everyone was laughing at something Duke said. Jason laughed the loudest as he slung his arm over Tim's shoulder for support. (Wrong, this is wrong, why is this wrong?)
---
And nightmares.
---
"Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!" Bruce screamed to the sky as he clutched his kids as close to him as he could. Falling into despair as their bodies, their corpses, grew colder. The echos of their own cries of pain and anguish ringing in his ears.
---
They still manage to fight through the physical and psychological horror. Even when they are pushed to experience torture that not even their most vial villain would do to them.
---
"I'm alive! I'm me! Mom! Dad! Please! Please!" "Shut up you freak! Honey, get the muzzle. I don't want to hear its lies anymore." The woman, the monster, in the teal hazmat suit said as she pulled out their intestine and hung it on a rack for further examination.
---
They persevered. And when they leave the last door behind? And are faced with a young boy, no older than 14, who looks like an amalgamation of all of the Robins when they were that age?
---
Danny watched as the would-be-owner of the Lazarus Pits stumbled through the door. Only for an entire group of Kevlar waring fruitloops to fall out of the door.
"So you are the fools who think to control the blood of King Lazarus. So far you have seen many facets of the horrors that can come from..." Danny started his monologue before he was interrupted by the one wearing a cloak reminiscent of a bat falling to his knees.
"Please. Please say we don't have to fight you. I can't. I can't." He said before breaking down in tears as several others joined him in his cry fest.
"Shit." Danny said as he looked at the people before him. Panicking over what he was supposed to do.
#dpxdc#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#batfamily#phycological horror#The ghosts may have gone a little overboard#Just a little bit#Hay Jazz?#Don't get mad okay?#But I think I broke them
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GymRat!Miguel Part 3
content warning: small food mentions, a little suggestive at parts so MINORS BEWARE, sexual tension?? 😗, insecure thoughts about a plus size body (may or may not be triggering for some), a few mean girls, college party, alcohol, drugs, mentions of throw up like once, a bad look for sororities (sorry, y'all are probably very wonderful people)
word count: 3.2k (NOT A DRABBLE WTF 😭) not proofread, if you see a mistake lmk
GymRat!Miguel's workout playlist is here! I had to stop myself from adding more songs because it’s already so long lol. I didn't even include any cool down songs.
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who wakes up without having to hobble to the bathroom for once. No morning wood because his dream of you was soft this time. You two were cuddled up on a couch with the world’s most fluffy blanket. He smiles to himself as he drags his feet to the bathroom. It was if dancing clouds and bubbles were floating around his head.
GymRat!Miguel who’s able to sit and chat with Ms. Beatrice longer today because his class doesn’t start until that after noon. He compliments her on the egg sandwich from the other day and she squeezes his cheeks when she thanks him as if he were a baby.
GymRat!Miguel who tinkers in the engineering building as he waits for lunch. He joined the small but mighty robotics team as soon as he found out there was one. There was a fighting robot division, and he needed to figure out the problems with his team’s robot sooner rather than later.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you at the student center having your lunch. He wastes no time to grab his food and book it to your table. He calls your name before he gets there, not wanting to startle you. You smile when you look up surprised to see him there.
"Can I join you?" he says, trying not to seem out of breath with how fast his heart is beating.
"Yeah," you say, arranging your things around. You push your computer to the side as he places his burito bowl on the table. "I'm finally getting to see you outside of lab."
In his mind, he takes a note of you being in the student center at this time. He wants to make eating with you a routine thing.
"What were you watching?" he asks, trying to curb the rush that your presence has on him. He opened up his bowl and started to mix his food, waiting patiently for your answer.
"This is a little embarrassing but," you pause to dump one of your nuggets in sauce. "I was watching someone explain the downfall of Chuck E. Cheese." Your voice gets softer as you finish your sentence, eyes avoiding his gaze.
You were so cute. And it's almost as if you've never met him, the ultimate nerd.
"Nothing wrong with wanting to know why more and more locations went from five animatronics to one. Or how they started to sell their pizzas under ghost kitchens," he says, taking a bite from his bowl.
You looked at him and your smile grew. Miguel could only think 'there she is. there's my girl.'
The two of you chatted about everything from malfunctioning Chuck E's to your classes to your food. Miguel was through the roof.
GymRat!Miguel who offers to carry your art portfolio case for you to the art building. Anything to extend your time together. Plus, why should you have to hold it when he's here? He holds the doors for you and presses the elevator buttons before you can even think to.
GymRat!Miguel who really loves when the elevator door closes and he can look down at as you talk away. Just for those few seconds, the outside world is quiet and it's just you two. In another world, he'd kiss you before the doors open. In another world, he'd tilt your head up and have you look at him when you speak, he wanted to read your eyes too.
You're staring at him expectantly, eyes reminding him of baby deers. He tilts his head at you, wondering why you're staring at him.
"Miguel the door is open. We have to leave before it closes," you say.
He's instantly broke back to reality.
"Right! Sorry," he says, heat rising on the back of his neck. He steps out and holds his hand in front of the opening so that the door doesn't close you.
"Thank you," you say, a giggle under your breath.
Miguel has done some pretty embarrassing things when it comes to you, but he didn't think it would bleed into when he was actually in front of you.
In this world, he needed to not give you the creeps. Get it together.
GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that you still want to come work out with him. You all plan to meet that Friday. You don't know what you want to work out, but you say you're excited. Miguel has tonight, Wednesday, and Thursday to plan the perfect workout for you.
Should he go buy a bottle so he can make you a smoothie? Or should he offer to buy you a smoothie afterwards? Do you even like smoothies? Maybe he should invite you to breakfast. Would you want to eat right after you worked out? You needed to eat to make sure you can speed up the healing process though....
GymRat!Miguel who waves you goodbye when it's almost time for your studio class to start, mind filled with so many questions.
Your friend turns to you immediately when Miguel is gone.
"And who was that?" she says, eyes shocked.
"He's a guy from my lab. His name is Miguel," you say, grinning in your hands. You felt like kicking your feet in the air, but alas, no time.
"He's super hot. Like, seriously," your friend says, moving her taboret next to her workspace. "I would hit it. Constantly."
"Please stop talking," you say, laughing along. "I'm not even sure if he goes for girls like me. I'd rather not get my hopes up." You wanted to keep yourself in reality and falling for Miguel might put you too close to the land of delusion. You figured that Miguel was just super nice, especially after you two worked so hard for that lab project.
Your friend stops and looks at you, she slams the liquin tin on the table and puts her hand on her hip.
"First of all, those "types of guys" love big girls, so don't give me that. Second of all, are you not seeing how he looks at you. He's giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, like, ever." She picks the liquin tin back up and starts scooping aggressively at the sides. "You gotta be more confident! You're gorgeous, anyone with a functioning brain can see that."
You stand there stunned, shocked at your friend's outburst. "I am confident!" Partially true. "I just...don't want to be hurt."
"I understand that, but have you even asked if he likes you or not?"
You shake your head no.
"Exactly. The night is still young," your friend says, pointing her palette knife at you. "And if you don't go for it, I will."
"Oh my god, shut up," you say, throwing a crumbled shop towel at her. You still kept her words in the back of your mind, storing it for later.
GymRat!Miguel who paces in front of the campus gym, waiting for your arrival. He got up extra early and gave himself a pep talk in the mirror. It wasn't a date, per se, but he felt that it could lead to one if he played his cards right. He decided to just invite you out to eat, figuring you would bring your stickered-water bottle.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you before you even call his name. He waves, smile taking over his features. You wave back, and it isn't until you're ten steps away that he finally takes in your full outfit. Another two-piece that was going to be the death of him, the only thing was that this was in the flesh. He cursed under his breath before you got closer, brain short-circuiting at the fabric hugging your skin.
"Ready to go?" he asks, forcing himself to not look at your body and to look at your face.
"Yeah! I'm a little nervous but I'm ready to work," you say, following him to the door.
He opens the doors for you, "Nothing to be nervous about. You're in good hands."
He brings you to his locker so you can put your bag in there, not wanting anyone to snag your belongings.
You guys start at the track, walking a lap as a warm up. Usually Miguel would do a lap or two of jogging, and as much as he wanted to watch you bounce, especially on him, this was a beginner workout. He didn't want to scare you with how intense he can get. While walking, you guys chatted about little things. Miguel tells you how wasn't nearly this big four years ago, ensuring you that the path to get here can be hard. You tell him that you just want be healthy, not caring if you lost weight or gained muscle. Miguel was secretly happy to hear this because he liked your body the way it was, but he would roll with whatever you were feeling.
GymRat!Miguel who helps you stretch. You both sit on the floor and face each other with your feet touching. Miguel saw how much smaller your feet were compared to his and his heart fluttered. His mind was filled with a million voices rambling off new things about you.
"She's focusing so hard"
"How can a gym outfit be so hot"
"She's so close to me when we do this stretch"
"Her hands are so warm"
"Maybe I should have stretched her from behind too"
That last thought gets Miguel to move you guys to the next part of the routine. How is his head always in the gutter?
GymRat!Miguel who starts you off with dumbbells, giving you the 5 lb weights to start. He starts you off with a few shoulder and arm exercises, giving you tips and praise along the way. His touches linger on your arms as he corrects your form, watching your body intensely. His constant "good"s, "one more''s, and "uh huh"s hit you right in your core. You're thankful that you're out of breath and heated from the workout, otherwise you would have melted before him.
GymRat!Miguel who pulls out all of the stops, using the heavier weights for his sets. He screams on the inside when you cheer him on. You clap at the end of one of his harder sets, happy that he pushed himself. He bows in silly way, sweat dripping down his face and laughing at your actions.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you while you use a heavier weight to do squats. You wanted to go for the 15 lb weight even though it was your first time doing weighted squats. He didn't want you to fall over, so he stood behind you and held his hands in the air by your waist as you went down. He knew that he was supposed to be focused, but he couldn't help but to glance at your ass a few times. God.
GymRat!Miguel who ends off your workout with the bikes, you guys making it a small competition. He stands and cycles, watching as your jaw dropped. You started to stand but got a little scared and gave up quick. Miguel couldn't have that. He stopped moving and got up to be by your side.
"You got it! Don't be scared," he says, watching you work.
"I literally can't do that," you say, cycling a little faster.
"Sure you can! Try it, I'm right here," he says, encouraging you.
You fight your fear and stand up and cycle. "Oh my god," you say, breaths coming out hard.
"That's it, that's it," Miguel says, voice warm as he praises you. "You're doing so good. Keep going."
You push until you can't anymore, Miguel cheering at your side.
GymRat!Miguel who guides you to the showers after your workout. It sucks that he can't be in there with you. His imagination can only get him so far.
GymRat!Miguel who waits for you to come out of the bathroom, ready to ask you to go for smoothies and breakfast. He hopes you say yes.
GymRat!Miguel who is in awe again at how you look. How many two-piece sets did you have? How does he survive them every single time? He mutters up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go get smoothies, adding on that he would pay. You glow and say yes, stating that you love smoothies. He's soaring.
GymRat!Miguel who brings your food to the table, two wraps and two smoothies. A protein shake for him and a fruit smoothie for you.
"That was a really good workout today. You definitely put me to work," you say, unwrapping the straw to stab it through the top. You hum at the flavor as you take a sip.
"Good?" Miguel asks, and you nod your head with your thumb up. "I'm glad you liked the workout. I was excited to have a partner."
"A partner? Why didn't you invite us to join?"
You both look up to see a few girls standing by the checkout counter. Miguel notices them as the sorority girls from his literature class. They walk over to your table, eyes twinkling as they take in Miguel.
Miguel chuckles awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He didn't think he had to deal with them outside of class too.
One of the girls look at you and goes, "Oo are you a personal trainer?"
You're taken aback, eyes scanning between the girls. You're about to open your mouth to respond but Miguel gets to them first.
"No, we're workout partners," he says, snapping at the girl. "And we're kind of having a conversation right now so is there anything else that you guys want to say?"
The girl cowers a bit at Miguel's words, laughing as if he told a joke and twirling her hair. The leader of the pack turns to Miguel, "Sorry about that. We wanted to see if you could come to our party tomorrow night. It'll be super fun and we would love to see you there."
A party? Miguel hadn't gone to one since he moved on campus. He always wanted to experience a college one. He turned to you and saw that you just tapped at your phone, not looking to the girls.
"I'll go if I can bring her," Miguel says, tapping his foot against yours. You look up, shock in your eyes,
Some of the girls slump, and the leader tightens her smile, "Fine! That's cool. I'll send you the details later."
The girls walk off and you stare at them, eyes squinting.
"They're an interesting bunch aren't they?" you say, continuing to eat your wrap.
"Right?" Miguel says, turning back to you.
GymRat!Miguel who comes to your dorm, ready to walk you to the party. He knocks on your door, a little nervous. He had on a nice top, the top open a little bit and a thin chain around his neck. After a while, you opened the door and gobsmacked him again with your outfit.
"Wow," he says, standing in the door like an idiot.
"Is it bad?" you ask, body glowing.
"No, you look amazing," Miguel says. "Ready to go?" He holds his arm out, softly smiling at you.
You nod and intertwine your arm through his.
GymRat!Miguel who takes in the atmosphere, frat guys yelling by a pool table, a few girls dancing with red solo cups, some people making out on the couch.
For Miguel, it was a lot.
He turned to you, yelling to ask if you wanted a drink. You say yes and you both make your way to the kitchen.
There, you both are met with the sorority girls crowding the kitchen. Some of them are passing some pills around and others are chatting by the island. One of them looks up and sees you guys lingering by the entrance.
"Miguel! You made it! Come on have a drink," she pulls him closer in the room. "Want a xannie?"
"I'm good," he says, handing you a cup of Pink Whitney. You take a sip and turn your nose a little bit. You might have to suck it up to get through the night.
"I'm so glad you made it. I have something that I've been meaning to show you," she says, batting her eyes. She convinces him to follow her up the stairs.
Miguel yells over his shoulder that he'll be right back.
You stand in the kitchen, fingers tapping against your cup. You felt a little silly and out of place. You didn't know anyone else here and the people were cliquey.
You joined a few games of beer pong, trying to enjoy yourself, but you couldn't help but to think about Miguel.
You dance a little, joining some random girls in the middle of the room. The music is ok, but you were just trying to have a good time. After an hour or so, you get nervous. Miguel hasn't been back in a while.
You head back to the kitchen, thinking maybe he could be in there.
"If you're looking for Miguel, he's probably deep in a bed right now," one girl giggles as she comes up beside you, grabbing another drink.
"What?" you say, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yeah girl, why else would he be gone so long? I tried to go up there and the doors were locked. Just text him tomorrow."
Your hand grips your cup tighter, watching as the girl goes back into the thick of the crowd.
You decide to wait a little longer, scrolling on the same three apps back to back for another hour. You look at the time again and the 3 am stares back at you mockingly.
You figure that he's really not coming back down and open your Instagram to give him a text.
“Hey Miguel! I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my dorm. It's getting pretty late."
You walk back to your dorm, arms wrapped around yourself to brace from the cold.
GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to a bathroom that's not occupied with some one hovering over the toilet. He feels out of it. Throwing back a few too many shots. He was trying to get back downstairs but there was always someone there to pull him back, offering something.
A shot? Sure.
A pill? No.
A game? Maybe.
The girl who brought him up there tried her best to get in his pants, but if he was being honest, he didn't even remember her name. Or any of the names of the girls that came in afterwards. He declined every one of them, just wanting to get some air.
He was able to check his phone.
3:35 am.
He sees your message and feels sick. He runs downstairs and out the door, the cool air sobering him up a bit.
"Fuck," he says hands to his head. He squats and texts you back.
"I am so sorry. I got caught up. Did you make it back safely?"
It was so late, there was no way you would respond. He fucked up.
He texted Gabriel, maybe his drunk mind pushing him to seek help from his little brother.
"So if I invite a girl to a party and leave her what are the chances that she will text me back? :((("
"Dude. It's almost 4am. And where is this so-called game that you have? Ik you're not asking me about anything"
"Gabri :(((("
"I'll be honest, she's probably blocking your number. IF she even has it lol"
Yeah. He fucked up.
dividers by: @yeribbon 🩵
a/n: Miguel's gym playlist is such a jarring difference from my own gym playlist. 😭 I left you guys with an extra long addition today because I have soooo much hw that's piling up and it's tearing me apart.
As always, leave a like and reblog. Leave comments please. 🥺 I want to see your reactions! Let me know how you feel. 🩵
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe
#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x plussize!reader#miguel o’hara x chubby!reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#plus size reader#chubby reader#spiderman 2099 au#spiderman 2099 x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara au#miguel o'hara x chubby reader
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You might have gotten this question before- if so I’m sorry- but I just want to know how you do it!!
Every chapter you write is of such high quality, and so long too! There’s so many intricate bits and pieces working together! I’m re-reading GITM from the start again, and with knowledge from later chapters it just- gah! It plays into itself so so well!!
How do you stick with it?? How do you keep putting out banger after banger without slowing down? I’ve always had a hard time with sticking to projects and lengthier things, so to see GITM is like utter magic to me /pos
Hope you have a wonderful day!
Ahhh thankyou so much!
Honestly? It's cause I have the entire story planned out. What you see in GITM at the moment is the very tip of a very large iceberg and oh my GOD I want to get to the meat of the story so bad. I want to share Sol's backstory, I want Ruin to wake up and immediately announce Cricket is his best friend! I want you to meet Sombra, I want to introduce Harvest, I want to show Cricket coming into their own, I want to get to them confronting Harry (for better or worse). I want them to remember Clip! I want to write the scene where they finally recall all their memories of him- I want to write that embrace with my whole fucking soul. I want to write Sol realising that he has the capacity for feelings. I want to write Fool discovering that he is The Main Character, actually. I want to break everyone's hearts with Noon's backstory. With Security's backstory. I want to make people HATE certain characters and then learn to love them as Cricket decides to drag those characters kicking and screaming into the light. I want the robots to realise their human friend never had a childhood. I want them to try and make up for lost time. I want Misuta to realise the difference between the love that exists in books and the kind of love you have to choose in real life. I want Sunspot to let himself fucking HEAL. I want I want I want. I want to smooch the robots, so bad. But to do all of that I have to write the fucking fic so.... I best get off tumblr and back on google docs.
Let me be clear: this is pure magnum opus hyperfixation. I cannot get off this train. I need to tell this story or I might die.
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David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:
"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."
"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"
"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."
"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."
""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"
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Hope Mikaelson with a fem!reader that is the last siren alive and have hydrokinesis
splash
Flufftober, October 9th
Female siren reader x Hope Mikaelson
Warnings: none
A/n: For anyone who may or may not know what hydrokinesis is, as I did, it's the power of water manipulation and controlling it.
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As you sit on a rock by the falls, you create a spiral of water and make it float in the air. You need some time away from the school.
Everyone found out about you being a siren, thankfully nothing about your hydrokinesis, but it really sucked. Especially since Alaric is quite literally making it his personal mission to make your life a living hell over the past week since it was revealed. Apparently for 'lying' about your specie type even though he never asked you and just assumed you were a witch.
He obviously didn't think there were any sirens left alive after Sybil and Selene. Which he definitely didn't appreciate you bringing that up when he went off at you, yelling about how you were a 'disgrace'.
The only person you told about yourself was Hope, your girlfriend. She'd been away in New Orleans with her family when it happened and she's still there.
At least that's what you thought until you heard the sounds of footsteps, someone's walking up behind you. You turn around, letting the water water back into the river from the air.
You let out a sigh of relief when you see it's Hope. You jump down from the rock and walk into her open arms. She wraps her arms around you tightly as you cling to her. You bask in her warmth. Finally someone who's not staring at you as if you were missing your head.
You breathe in her scent of floral perfume and tropical shampoo. "I missed you" You mumble into her neck. "I missed you too." She squeezes you before pulling away slowly.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when it all happened" She holds your hands in her own. Josie filled her in on what happened when she got back to the school this morning.
She was shocked you hadn't phoned or texted her about it. Honestly, she does get why you hadn't, it must've been really overwhelming and you didn't want to bother her. She's been trying to slowly get you to open up to her, it's a working progress.
She had been searching the entire school for you until she realized where you'd obviously be. Your favorite place in Mystic Falls, the falls. You took her there on your guys' date when you told her about your powers and about being a siren.
"It's alright, I didn't I want to bother you. You don't get much time with your family" You muster up a soft smile. "Well, it isn't everyday your girlfriend's secret is exposed. At least half exposed." She tells you.
"Who told you?" You sigh, you really didn't want Hope to feel sorry for you. "Josie did. And I don't want you to think I'm just doing this because I feel sorry for you" She tells you.
You snap your eyes back up from gazing at her hair, "How'd you, what, can you read minds?" You try not to stutter.
"You have that look in your eyes" Hope tells you and brings your right hand up, placing a kiss to it. You tilt your head in a questioning way. "What?" Her eyebrows furrow.
"I'm trying to figure out if you're a robot or not" You tell her with no joke in your voice. "Ahuh, very funny" Hope chuckles before leading you over to the water.
"How are you, really?" She links her arm with yours. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts while watching the water fall.
"I'm not saying I'm okay, but it will be. I know it will be. I just need to wait for everything to die down at the school." You explain softly to her as birds chirp in the background.
"Thank you for being honest with me" She rests her head against your shoulder. "Of course. You know I don't try to lie to you, right?" You ask her in a quiet voice, almost whisper.
"Yes, I do, Babe. I know you don't" She holds onto your arm. "Good. So you'll forgive me this then" A mischief glint appears in your eyes, not that your girlfriend can see.
"What are you talking about- hey!" She exclaims when you pick her up and then run into the river, splashing both of you into the cold water. "Oh, I am so gonna kill you!" She splashes water towards you after you drop her in front of you (safely, don't worry).
"You're gonna have to catch me first" You smirk and dive into the water, swimming deeper into the river. "You're on" She chuckles and swims after you.
She shreds the water out of her way as she tries keeping up with you. Though, she realizes it's basically useless. You slow your pace down and stop, turning around to take pity on your tribrid girlfriend.
"You okay, Baby?" You stifle your chuckle at your panting girlfriend as she slowly crawls her way over to you.
"Okay, no fair, you're basically a mermaid" She pants, wrapping her arms around your neck, and legs around your torso to hold herself up in the water.
"And I just realized how out of shape I am" She lets out a massive puff of breath. "Oh, please, if you're out of shape, then I'm a pirate" you raise an eyebrow, making her laugh.
She then takes in your appearance, your eyes look so beautiful and your wet hair makes you look gorgeous with how it falls down by your face.
Before she knows it, she leans in and passionately kisses you. You wrap your arms around her waist as your kiss your girlfriend back. She whines when you pull away. "Why?" She pouts to you.
"I'm sorry, Baby, it's getting late, we should probably be heading back to the circus ring" you tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.
She looks down at your guys' clothing, she then pauses. "We're soaking wet" She states. "Yes we are" a smile quirks at your lips.
"We're soaking wet in our clothing." She tells you, her eyes widened. "It's alright, I promise you we can snuggle all night" You promise as you start to walk out of the body of water.
You carry her all the way out of the water to the giant rock you we're resting upon earlier. "I'm gonna hold you to it" She mumbles as she's set down back on the ground.
"I don't doubt it" You wrap an arm around her shoulder.
When you notice Hope shivering, you raise your hand and all the water raises from both your bodies, hair, and clothing. And then swish them back into the river.
"There, a little bit warmer" You kiss her cheek.
#hope mikaelson#hope mikaelson x reader#hope mikaelson x siren reader#hope mikaelson x female siren reader#hope mikaelson x female reader#hope mikaelson x fem reader#cute hope mikaelson#hope marshall#josie saltzman#hydrokinesis#cute#swimming#imagines#fluff#thevampirediaries#writing#fanfic#theoriginals#legacies
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Minor Differences | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.9k, PG-13
@poolvertober: Day 20 – Pop Culture
Summary: Five times Logan learns something new about the timeline he's in (and one time it was for the better). Inspired by this post by @nichknack. Rated for language. Takes place some time after the movie's events; just assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. More gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Read on Ao3
A/N: Once again, I'm taking today's prompt fast and loose so forgive me in advance 😅🙏 Un-beta'd but quite frankly it's a miracle I even finished on time lmao. Can you believe this was originally supposed to be ~600 words? (ノ_<、)
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The first time Logan notices that his new timeline isn’t identical to his old one, it’s over a subtle name change.
He’s reading the Saturday paper in the living room, Wade watching some reality show on the seat next to him with Mary Puppins in his lap, when Althea leaves her room and shuffles into the kitchen.
“Alexa,” she calls out, “what time is it?”
A robotic voice replies, “The time is 5:43pm.”
Logan drops the newspaper from obscuring his face. He immediately finds the source of the reply on the coffee table: a grey, cylindrical device that looks like a mini speaker, control buttons on its side. It blinks a turquoise light around the rim until the light turns off with a muted beep at the extended silence.
“What the fuck?” he wonders out loud, surprised to see such a familiar gadget.
“Have you not interacted with an Echo before, peanut?” Wade asks. “Did you not have Bezos’ army of listening devices where you’re from?”
Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”
“Because I don’t trust it!”
“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”
“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”
“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.
“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”
“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”
“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”
“Alexa, shut up.”
The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.
“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”
“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”
“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.
(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)
Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”
Their attention quickly shifts from there.
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The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.
He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.
“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.
He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.
“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”
“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”
Wade nods once.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”
They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.
“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”
He and Wade finally both look at their hands.
Fuck.
“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.
Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.
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Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.
He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.
At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”
Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.
He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?
(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)
Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.
“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”
Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.
“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”
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He finally catches on by the following incident.
A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.
Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.
“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.
Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”
“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”
“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”
“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”
Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”
“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”
“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”
“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”
“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”
“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”
His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”
Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.
“You are! My fiiiire—”
Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.
The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.
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Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.
He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.
Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.
“Mornin’, peanut.”
“Hrm.”
“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”
Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.
“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.
“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.
As always, he pours the milk first.
“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”
“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”
Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”
At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.
Now that’s fucking cursed.
Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.
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&1
Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.
He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.
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(More notes on Ao3.)
#poolvertober#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#dp&w#deadpool#wolverine#poolverine#peanutbub#deadclaws#wolverpool#wade wilson#logan howlett#blind al#jercy attempts words#fanfic#.JUST TAKE THIS!!! I'M TIRED!!
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Crazier • Pt. 2
wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)
pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)
warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school
read part 1 here
The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way.
"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero.
His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."
"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder.
"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.
So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you.
"Can I ask why you're crying?"
"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used.
You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass."
"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him.
"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did.
"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"
You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."
You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?"
You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well.
"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly.
"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time.
"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."
"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again.
He decided he'd take what he could get.
You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more.
"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside.
Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too.
When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open.
You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea.
Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid.
While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge.
"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes.
"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot."
He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."
You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day.
"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that.
"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged.
"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"
You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."
His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things.
"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling.
"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay."
"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."
So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip.
He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.
Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side.
He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"
You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."
That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him.
"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle.
You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"
He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?
"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?"
"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything.
"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be.
You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.
"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything, just in case.'
"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."
You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."
Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so.
"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was.
You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on."
But deep down, neither of you believed that.
You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.
It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost.
Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood.
You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you.
"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical.
"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage.
"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that.
"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade.
"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment.
It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.
Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall.
"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious.
You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."
She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"
"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued.
"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little.
"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways.
She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him.
The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard).
Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.
There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could.
You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream.
"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant.
She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.
You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know.
"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,
"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."
MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.
"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist.
As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels.
You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet.
"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it.
"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly.
"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce.
"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did.
"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice.
"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely.
"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.
"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered.
MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."
you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was.
"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes.
It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them.
So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was.
"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement.
They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone.
"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true.
"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal.
"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree.
"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested.
"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered.
Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud.
Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again.
As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun.
"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention.
he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped.
"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over.
you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two.
"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her.
"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question.
"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh.
The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"
"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing.
"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N."
You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."
"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."
"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped.
You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated.
She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes."
You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door.
"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder.
"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again.
"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,
"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring.
He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors.
"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."
"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you.
"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you.
"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement.
"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper.
You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"
The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question.
You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment.
The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists.
You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in.
You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed.
"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it.
You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you."
He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close.
You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit.
Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"
Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you.
"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin.
"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious.
"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this.
"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns.
You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing.
"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed.
You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."
She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."
You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry.
You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls.
You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"
Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."
"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh.
"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile.
You were dead set on doing everything on this list
A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick.
You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this.
You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"
She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered.
"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks.
"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far.
"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."
You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."
"We have to steal the principal's desk chair."
"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head.
"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why.
Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."
Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you.
the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."
"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered.
"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."
You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed.
You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you.
"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal.
"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask.
"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."
Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him.
You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her.
"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."
"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion.
You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about.
Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."
Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter.
Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled.
You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.
You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter.
"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide.
"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?"
She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves.
The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up.
They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces.
"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time.
You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked.
They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other.
"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"
The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement.
Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."
Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"
"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.
"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips.
"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."
"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left.
Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"
Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."
You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"
"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod.
You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,
"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."
Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."
Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"
they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind.
You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said.
"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad
"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.
You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."
You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."
"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."
You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"
he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked.
You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."
He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"
You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side.
You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building.
As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.
read part 3 here !!
#peter parker#writing#tom holland#marvel#fanfic#peter parker fic#peter parker x you#peter parker fluff#peter x you#peter parker imagines#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker writing#avengers#the avengers#avengers x reader#tom holland!peter parker x reader#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter parker x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#fanfiction#angst
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pretty boy
ethan landry x reader
warnings: a little bit of plot, smut obv, fingering, blowjob, “nipple play” like barely, and ethan’s a lowkey sub
notes: i watched scream 6 yesterday and i had to like this man is just so fine. also this takes place at the party so technically he isn’t ghostface just yet so we’ll leave it at that. just a normal college boy :)
if you like this lmk what other stuff you’d want to read for ethan, in need of prompts!!!
pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6
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it was halloweekend and you and your friends came to a frat party. you and tara had dressed as pirates just grabbing stuff that was left around. the party was going pretty well, well until you took a long swig of a bottle of pink whitney and ran upstairs after seeing your ex hooking up with this girl that was “just a friend”, what a load of bullshit. you went into the nearest unlocked room, closing the door behind you and locking it.
“fuck me,” you muttered to yourself, “fuck me in the fucking ass.”
you turned around to go sit down on the bed and there sat ethan, well a rather red faced ethan after your remark, just looking at you. ethan was a part of your friend group, the cute dorky guy. his cardboard robot costume was littered on the floor, leaving him in his joggers and a shirt. you were surprised he wasn’t somewhere with chad getting a pep talk to finally talk to a girl.
“hey,” he greeted giving you a small wave as if you two weren’t the only people in the room.
“god were you gonna say anything sooner I didn’t know anyone was in here,” you answered as you walked over and sat in front of him while his back was against the headboard.
“oh sorry, my bad.”
“nah it’s fine, worse shit has happened to me tonight that’s for sure.”
“like what,” he inquired.
“well for starters my ex is fucking the bitch that he said he was “just friends” with during our whole relationship so,” you responded hurriedly and angrily.
“oh i’m so sorry, that’s messed up.”
“yes it is, welcome to my life pretty boy”
you hadn’t meant to say the nickname out loud but that long drink was starting to hit you and you couldn’t care less at the moment. ethan blushed at your comment, looking down unable to meet you eye.
“hey,” you told him, “look at me.”
you grabbed both sides of his face with your hands and giggled, “such a pretty boy with pretty lips.”
at this point ethan was bright red and speechless, just muttering words trying to form a sentence, “l-l-l-look i think you’re drunk.”
“i’m fine, anyways i have a question.”
“ok,” he gulped, “what’s up.”
with your answer you pulled his head closer to you own, lining your lips up right next to his ear, “do you think it’s fair that my ex gets to fuck someone tonight and i don’t?”
as you finished your sentence you could feel ethan’s breath hitch in his throat, it made you smile. you moved his head back in front of you so you were face to face once again.
“is it?,” you reiterated
ethan quickly shook his head no, unable to speak. with your hands still on his neck you moved his head closer to you once again but this time your lips were only an inch away.
“i couldn’t hear you pretty boy, i said do you think it’s fair that i don’t get fucked tonight.”
“n-no,” he answered quickly.
“great, glad to know we’re on the same page,” you said quickly as you brought his lips to yours and kissed him.
you could tell he was shocked by the suddenness of the kiss because his lips were kind of stiff but moments later they melted into the kiss. you led the kiss, poking your tongue past his lips to entangle his tongue with your own, and with this you could hear his moans. it was music to your ears. without breaking the kiss you moved to straddle his waist, as his hands fell to your own, lowering yourself on his clothed length that was hardening by the second. this pressure caused him to let out a grunt into the kiss as he bucked his hips, hitting your center. you tangled your hands with the curly hair at the nape of his neck, yanking it back towards the headboard, separating the kiss so you were looking in each other’s eyes. both of you were breathing heavily, ethan’s lips all pink and swollen from your kissing, fuck he was so hot. breathless he looked up at you while you took off your vest to reveal yourself in a white shirt that you’d spilled on earlier at the party. with no bra on your nipples were exposed through the fabric and you think ethan may have died right then and there.
he began to move his hands from your waist up the sides of your body until they rested right next to your tits. he looked at you as he slowly took one hand to grope one of them. you bit your lip at this feeling, as his hands were both rough and soft as he kneaded your tit. watching you still he swiped his thumb across your clothed nipple earning a lustful reaction. you moaned and muttered curses under your breath, with you head rolling back. he took this as encouragement to continue. he resumed with both hands massaging and kneading your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples now and then. all this made your core ache as you felt the wetness pooling between your legs, you rolled your hips against ethan’s dick chasing some sort of friction. you took your top off and laid your tits bare to him. and he took this opportunity to latch his lips to one of your nipples, nibbling and swirling his tongue around it while still playing with the other. your body jolted at this sudden rush of pleasure, you couldn’t keep quiet,
“oh fuck ethan,” you moaned as he licked you nipple.
breaking his contact with your tit you bring his face to yours once again and resume the kiss, the rhythm much faster and fervent this time. your lips molded together perfectly with the occasional moan into the kiss as ethan still played with your nipples. you reached under his shirt, looking for bare skin to touch and you felt the ridges of his abs fuck you forgot how ripped he was. you broke the kiss to pull his shirt off his head needing to see his bare chest. after it was off he leaned forward to reconnect your lips but you pushed him back,
“my turn.”
and you leaned forward placing kisses on his neck as he moaned in response. you sucked on special spots, sure to leave a mark that’d show later. it was so hot hearing him moan under your touch, he bucked his hips as you kissed under his ear in hopes of some sort of friction. as you continued to kiss all over his body your hand trailed to the waistband of his sweatpants, tracing his v-line into the article of clothing. you palmed his clothed length feeling him jolt underneath your touch,
“oh oh my god,” he breathlessly moaned unable to come up with any other words.
suddenly you felt his hand creep under your skirt and onto your own bundle of nerves, massaging the mound through your panties.
“oh ethan,” you moaned
wanting to touch more of him you reached your hand into his joggers until his own grabbed your wrist and stopped you. confused you looked up at him tilting your head slightly.
“umm,” he muttered quietly, “i-i wanna do you first.”
with his hand still on your heat he began to rub over your clothed center once again. you hummed in agreement as his fingers sent shocks through your body. you soon reconnected the kiss, wanting to feel him on your lips as he played with your pussy. you felt him drag your panties to the side, exposing your bare cunt directly to his fingers. this new feeling caused you to jolt up but you felt his other hand on your waist holding you down. he swiped his finger through your arousal and around your entrance until he dipped his middle finger into the hole, burying it deep inside you. you loudly gasped, pulling away from the kiss as you jolted up a bit.
“oh my god, did that hurt, i’m so sorry, shouldn’t have done that,” ethan rambled
he began to remove his hand from your cunt until you stopped him.
“don’t fucking move.”
you pushed yourself back down onto his finger, moaning the entire way down. he watched as you squirmed on top of his hand until he was fully inside you again.
“pretty boy please move your finger,” you teased.
ethan quickly snapped out of his daze and began to finger you slowly, curling his finger so he was pressing on the bundle of nerves that had built up over this time.
“another…” you spoke breathlessly, “another finger.”
he obliged sliding his ring finger into you, the new pressure began to spur you towards the edge but there’s something you still needed.
practically fucking yourself on his fingers you whined, “faster ethan, you need to go faster. you’re not gonna hurt me.”
and that simple ask was all it took for him to rapidly increase his pace. he immediately started to pound his fingers into you, curling them repeatedly to hit your spot.
you cried out, “fuck oh my- i’m gonna cum,” and this only spurred him on as he captured one of your tits in his mouth and violently sucked on your nipple.
and suddenly you froze, your pussy clenched around ethan’s fingers and your legs felt weak as your orgasm ripped through you. your head fell onto his chest out of exhaustion, and his fingers were still inside you through your high as you clenched violently around them. you kissed him softly, a bit tired after your insane orgasm. slowly you pulled his hand out from under you, gasping at the loss of his fingers inside of you. you placed his middle and ring finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around them, cleaning them of your arousal. he looked at you, mouth wrapped around his fingers and felt a twitch in his pants. he breathed heavily as you pulled yourself off of his fingers and he pulled you in for a kiss, tasting you on your own tongue. as you made out you moved your hand once again to palm his clothed dick but wasted no time reaching into his pants. you felt his bare length, veins bulging as you felt his tip was already leaking insane amounts of precum. he shuddered viciously into the kiss under your touch.
“you’re big pretty boy,” you whispered into his ear as you swiped your finger over his slit that was leaking precum.
“oh my god,” he started as you began to move your hand up and down his shaft slowly. he roughly groaned, shifting on the bed as you began to speed up. you watched him intently with his eyes screwed shut and heavy breathing. you spit down between the two of you, onto his cock so your hand would glide better on his skin. this unfamiliar feeling caused ethan to buck his hips, fucking himself into your hand.
“oh fuck i’m gonna- oh my god,” he groaned as he finished in your hand, eyes screwed shut and his dick twitching as he shot out loads of cum onto your stomach. you kept pumping him through his orgasm until he was whimpering and letting out a string of profanities under his breath.
he didn’t even know how hot he was, sitting there violently moaning as he came all over you, god you needed him. as he opened his eyes, you grabbed his face and placed a couple pecks to his lips.
“you’re cute when you cum pretty boy,” you said to him, making him turn red immediately.
you pulled him closer to you and kissed him thoroughly once again until you both heard a violent knock on the door, causing you both to jump.
“ethan are you in there, it’s chad we gotta go, her ex pissed her off and we can’t find her,” spoke the voice.
ethan looked at you and responded still out of breath, “ok yea i’ll be out in a second, just gimme a minute.”
“alright,” chad responded.
as his footsteps faded away before getting off ethan’s lap you whispered to him, “you owe me a fuck.”
#ethan landry smut#scream 6#scream#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ghostface#smut#scream fanfic#sub!ethan#no plot whatsoever
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the breakup soup [preview].
SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.
PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, mild angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, there is only one bed trope will be sprinkled in there somewhere. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, sex jokes, will add more as i move forward. WORD COUNT. preview: 2.8k | full fic: est. 15k.
RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.
NOTE. had a bathroom thought. wondered "wouldn't it be funny if a couple breaks up during an org meeting" and it has led me to this dumpster fire. i think it's funny. i hope you think it's funny. i understand that there might be some unfamiliar org jargon here and there, so please feel free to ask me for clarifications if some things are unclear so i can fix them in the final fic!
preview under the cut.
“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”
The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.
“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”
Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.
“Public Information Officer 1?”
“Present and voting.”
“PIO 2?
“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”
“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”
“Prese—”
“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”
“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?”
Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.
“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”
“Present and voting.”
Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page.
It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.
“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.
Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you.
Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.
“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”
No answer. You scoff.
“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?”
Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.
“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.
“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”
“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”
The office door swings open.
“Sorry, I’m late!”
And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”
“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”
Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.
“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”
He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.
It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.
Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?
“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”
You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”
Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”
You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”
“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”
A very bad feeling.
“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”
“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.”
Your face stiffens.
Jeonghan just cut you off.
Shit, he just cut you off.
He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”
“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”
Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.
“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck, you called him by his first name.
You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.
“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”
Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”
Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”
Oh no. Oh god, no.
Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”
Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.
“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”
He doesn’t get paid for this at all.
“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone.
“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”
Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.
“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”
“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”
This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.
“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”
But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?
“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”
What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?
“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”
Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.
“Did you just swear at me?”
Nevermind.
There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”
Well shit.
This meeting is done for.
Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.
It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.
“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”
“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan.
“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”
“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”
“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”
“Great!”
“Great.”
“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”
“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”
“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”
Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.
“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”
Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.
Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in.
“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”
He groans.
Is it too late to file a resignation?
THE BREAKUP SOUP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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