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motorsportbarbie13 · 4 days ago

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Aftermath - Chapter 4

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 6k words (whoooooopsie!!)

(Extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for beta reading and entertaining my texting at 2am when plot inspo hits! 🤭🫶🏻)

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Master List

f1.gossip.source posted

1,384 likes liked by user349, lando, user000, and others f1.gossip.source Charles LeClerc was seen walking into Monaco's La Tavernetta Thursday evening with his girlfriend and little sister in tow. The three arrived together early in the evening and stayed for several hours tucked away from prying eyes a back room. Also in attendance at the impromptu dinner were Arthur and his partner Jade, brother Lorenzo and strangely enough, Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen. user088 once again, @/missleclerc and max in the same place, without lando... >>>user8127 lando over here in the likes though. wonder if his invite got lost in the mail? user112 has ANYONE seen her and Lando together in the last few months??? Are they even still together???

The restaurant that Max picked out turns out to be one of your favorites. La Tavernetta is a small, hole-in-the-wall Italian place that you’ve been coming to for years with your family where the owners know you by name and always greet you with a hug and freshly baked bread, straight from the oven. The place is small but cozy with the smell of onions and garlic hanging heavy in the air. As you weave your way though the closely situated tables, all covered in freshly starched white linen and silver flatware, photos of the large family that’s owned the place for generations stare down at you like sentries from another world. With candles dotting each table and the overhead lights turned down to a dim glow, the mood in the restaurant is calm and serene, an atmosphere that has your frayed nerves smoothing out around the jagged edges. It’s almost as if Max picked this place out with you in mind after the day you’d had.

Your group tonight is big, something that you’re not used to anymore because of how isolated Lando’s kept you recently. Max had gone ahead to meet Daniel while you had gotten ready before Charles and Alex had stopped by the apartment to pick you up. Lorenzo, Jade and Arthur complete the group and meet you in front of the small building. By the time the group all tumbles into the private room the owner always sets aside for the LeClerc’s, you’ve found yourself seated near the corner of the table, nestled between Max on one side and Lorenzo at the head.

Several of bottles of wine and appetizers are ordered the moment everyone is seated. Max catches up with his former teammate as you chat with your brother but when your favorite bottle of white is placed in front of you, he pours you a glass without even pulling his attention away from his friend. The way he’s attentive to you without being overtly showy about it has something twisting in your chest.

“Thank you, Max.” You murmur before taking a sip of the wine, savoring the way the tang of the dry wine bursts across your tongue.

Max turns to you then, eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins back at you. It settles something in him, seeing you lean back in your chair, allowing your body to relax in the warm back room of the small restaurant. Your body language is totally different than it was earlier in the day and Max is surprised to find himself reading you so well. He shouldn’t be, with how well he used to know you, pre-Lando. He could tell how you were feeling when you were younger just by a quick scan of your posture and it made his chest squeeze when he realized he was slowly getting that ability back.

You allow yourself to be a little lost to the chatter to the room after everyone orders their dinners, the lively discussion between Charles and Daniel drowning out the anxiety that has started to creep up the back of your neck as the evening wears on. You had left your phone at home but the last time you had looked at it, Lando had started texting you again and they weren’t much nicer than anything he had sent you earlier in the day.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max senses the tension growing in your body by the way your shoulders stiffen just the slightest. He’s determined to make sure you have a good night, he was the one who suggested this whole thing after all and he knew that you were probably thinking about what Lando was doing, spinning in circles when you didn’t answer him like he expected.

“Do you remember that time you snuck out of your hotel room when Cha and I were racing in Italy?” Max asks in an attempt to distract you. He leans in, shoulder gently brushing your bare skin, simply so you can hear him better over the din of Charles and Arthur arguing. No ulterior motive whatsoever.

Heat floods your cheeks, gasp flying from your lips as you laugh despite yourself. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You hiss indignantly, but there’s no venom in your tone.

Max smirks at you over his gin and tonic, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m pretty sure you do. You snuck out of the hotel to hang out with us because Pascale grounded you for being sassy the day before.”

“You two were always leaving me out and I was tired of it.” You sniff, smile teasing the corner of your mouth.

“You took the bus across town by yourself!” Max laughs.

“I was an independent child, what can I say?”

“You were nine!” Max chuckles, unable to ignore the spark of fire that has lit into your eyes as you replay the memory in your head. Yep, he thinks, there’s the girl that had no fear and took no shit. She’s still in there. He didn’t break her.

Rolling your eyes, you grin into your wine glass, enjoying the way Max’s gaze feel as they skate over your skin. “I managed, didn’t I? You guys didn’t question it when I just turned up at the track either, so really was it that surprising?”

“You told us Maman forgave you and dropped you off in the carpark, Little Dove!” Charles scolds from his seat opposite you. “Of course we didn’t question you!”

He’d been watching the interaction between you and Max since everyone sat down and he makes a mental note to thank the Dutch driver. The way he gently coaxes you out of your shell is something he hadn’t been able to do himself lately. He’d been surprised to watch Max be totally in tune with the way your mood shifted before he brought that story up, had been watching fearfully when he saw that flicker of anxiety settle over your features. But he hadn’t needed to step in because as quickly as Charles clocked it, so had Max and he’d stepped in before your own brother had even had a chance.

“I’ll never forget the look on Pascale’s face when she spotted your little brown braids trailing behind us after the end of the practice sessions.” Max muses, taking a long sip of his drink.

“I don’t think I’d ever seen her so angry.” Giggling, you nudge Max’s shoulder with your own. “And then you came to my defense, telling her how clever I was for figuring out the bus system in a country where I didn’t even speak the language.”

“I mean, was I wrong? It was a rather impressive thing for you to pull off.”

You preen at the compliment, leaning a bit further into the warmth of Max’s body. “No, no you’re right. I was an impressive child.”

Max opens his mouth to say something about how you’re still impressive, not even attempting to hide the fact that he’s shamelessly flirting with you when the temperature of the room suddenly drops to just above freezing. The air goes still as someone clears their throat in the doorway of the small private room your group is tucked away in.

The sound sends a chill down your spine and you drop your hand below the table, instinctively grasping at the warmth that’s pressed up against your knee. Max feels your fingers reach for his thigh, sucking in a breath at the sudden touch from you. His hand drops below the table, covering your hand with his without a second thought.

From across the room, Lando grinds his molars together as he clocks the subtle movement from Max. He quickly recovers though, yanking that practiced good boyfriend mask right back into place. “Baby!” He says, a sigh of relief tumbling from his mouth. “I’m so glad I found you, I’ve been worried sick.”

“How did you find us?” Jade wonders from her spot to his left.

“Monaco is a small town, news travels fast.” He mumbles under his breath. Not even sparing Jade a glance, Lando crosses the room to grab a chair from the corner before plopping it down right between Lorenzo and yourself.

There’s not much room in the corner of the small room and Lorenzo is forced to move over several inches to avoid being impaled by one of the chair legs Lando now sits on. Leaning over, Lando presses his lips directly to your cheek in an overt display of affection you’re simply not prepared for. Max’s blood boils at the way you flinch away from his touch and it takes every ounce of control he’s honed over the years of driving in F1 to keep from punching Lando outright.

“I guess my invite got lost in the mail, huh?” His tone is light but you can sense the edge of anger in his voice with the way his words are just a touch too clipped.

“We didn’t think you’d want to come after the texts you sent her earlier.” Max fires back, giving your hand a squeeze under the table.

Beside him, Daniel shifts uncomfortably in his chair, glancing away. Tension crackles in the air, a live wire of electricity ready to explode at even the slightest spark.

“What kind text messages?” Arthur’s eyes go sharp at Max’s tone of voice.

Lando waves a hand, dismissing Max’s comment. “I was worried about her, that’s all. I come home after a week away and all of her stuff is gone, treadmill, clothes, Peloton bike. Everything! No note? What was I supposed to think when she wouldn’t answer her phone?”

Max doesn’t miss the challenge in Lando’s eyes and he takes a steadying breath. “Maybe you should have taken the hint that she was finally done with you?” He spits.

Lando swallows hard, eyes going dark as he stares down his on-track rival. You can see the mask slipping and you know he’s almost at his tipping point. The room is silent around you, no one daring to push Lando further than Max has already done. “Well if that was the case, I would hope she’d be adult enough to talk to me first instead of just abandoning a three year long relationship.”

“Lando, we can talk about this tomorrow.” You lean forward, blocking his line of sight to Max in hopes of quelling this pissing match the two men seem to have fallen into. “Now is not the time to do this.” You can sense the frayed rope of control that Lando is barely holding onto and desperately maneuver to diffuse the situation.

“I don’t think this should wait.” He says simply, dismissing your request with a wave of his hand.

“And I think you should respect her wishes and discuss this later.” Max stands then, sending his chair scraping loudly against the wood floors beneath him.

Your eyes go wide when Lando stands too but Max is much taller than the British driver and you’re trapped in the middle.

Oh fuck.

It’s your turn to stand now, drawing strength from the way Jade and Alex are both looking at you from across the table. You can do this, you tell yourself as you put yourself in between Max and your ex-boyfriend. “Lando.” Your tone is surprisingly firm and Max nearly smirks. Yep, there’s that fire he knew you never lost. “Now is not the time. I’m trying to have a nice dinner with my friends. I will call you when I’m ready, alright?”

Lando’s eyes bounce from yours to Max’s and then to Charles before finally flickering back to yours. You manage to hold his gaze despite everything in your body screaming to look away. From the set of your shoulders, Max can tell you’re not going to back down on this and the pride that surges in his chest catches him fully off guard.

“Fine.” He huffs, knowing that tonight is a lost battle. “But this isn’t over.” He growls before shoving his chair back so hard it clatters against the wall.

When Lando finally sweeps out of the room, you collapse into your chair, breathing a sigh of relief. You’re not entirely sure how you managed to finally stand up to Lando’s bullying because if this scene had gone done even just a day earlier, you’re fairly certain that it would have ended much differently. Max settles down in his chair again and is surprised to feel the warmth of your hand find his. He glances over at you, gaze meeting yours as the chatter around the table picks back up. There’s so much hanging between you in that moment that it’s almost suffocating. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ as he nods in reply, his thick fingers tangling with yours underneath the white linen tablecloth as he gives you another reassuring squeeze.

Across from you, Charles smirks into his wine as he watches the entire exchange before he turns his attention back to what Alex is telling him, comfortable enough knowing that you’re in good hands with Max.

missleclerc posted

23,018 likes liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, mamanleclerc and others missleclerc its always a good night when no one throws a punch ;) mamanleclerc i quite like La Tavernetta, can we please not get the family permanently banned by throwing punches? why is this an accomplishment? user9382 lando in the likes of the gossip post, but not here. uhh... >>>user029 and no one throwing punches? was there tension at dinner??? maxverstappen1 for the record, i kept my hands to myself. for the most part, at least. >>>missleclerc MAX. >>>maxverstappen1 :) >>>user928 MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN WHAT. DOES. THIS. MEAN. >>>user029 max being messy in the comments. i am HERE for it.

Lando goes radio silent after the night at the restaurant. An outsider might think it was just him respecting your wishes and think that he was doing it in an effort to give you the space you had asked for but they would be wrong. You knew better though. You knew what he was doing and you were determined not to fall into his trap again. You knew that Lando was giving you the silent treatment as punishment for making a fool of him in front of everyone. You knew and you while there was a haze of anxiety that hung around you for the first two days as you waited for him to grow tired of the punishment, eventually you settled down.

There as a race the weekend after the dinner and most of your circle left Monaco for Austria. Everyone except you. You weren’t ready to go to a race yet, not with the knowledge that Lando would be there and you’d have to inevitably answer questions on why you weren’t splitting your time between Ferrari and McLaren like you usually did when you attended races. You also knew your resolve in resisting Lando was strong when he wasn’t physically near you but if you allowed yourself to get too close too quickly, you’d waver and allow him back in. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

So instead of going to Austria like your brother had asked you, you stay at home and throw yourself into your work. You don’t have any shows coming up but there’s always demand for your art and since leaving Lando, you’ve felt more inspired than ever to dive into a new study. Landscapes have always been your favorite and your go-to but something in you feels pulled to do something different. You’ve always been heavily influenced by the impressionists but something feels too soft about them for the mood you’ve been in since standing up to Lando. Like you need to do something bolder, more out of your usual style and for the first few days that you’re alone in your studio, you spend most of your time experimenting.

Eventually though, something starts to take shape. It’s Saturday afternoon when the inspiration accidentally hits you. Like most of your work, you don’t quite know what’s happening or where it’s going until you’re knee deep in a painting. The low hum of the engines playing on the TV you have set up in the small sitting room on one end of your studio serves as the perfect backdrop for your current inspiration. Half-way through Q2, you take a step back to study the canvas you had prepped earlier in the morning. The sketch that stares back at you has your head tilting to the side, observing it like it’s a foreign object that you didn’t just spend almost an hour sketching.

It’s going to be bold you decide, splashes of navy and red and yellow are in order, colors that are totally outside your wheelhouse normally but you can tell this is going to evolve into a series that is totally different from anything you’ve ever painted before.

You spend the rest of the afternoon working on it, locked away in your studio alone while Taylor Swift pours out of the speakers that you had insisted Charles and Arthur install for you when you first rented the space a few years ago. It feels like home here, more so than any place you’ve ever lived. There are paintings everywhere, some more completed than others. A large drafting table sits under the giant bay window that faces north, providing you with all day sunlight that is perfect for working in. A small seating area is tucked away in the corner near the kitchenette where you have a small electric kettle and microwave for those times you don’t want order out or go home to eat but need food. The floor is a light hardwood, contributing to the perfect light and airy ambiance you crave when you’re working.

You work late into the night Saturday, completely forgetting to even glance at your phone or worry about what Lando was up to. It’s the first time in over a year that you’re not concerned about what might happen if you lose yourself to your painting and accidentally ignore him. The feeling is so freeing, so liberating, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re tempted to spend the night on the couch in your studio but know if Charles finds out, you’d have hell to pay so instead you call your mother on your way home to make sure you’re safe.

Sunday is another day spent in your studio and you get there bright and early. Charles calls you first thing, just to check in and he’s pleased to hear the absence of anxiety in your voice. He breathes a sigh of relief when you tell him you’d already been up to work out and are on your way to spend another day painting, so many ideas popping up over night thanks to that one painting you’ve nearly finished. You refuse to tell him what it’s of though, you’re a bit superstitious when it comes to talking about your work before its finished. All you tell him is that it’s different from what you normally paint and you have an idea for an entirely new series based on this one painting.

The race plays through your speakers and you constantly are checking the running order while you put the finishing touches on the painting you started the day before. Normally, it takes you longer to finish a piece like this but for some reason, the inspiration hit you and you find yourself moving at a pace that is wholly abnormal for you. By the time the race finishes and Max, Charles, and Oscar are celebrating on the podium, you’re putting the finishing touches on one of the boldest pieces of art you’ve ever created.

Monday is spent in the studio again, starting on a second piece. Something bold and red and even bigger than your last painting but just as out of the norm for you. You spend all day working on getting the sketch of the new piece on the large canvas and only break once the sun is hanging low in the sky. Your stomach rumbling and reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast earlier in the day is the only thing that manages to pull you from your work.

Someone holds the elevator for you when you finally make it back to your building as the sun begins to set over the water at your back and you jog to ensure they’re not waiting for you for too long.

“Hey you.” A smooth, deep voice greets you the moment you step into the lift.

“Max!” You’d give the Dutch driver a hug but your arms are currently occupied with a large bouquet of roses that had been delivered to your studio that morning. “Congratulations on the win yesterday! You drove so well.”

Max takes matters into his own hands, pushes the button for your floor before slipping one arm around your shoulders in a casual show of affection. “Thanks, Dovie.” He grins down at you, unable to quell the flutter in his chest at the smile that dazzles up at him. “It was a good weekend, wasn’t it?”

“From pole to P1? I think you could count that as successful, yes.” You chuckle, leaning into his frame a bit more than you normally would. You won’t admit it to anyone but you had missed Max while he’d been away. It feels entirely too soon to be having any sort of feelings for anyone, especially after what you’ve gone through with Lando recently, but you can’t help the undeniable chemistry you feel with your long-time friend.

Max glances down at the large bouquet of roses cradled in your hands and lifts an eyebrow. “Roses?”

You heave a sigh and roll your eyes, “Lando.” You say by way of explanation. “This is the fourth bouquet he’s sent since he left for Austria Thursday.”

“But you hate roses.” Max says, rubbing at his stubbled chin with the palm of his hands.

You’re surprised by Max’s words but he’s not wrong. “They’re not my favorite.” You admit, small smile playing on your lips.

“Tulips are.” He says softly as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. “That engineer Charles set you up with when he was at Sauber brought you roses for your first date and you laughed in the hotel lobby afterwards. You said how you hated how cliche roses were and that tulips were prettier and lasted longer. Pink ones though, not red.”

You stand there for a moment, stunned, blinking up at Max. The date with the Sauber mechanic had been years ago, before Charles had even been at Ferrari. You didn’t even remember Max being in the lobby with you when you had said that.

Max’s cheeks heat as you stare up at him, eyes narrowed a touch and soft smile on your lips like you can’t quite wrap your head around what he’s just said. Maybe he’s said too much, admitted he’s been paying too much attention to you for too long. He second guesses his words, wondering if he’s taken it a step too far, pushed you too far out of your comfort zone. He’s desperate for you to say something, anything to confirm that you’re not freaking out.

The elevator dings once again, protesting at being held for so long at one floor. “You must be exhausted.” You murmur as you step out of the elevator, looking back at him. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I was going to make some salmon and veggies. Nothing fancy but I know I bought way too much.”

Max rubs at the back of his neck, relief surging through him at your offer. “I would love to. Let me go change and I’ll bring down a bottle of wine?”

“I’ll get everything in the oven.” You confirm before turning around and walking away, leaving Max staring after you, unsure of what the rest of the night is going to hold.

“We could watch Drive to Survive.” You say with a smirk, tucking your feet underneath your legs as you settle down on the couch a few hours later.

Max shoots you a look, wrinkling his nose. “Absolutely not.”

“I started the new season of Great British Baking Show the other night, I’m only up to bread week!”

“So Saving Private Ryan is off the table?” Max jokes, plucking a green bean off of your plate before you can stab his hand with your fork.

“Are you insane?” You laugh.

“Fine, British Baking Show it is, I guess.”

“It’s The Great British Baking Show, Maxie.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest at the nickname but he just rolls his eyes at you, watching while you flip through Netflix to turn the next episode on. A comfortable quiet settles over the living room then as you both eat the dinner you’d spent the last hour cooking. Max isn’t much of a cook so having a homemade meal that doesn’t come from his nutritionist is a treat, so he enjoys the salmon that you’ve seasoned to perfection.

“How was your weekend?” Max asks after a few quiet moments.

You turn to him, a bit caught off guard. You hate that your knee jerk reaction to the question is to compare it to what Lando would’ve done, which is not even bother to ask after your weekend at all. He did at first, of course. Lando had always been so attentive when you first started dating but like everything else in your relationship, slowly that attentive energy just stopped. You can’t help but wonder if that’s normal in long term relationships and maybe you had been asking for too much from your now ex-boyfriend.

Shaking off the heavy thoughts, you smile back at Max instead. “Quiet but I got a lot of work done. I can’t remember the last time I spent so much time in my studio all at once.”

“That’s good, anything special you’re working on.”

You smirk, “I started a few new pieces. Finished one that I think turned out really good and got started on a second. I don’t usually finish pieces so quickly but I felt…” You pause, searching for the right word that doesn’t sound too cliche. “Inspired.”

Cliche it is.

“Can I see?” Max knows how protective you are over your art and knows he’s pushing his luck but as he looks at you settled on the other side of the couch from him, curled up and shoulders relaxed he thinks you might just let him in.

“You can see the second one.” You say vaguely, not wanting to show anyone the one that took you most of the weekend to complete.

Max narrows his eyes as he watches you place your finished plate on the coffee table in front of you. Plate discarded, you reach for your phone where it sits next to you on the arm of the couch before scooting over so you’re closer to Max. Your sudden closeness sets Max’s teeth on edge as the scent of your perfume washes over him. At first it smells like warm vanilla but there’s a back note of something spicy that he can’t quite identify but whatever it is, the scent fits you perfectly.

Your arm presses up against his side as you lean over, passing over your phone where you have your photo gallery already pulled up. Max finds it difficult to concentrate on what you’re showing him at first, the scent of your perfume mixing with the warmth of your breath he can feel dust over his skin you’re so close. He’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose but he thinks you might be trying to kill him when you lean into him even more, flipping through the gallery casually.

“It’s not like anything I’ve done before.” Your silky voice yanks him out of his spiral and his eyes snap up to yours before quickly dropping back down to your phone. The painting in front of him is spectacular, vivid reds and yellow practically jumping off the canvas at him.

“The phone doesn’t do it quite enough justice, I know, but you get the idea.” The nerves in your stomach have your voice wavering as you realize you care more about what Max thinks about how well you’ve captured your brother’s Ferrari coming in for a pit stop.

“It’s…” Max reaches for the correct word to describe how impressed he is. “Dovie, it’s a masterpiece.”

The flattery has a crimson blush creeping across your cheeks and you’re incredibly thankful for the golden twilight that keeps your living room fairly dim around you. “I mean, I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“Well I would. Has Charles seen it?”

You shake your head as you watch Max zoom in on the painting to see the details better. Usually watching people observe your artwork for the first time is an exercise in wrecked nerves and anxiety but you find yourself strangely calm as Max continues to study the painting.

As your phone is still in Max’s hands, a phone call flashes across the screen causing your heart to stutter to a near complete stop.

LANDO CALLING

Fuck.

He’d left you alone for so long you had began to get a bit too comfortable, a bit to relaxed with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he’d given up on getting you back. You should have known better.

“You don’t have to answer.” Max murmurs, noting that you don’t make attempt to move back to where you were sitting before you had shown him your painting.

“Maybe if I do, he’ll finally leave me alone.”

Both of you know that’s not even a possibility.

“I’ll leave if you want me to.” He offers but you shake your head.

“Please stay.”

Max nods, watching as you draw your legs up towards your chin, tucking yourself up into a ball. He sucks in a breath when you lean further into his side for a bit of strength though.

“Hi Lando.” You answer, your eyes darting away from Max’s.

“Took you long enough to answer.” His voice is rough and angry, sending a shiver down your spine. Max can hear his voice clearly despite it not even being on speaker. “Had to make sure your date was out of earshot before you picked up, huh?”

You sigh, not wanting to entertain the jealousy tonight but something sticks in your ribs at the fact that Max is over and you’re practically cuddled up on the couch with him. It’s almost like Lando can sense that you’re busy with someone else. Brushing away the guilt that you know is misplaced, you shake your head as if he could see you. “No, I was just watching tv and didn’t notice you were calling.”

Lando hums as if he doesn’t believe you but lets it go. “Are you done throwing your tantrum yet? I just got back from Austria and you’re still not home. What do I have to do to get you to come back to me?”

“I thought I made myself clear by moving all of my stuff out, Lan.” Beside you, Max shifts uncomfortably. He wants to be there to support you but he doesn’t know if he would be able to sit by and listen to you two get back together, not after the extra time he’s been spending with you lately. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, hoping that you feel that spark that is undeniable between you, but he can’t help it.

“Since when are you so confident with your choices, love?” His voice is taunting, as if Lando knows how easily you waver when it comes to him.

“Don’t call me love.” You snap and Max finds himself reaching for your hand that’s resting on your knee.

“Oh, I like this new attitude you’ve got going on. A side effect from spending so much time with Jade and Alexandra I guess.”

“Lando.” You sigh, suddenly exhausted by this entire conversation. “What do you want?”

“I want us to sit down and have a discussion like two adults about what I have to do to get you back.”

“I’m not coming home, Lando. We’re not getting back together.”

Max hates the wash of relief that crashes over him at your words. Why is he rooting for your heart to break? He knows you love Lando still, despite how poorly he treats you. He doesn’t get it, not really, but he knows you do and he understands how hard it is to love someone who you shouldn’t.

“So you’re really just going to throw away three years without even so much as a discussion?” He presses and Max finds himself leaning forward, hanging on your response.

“I will meet with you in public to discuss whatever you want, but we are not getting back together, am I clear?”

“In public?” He scoffs and Max’s stomach twists at the antagonizing tone of his voice. “So you can get more attention from this? I’m already getting eaten alive on socials over this, why the fuck should I allow you more good will from the public?”

“Lando, if you’re getting backlash from how you’ve treated me lately, that’s not my problem. Maybe you need to do some self reflection.” You’re so tired now and so done with talking to this full grown man so carefully. He’s exhausting and you’re about at your breaking point.

“This is your fucking fault!” He explodes before catching himself, almost like he realizes how far he’s pushed you. A sigh blusters over the line as you wait patiently for Lando to get himself under control. “Please, just come home and we can figure out how to move forward from this.”

“No.” You say firmly. “I will meet you in public if you want but that’s all I’m prepared to do right now.”

Max tries not to allow the anxiety to take over at the last two words of your sentence.

“Fucking hell woman, why are you so difficult?” Lando shouts, forcing you to hold the phone several inches away from your ear.

“Alright, we’re done here. If you want to have a civil conversation later, we can but I’m done Lando. Good bye.”

Without even waiting for him to answer, you stab at the ‘end’ button on your phone and toss it on the coffee table where it clatters loudly against the wood.

Max is quiet, unsure of what you need from him in that moment but he fights the shock that reverberates throughout his body when you lean back against the couch, settling your head in on his shoulder. He recovers quickly though, slipping his arm around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry you had to be there for that.” You whisper, idly wondering why Max always seems to be around when Lando pulls his shit.

“You did so well handling that, schat. I’m proud of you.” With his free hand, Max reaches down and pulls your legs over his lap so you’re a little less balled up like a tightly wound ball of wire.

“He’s so exhausting.” Is your reply and you just shake your head, trying hard to ignore the way your body responds to having Max’s hands on your legs. It’s a jarring juxtaposition, the way you feel when you’re talking to Lando compared to how Max makes you feel and it makes you nervous.

“Are you going to hear him out?” Max asks carefully, fingers toying with the soft fabric of your sweatpants.

You shrug, “I said I would but I don’t know what he could say to get me to change my mind.”

It takes every ounce of tightly wound up control that Max possess not to heave a sigh at your words and he hates himself for the predatory way it makes him feel. “He’s no good for you, Dovie.”

All you can do is nod, a wave of exhaustion suddenly sweeping over you. Max sees it, the way your eyes flutter shut for a moment longer than they should and adjusts his hold on your legs. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it anymore, okay? Let’s just watch the rest of this show and take a break.”

Pulling your legs out of Max’s lap, you readjust yourself so you’re once again leaning into him, the warmth of his body settling the frayed nerves that Lando’s caused to go jagged once again. “Thanks Max.” Is your only response right before your eyes shutter closed, allowing the exhaustion pull you under.

missleclerc posted

23,498 likes liked by charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1, mamanleclerc, and others missleclerc weekend snippets alexandrasaintmleux missed you this weekend pretty girl! >>>missleclerc i know! hoping i'll feel up to a race soon tho user928 the ferrari painting!!! omg!!! (liked by author) maxverstappen1 hope you like the replacement flowers, dovie. can't wait to see that other painting in person... >>>user9388 uhhhh... >>>user111 lando nowhere to be seen and then we get THIS??? Replacement flowers??? >>>user443 what in the grid love triangle is going on here? user928 your studio space is an absolute dream!!!

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

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driverlando · 7 months ago

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✧.* TOTALLY US

synopsis - sometimes sex isn’t all sunshine and flowers, you and Oscar know that better then anyone else

before you continue: this contains smut so minors dni!! if you enjoy pls do give it a reblog, it means a lot to us writers :)

You never thought a quiet evening in could turn so hilariously chaotic, but here you were, tangled up with Oscar on your bed, the two of you giggling uncontrollably between heated kisses.

It had started innocently enough; a quiet dinner, a shared bottle of wine, conversations that flowed effortlessly and a movie neither of you had paid much attention to. Now, with the credits long since rolled, you were a tangled mess of limbs, caught somewhere between passion and laughter.

Oscar’s fingers traced lazy circles on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. You turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the playful glint in his eyes.

“Want to watch another one?” you asked, though your voice was heavy with a different kind of anticipation.

Oscar smirked. “I have a better idea.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that made your toes curl. You responded eagerly, hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body with increasing urgency.

“Bedroom?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

“Yes,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless with desire.

You barely made it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, leaving a trail of discarded garments that marked your path. By the time you reached the bed, you were both down to your underwear, the air between you electric with anticipation.

Oscar’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a mix of tenderness and urgency. He pushed you gently onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes dark with desire.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky.

You felt a flush of heat spread across your skin, your body responding to his words and touch. He kissed you again, deep and passionate, before moving to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your throat and across your collarbone.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, and with a deft flick, he tried to undo it. He fumbled for a moment, making you giggle against his mouth.

“Need some help?” you teased.

“I got it,” he insisted, though his fingers were still struggling. After a few more seconds of awkward fumbling, he finally managed to unclasp it, and you laughed together as he tossed it aside.

“Stupid thing” he murmured before moving his mouth lower, his lips and tongue teasing your nipples until you were squirming beneath him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you reached for him, eager to feel him fully.

He responded by slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and discarding them. He paused to shed his own remaining clothes, and then he was back, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable.

Oscar’s hand slipped between your thighs, fingers finding your most sensitive spot. You gasped, your hips arching into his touch. He teased you, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging for more.

“Please, Osc,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

“Patience,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to make this last.”

His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to tip over, you felt a sharp pain in your leg. A cramp, you realised. You winced, trying to stretch it out without breaking the mood, but Oscar noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched on his face, replacing the lust in his eyes.

“Cramp,” you winced, trying to stretch out your leg. “Just a cramp.”

Oscar chuckled, massaging your calf gently. “We really know how to set the mood, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, we’re a real romantic comedy.”

With the cramp finally easing, you resumed where you left off. Oscar’s fingers brought you back to the edge, his touch expert and teasing. You were so close, your body trembling with anticipation.

He moved over you again, positioning himself between your legs. As he pushed into you, you both gasped at the sensation, the connection electric. He started to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust building the intensity.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his back. The pleasure was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“God, you feel amazing,” Oscar groaned, his voice husky with desire.

“So do you,” you managed to reply, your fingers tracing the muscles of his back.

Oscar began to pick up the pace, the rhythm quickening, the intensity building with each movement. You felt the tension coiling in your belly, your body trembling with anticipation.

And then, in a sudden shift, Oscar’s elbow slipped and accidentally jabbed you in the ribs. You yelped, more surprised than hurt, and he immediately froze.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with concern.

You laughed, the absurdity of the moment breaking the tension, your giggles turning into full blown laughter. “It’s okay. We’re really on a roll tonight, huh? It’s been a disaster”

Oscar grinned, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. “Only a little,” he murmured against your mouth. “But we can make it work.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before adjusting the two of you to find a better position.

This time, when he entered you again, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that made you both moan with pleasure. The rhythm resumed, the connection between you growing stronger with each movement.

You felt the tension build again, your body arching into his. Just as you were on the brink, his phone rang. You both froze, staring at the offending device.

“Ignore it,” you pleaded, your voice shaky.

Oscar glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom.”

“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Can this night get any more ridiculous?”

He silenced the phone, tossing it aside. “She’s just going to have to wait.”

You laughed, pulling him back to you. “Good choice.”

Oscar’s lips met yours again, and the fire between you reignited instantly. His hands roamed your body, each touch reigniting the pleasure that had been building. He moved inside you again, the sensation even more intense than before.

You moved together, the rhythm perfect, the pleasure building rapidly. This time, there were no more interruptions. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, laughter giving way to gasps and moans. You finally reached that elusive peak together, the pleasure washing over you both in waves.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other’s arms, hearts racing and smiles plastered on your faces.

“That was…something,” Oscar said, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

“Yeah,” you agreed, snuggling closer. “Definitely something. And totally us.”

He kissed the top of your head, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one smut #f1 smut #oscar piastri oneshots #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #f1 fluff

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blueiscoool · 8 months ago

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Oldest Wine Ever Discovered in Liquid Form Found in Untouched Roman Tomb

A 2,000-year-old Roman funerary urn unearthed in southern Spain has been shown to contain the oldest wine ever found still in liquid form.

Discovered during home renovations at a property in Carmona in 2019, the contents of the urn were analyzed by a team of scientists from the University of Cordoba in a study published Monday.

Study lead author José Rafael Ruiz Arrebola, a professor of organic chemistry at the university, said that the urn was found to contain cremated remains, burned ivory thought to come from a funeral pyre and around 4.5 liters (1.2 gallons) of reddish liquid.

“When the archaeologists opened the urn we almost froze,” he said. “It was very surprising.”

The team then carried out a chemical analysis of the liquid and found that it was wine.

This was a big surprise, because wine normally evaporates quickly and is chemically unstable, Ruiz Arrebola said.

“This means it is almost impossible to find what we have found,” he said, explaining that the wine had been preserved by a hermetic seal that prevented it from evaporating, but it is not clear how the seal formed.

Further chemical analysis allowed the team to identify the liquid as a white wine, as it didn’t contain syringic acid, a substance only present in red wines, Ruiz Arrebola said.

It also has a similar mineral salt composition to the fino wines produced today in the region, he added.

“It’s something unique,” said Ruiz Arrebola. “We have been lucky to find it and analyze it – it’s something you only see once in your life.”

The researchers believe their discovery dethrones the current holder of the record for oldest wine in a liquid state, the Speyer wine bottle, found in Germany, which is thought to be around 1,700 years old. However, the age of the Speyer bottle has not been confirmed by chemical analysis.

The vessel was one of six funerary urns containing remains found in the mausoleum.

The discovery of a gold ring and other valuable artifacts suggest it was built by a family of considerable wealth, Ruiz Arrebola said.

However, little else is known about their lives, because cremation would have destroyed any DNA, he explained, adding that this means it is impossible to say whether the six people were related.

Ruiz Arrebola now plans to try to work out which modern-day local wine it was most similar to, although there are hundreds to work through.

By Jack Guy.

#Oldest Wine Ever Discovered in Liquid Form Found in Untouched Roman Tomb #Carmona Spain #ancient tomb #ancient grave #ancient mausoleum #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire

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sundays-sims · 8 months ago

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P O O L H A U S . (early access, patreon)

Happy June everyone!

This month's content is a little special; I worked in collaboration with PXL to create the perfect set to furnish your pool house, lounge, or living room. You will also be able to download @pixelplayground very own pool house build on her patreon here: [X] It's free & absolutely beautiful, make sure to check it out. The Pool Haus set itself contains 18 new meshes, including bar & bar stools, different surfaces (not kitchen counters, but still could be used as), deco wine fridge, tall cabinet, ceiling glass & brass shelves, some cute deco cocktails & cozy sofas. The swatches are neutrals but also include dusty blue, navy blue, olive & dark grey. I hope you enjoy!

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

D O W N L O A D L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)

S E T D E T A I L S :

sofa - 12 swatches

armchair - 12 swatches

ottoman - 12 swatches

bar stool - 24 swatches

bar - 23 swatches

ceiling shelves - 2 swatches (3 heights)

counter w. tall cabinet - 23 swatches

counter - 23 swatches

counter w. deco wine fridge - 23 swatches

counter w. prep sink - 23 swatches (functional)

stone coffee table - 4 swatches

elderflower cocktail - 2 swatches

tequila shot - 1 swatch

wine bottle - 2 swatches (3 different versions; vertical, horizontal, angled for deco fridge)

** pool haus will be released (free) on June 29th**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←

#ts4 #simblr #ts4cc #sims 4 cc #sims 4 interior #sims 4 #sims 4 cc download #sims4

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fictionalsweethearts · 5 days ago

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ONE-EYED EMISSARY | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Sevika was clear from the start; no attachments. However, you were hopelessly in love with her and believed that if you tried hard enough, you would make her give in. You didn't count on a one-eyed cat to help you with such a task.

Contains: wlw, f!reader, toxic situationship, mention of cheating, one shot, fluff, a very pathetic reader tbh, cats.

Word count: 4,198

You had grown accustomed to her intermittence. Sevika was an intermittent lover, her affection and attention were rationed, her visits were difficult to predict and impossible to ask for. It wasn't that it was up to you to demand anything from her, Sevika was clear from the beginning about her lack of interest in a relationship, and you accepted believing yourself capable of keeping up with her. But you found yourself glued to the window every night, curled up in a cold bed, expectant and impatient, wondering when she would knock on your door and demand your attention with the certainty that you would give it to her every time. Because you always do.

She liked your body, she always told you that. Sevika wasn't a bad lover, on the contrary, she made you forget about your daily sorrows as long as she was buried between your legs or her hand was around your throat, kissing your mouth without shame or limitations, reminding you that as much as you sought her passion in someone else, nothing could be compared to her scent of tobacco and her whiskey tongue. She doesn't promise you to spend the night, but she did it a few times, curling up next to you in bed and feeding a naive fantasy that you knew was hurting you. You dared to kiss her with a love that you shouldn't profess to her, only for her to whisper to you the next morning, "I have to work, go back to sleep," and then put on her poncho and leave your bed.

You had become dependent, you sought her approval, her affection, her attention. The slightest sign of certainty that you were still as important as the first time, hoping that there was no other girl to keep her busy or her bed warm. She had many, you feared, the rumors of her frequent visits to the Rupturewalk were as painful as they were true. And you cried, you cried because you were asking her for something that was not yours. She would never reciprocate.

You were falling asleep, you had grown tired of waiting and you put the sparkling wine back in the fridge and blew out the candle next to the bed, you curled up in the hope of forgetting your disappointment when you heard a knock at the door. You were embarrassed by how quickly you left the bed, stopping halfway to compose yourself before opening the door. Sevika looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You're up late."

"You've come late." you to retorted.

"Not my problem if you choose to wait up all night for me." she replied, taking her cigarette and flicking ashes into an empty beer bottle that was siiting on the hallway. She didn't need to ask you to let her in. You closed the door slowly, not noticing the box Sevika was carrying under her poncho.

Sevika sighed, placing the box on the coffee table and turning to look at you. She had dark circles under her eyes, you could tell they were from fatigue, but her eyes lit up as she looked at you. They traveled over your soft neck and the valleys of your shoulders, down your arms before focusing on the cleavage your silky slip dress showed.

"All dolled up for bed." she said, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "You've been waiting for me."

"Don't flatter yourself." you spat, knowing damn well that you took a long bath before bed, scrubbed your knees and armpits with soap and perfumed your neck with that chocolate scent that Sevika enjoys so much. You oiled the ends of your hair, applied chapstick to your lips and even a thin layer of blush. No one looked that pretty just for going to bed.

"I'm flattered anyway." she smirked, shortening the distance to steal a kiss from you.

She cupped your cheek and gave you a second, slow and methodical, trying to get your frown to soften into an expectant, complacent expression. Sevika hummed against your mouth, feeling your curves with her rough palm before your eyes landed on the box on the coffee table. "What's that?"

Sevika stepped back and glanced at the box. "Supply of cigarettes I picked up on the way here."

The box didn’t seem to contain any cigarettes, but over time you learned not to ask Sevika more questions than you had to. She had too many secrets to keep and they could spill out of her mouth once you two got into the sheets, so she didn’t let you pry too deeply into her affairs. She only told you a few details about the business and Silco’s affairs when she smoked a cigarette after making love to you, and most of them were pretty vague.

Sevika sat down on the couch, pulling you into her lap and placing a firm hand on your waist. Your limbs were still stiff, your discomfort still raw. Sevika had been gone for almost two weeks, giving no sign of life. Because of her line of work you believed the worst, more than once you went to the Last Drop to ask for her without success. Until one night one of the lairs pulled you aside to a corner and asked you not to show up again unless Sevika summoned you, which resulted in a drunken binge and an hour of karaoke at the club before passing out in the bathroom and being brought back home by one of Silco’s employees, probably sent by Sevika herself.

"I thought I told you not to go to the Last Drop." Sevika mentioned after placing a kiss on your neck.

"I was worried." you mumbled.

"I don't need you to worry about me. It's not your place." Her words were harsh, but her grip on you was tender.

You clenched your jaw. "You didn't show up for two weeks, no one was giving me any answers."

"And that's why you made a scene at the club and passed out in the toilet?" Sevika asked in a firm tone. "It's not up to you to know where I am or who I'm with. I thought we already talked about it."

You two talked about it from the first night you spent together. Sevika had seen you at the club, alone and half drunk, probably drowning your sorrow over some recent breakup or your chronic loneliness. The truth is that you had a few coins in your pocket and were calming your nerves before going to Rapturewalk to ask for a job as a last resort. But Sevika changed your plans with a couple of words and a drink on the house. She waited for you to sober up before making the first move and you didn't regret having invited her to your bed. Then she caressed your cheek, realizing that there was something about you that stopped her from leaving.

"We can keep seeing each other." Sevika whispered. "No attachments."

And you accepted. How foolish of you.

"I'm a busy woman and I don't always have time to tell you where I'm going or when I'm coming back. It's not your right to demand explanations from me." added Sevika, gripping your chin so you couldn't look away. "Do you know how risky your tantrum was? There are pervs in this city, murderers and rapists. Don't ever expose yourself like that again."

Sevika's grip softened, her thumb tracing circles on your shoulder.

"I'm warning you," she grumbled. "I'm a dangerous woman, and I have dangerous enemies. If they catch wind of you, they'll use you to get back at me. Don't make the mistake of being careless like that ever again."

"Yes, Sevika." you nodded, swallowing the little pride you had.

You felt the straps of your dress slide down your shoulders, the fabric pooling around your waist as Sevika kissed your neck and cupped one of your breasts in one hand. "Good, don't forget it then." she grumbled against your neck, leaving a way of kisses down your chest before taking your nipple into her mouth.

"Ah." you moaned lowly, cupping the back of her neck and knowing the small talk was over.

You cried during sex. Sevika wasn't harsh or cruel, she was so gentle that you hated her even more. You cried because you knew you couldn't kick her out of your house or your life, you cried because you missed her like you miss a lover, you cried like you were the other woman when there wasn't a formal one in Sevika's life. Yours were silent tears, almost confusing with pleasure ones after Sevika edged you until you begged for a release she denied it over and over again. But she could tell you were hurt, and all she could do was to kiss your wet cheeks and speak the truth.

"You need to stop getting so attached to me, doll." Sevika murmured in the silent room. She couldn't deny that she was a selfish woman, she took from you what she needed and never gave anything of herself in return. And she knew you needed more from her, but she just couldn’t give it to you.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologize to yourself." she stated. "You're crying, not me."

Sevika gently wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "I can't give you more than this." She said, almost in a gentle warning. "I won't. And you need to understand, or else I should stop coming."

"No." you shook your head vehemently, as the sole thought made your chest hurt. "No..."

She leaned down to kiss you, your lips slightly salty with tears but also willingly open.

You lay down on her bare chest, your feet brushing against hers, your breathing synchronized as the caresses you shared with your fingertips began slowing down while you began dozing off. You traced circles on her abdomen while she followed the lines of your stretch marks on your hip with her index finger, looking at the ceiling and questioning why she kept coming to you if she got nothing but pain out of it.

And why the hell did you keep letting her in?

The rustling of cardboard caught your attention, thinking the night breeze had knocked over the coffee cup by the window, but the meow that followed made you sit up suddenly. A high-pitched, insistent and urgent meow. "Did you hear that?" you asked, waiting for the next meow.

"Don't tell me you have a cat." she grumbled half asleep.

"I don't." you stated. Sevika yawned, watching you leave the bed and head towards the source of the sound in the living room. You thought a kitten had snuck into your apartment, you searched for it with your ears as the room was dark. The sound led you to the box on the coffee table.

Sevika’s box.

"Sev," you called. "Your cigarettes are meowing."

The aforementioned left the bed, her heavy steps reaching the living room and she turned on the lamp next to the sofa. "Cigarettes don't meow," she growled, although you didn't notice that her tone sounded more tense than usual. Sevika's expression transitioned from annoyance to irritarion as you lifted the lid of the box. Sure enough, a small, black kitten with a single eye popped its head out, wide eye looking up at you before letting out another meow.

"Alright, list-"

"You brought a cat?!" you inquired as Sevika let out a groan.

"No! I-, fuck, yeah." she tried to explain. "I meant to tell you tomorrow."

Sevika's expression hardened as if she was weighing her options in her mind, deciding how much she wanted to reveal to you. She was quiet for a moment before finally sighing and running her hand down her face.

"I found this damned thing while on my way here. It was in the alleyway, meowing and getting on my nerves and-" she paused and shook her head. "I don't know why I brought it with me."

You looked at the little one again, meowing like a complaint as he tried to climb up the box and soften you and Sevika up with his thin fur and single eye. He was succeeding.

"You rescued him." you said.

She leaned against the couch nd letting out a sigh. "It was following me down the street, meowing its little head off. I thought it was just hungry and I didn't want to listen to it whine anymore, so I carried it here."

"And what was your plan?"

"I don't have time to babysit a damn cat." Sevika said. "I figured if I brought it here, you could take care of it."

You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. "Great. Not only the whore but the babysitter now?"

"Who said you're a whore?" retorted Sevika, leaning towards you. "As far as I can remember, you're not working at Babbette's anymore."

"Personal bedwarmer, then." you insisted.

"Stop it." she spat, as the cat demanded attention meow after meow. "I'm just asking you to keep it for tonight, while I figure out what to do. I can't carry a furball down the harbor, can I?"

You looked at the little animal and sighed, believing that Sevika was simply getting rid of it with you. ""It's just a little cat, doll. Don't act like I just dropped a whole damn child in front of you."

"Gosh, I can't believe you." Sighing heavily, you leaned down to take the kitten into your arms. Its claws tickled your skin, its smell of street and sewer didn't seem to bother you, nor did its single eye.

Sevika let out a sigh. "Thank you."

You didn't look at her, you walked towards the kitchen instead to feed the fussy little thing. You watched the kitten feed himself fervently from a bowl of boiled milk, hearing his tiny licks. Crouched in front of his dinner, the kitten looked harmless and certainly fragile.

"He's your cat," you said to Sevika. "I can take care of him, but he's yours."

"Alright... it's mine." nodded Sevika. "Don't get attached, then."

And you huffed. "I've heard that before."

The space next to your bed was empty the next morning, but you didn't allow yourself to regret it, as the kitten demanded attention as soon as he noticed you had woken up. He was a natural communicator. You soon distinguished between his hunger meows and his attention meows. He was smart and affectionate,following you around and seeking to lay on your chest or climb on your shoulder when you were working at the desk. You limited yourself to calling him 'cat' the first few days, unsure of getting attached to an animal that didn't belong to you, but whose owner was too busy to care for him or come see you. On the second day someone came to drop litter box and cat formula at your apartment, on the third a kitty bed. Sevika didn't have the time to come but she hadn't forgotten her agreement; the cat was hers.

Within a week the furball had taken over your home. He learned your routine, developed whims that you indulged without complaint, and got used to sleeping next to you in that bed you so longed to fill. "When you're bigger, Sevika won't have to come fill this space," you whispered, to which the kitten meowed.

Sevika arrived that night to your surprise. As you opened the door, the cat snuck between your legs and came out to meet her.

"Hey, little bastard." said the woman, kneeling to pet the black kitten which looked way more round compared to a week ago.

"Coming early." you teased her. "Feeling guilty?"

"I wasn't coming for the damn cat, I was coming for you."

"My bed is occupied tonight." you said, glancing at the cat on Sevika's hand.

"You let the damn cat sleep in your bed?" she groused.

"You mean your cat." you retorded. "He's a well behaved kitten, even more than you."

"Remind me to not bring any more animals to your place." she sighed, stepping into your apartment.

The kitten did not stop seeking Sevika's attention throughout the evening, meowing non-stop, climbing up her poncho and using all of its charms to get what he wanted. The kitten even climbed up the bed while you were in the middle of a session with Sevika and she almost crushed him if it weren't for the fact that you noticed its furry silhouette on the bed. The kitten finally succeeded, sleeping on Sevika's chest that night.

"You have to give him a name..." you whispered.

Sevika pursed her lips, looking down at the purring ball on her chest before petting it with her knuckles. "Let's call him Wink. After his single eye."

Wink. You smiled.

"Wink..." you repeated. "It suits him."

Wink learned his name quickly. As the days passed, he began to grow by leaps and bounds. His fine coat of fur was now thick and dark as night, his single yellow eye scanning around without problem, becoming a nocturnal hunter and the object of your anguish when you didn't see him return home until several hours later. Once he came with a small bird between his teeth, still alive, and he placed it at the foot of your bed as an offering. "I guess he loves you," Sevika murmured, looking at the dying little animal.

Wink became your roommate and the most reliable guarantee for Sevika to show up at your apartment. Her absences were getting shorter, her stays longer. She often came to see the kitten, sleep with you, and even started staying for breakfast when her work didn't prevent it. You wondered if Wink was really the reason for her presence, and that made you cling to the animal even more, achieving what you tried to do for two years.

Keeping Sevika close.

You often watched Sevika sleep, her breathing long and calm, her chest rising with each breath. Wink would often curl up between the two of you, cradled in the warmth of two women who seemed to attract each other like hymans but hurt each other like poison in small doses. Your fantasy would fade as soon as Sevika woke up and she would start thinking about you more often during work or during her gambling breaks.

Things were changing.

However, after a month you went to the Last Drop, as Sevika had forbidden you so many times. But this time the reason was valid and urgent. A guard stopped you at the entrance, you asked him anxiously to let you through, that you were looking for Sevika. Until she appeared behind the man.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice stern. "You know you're not supposed to be here."

"Wink is missing." you said. "He's been gone for three days, I've been looking for him all over the Lanes."

"The hell do you mean he's missing?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of worry. "Have you checked all his usual spots?"

You breathed heavily, weighing the possibility that Wink was lost or something else had happened to him. Zaun was a cruel place for humans and animals alike, there was talk of markets selling dog and cat meat, of unscrupulous sellers who bought cat skins and sold them as rabbit skins. You feared the worst.

"Hey, we'll find him." she said, her voice firm yet reassuring. "Don't think the worst just yet. He'll turn up."

Sevika ordered the guard to step aside, allowing you to enter. A murmur seemed to stir at the sight of Silco's second-in-command with a girl, comforting her with more gentleness than the woman had ever shown. But one look from her had them all quieting down and going on with their business. "Sit down, doll."

She handed you a glass of sparkling water, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder as she gauged your worry. "Alright, listen to me." Sevika said. "We're gonna find that damn cat. I'm gonna call in some favors and put some eyes out there."

"What if he's dead?" you asked.

"He's not dead, doll. He's a smart bastard."

The next few hours were a dream and a nightmare all at once. For the first time you walked the streets of Zaun with Sevika at your side, clinging to her arm as you asked about a one-eyed black furball that had strayed. You hadn’t noticed Sevika’s effect on people until they came closer and seemed to brace themselves for something, backs straightening, conversations dying down, and a few nervous smiles appearing. But many turned to look at you as well, seeing the second in command with a tearful girl on her arm. A girl who didn’t look like a lady-in-waiting.

As night fell, you were tired and hopeless. Wink seemed to hide from you and Sevika was getting more and more impatient. He's a damn cat after all, why bother so much? But seeing you like that, reminder her that for you it wasn't just a cat.

"Doll, I'll take you home." she said then, stopping you. "That's enough for today, we've been searching for hours and I can't keep you company any longer."

"But…"

"I still have people searching, don't worry."

When you got home, Sevika insisted that you take a bath and have dinner. She wouldn't let you fall into a depressive episode over a case as solvable as a lost cat. If necessary, she would find another one-eyed furball and deposit it in your bed the next morning. But she couldn't keep watching you cry, she had done it before when she was the reason for your tears.

Sevika sat next to you on the bed, you were half asleep but still sniffling. The woman studied you silently, understanding that your distress was not only due to the probable death of a cat, but to what that cat meant.

"Are you sure he's just a cat?" she asked quietly. Your eyes fluttered open, her expression looking oddly gentle.

"He's your cat." you whispered.

And the reason she comes to visit you. The reason she's spent more nights with you and smiled more. The reason she stayed for breakfast and gave you gentler kisses. Wink was way more than a cat.

And Sevika reached out to stroke your cheek. "I'll find him, doll. Don't worry."

You dreamed of purrs, the smell of coffee, and an arm around your waist. You dreamed of a kiss on your temple and the certainty of an “I love you.” And you felt pathetic as soon as you woke up.

You sighed, noticing the sun streaming through the window and welcoming you to another noisy morning at the Lanes. You thought of Wink but didn’t rush to get up, the idea of him lying at the bottom of a pot, seasoned with cumin and pepper was already settling in you and you seemed to accept it. Sevika would no longer have to come again.

You stood up to pour yourself a glass of water, unaware of the lump on the couch until the lump meowed. You stopped short, rushing to scoop the furry ball into your arms and hold it against your chest. “Damn rat!” you cried. “Don’t you ever do this to me again, how dare you.”

You kissed his furry head and thanked Janna, telling yourself that you'll put a collar on your cat and close the windows of your apartment better next time. But your happiness was interrupted by Sevika entering the apartment, a black ball of fur on her hand.

And her eyes widened by finding you up and with the damn cat between your arms.

"Well I'll be damned," she muttered, her eyes flitting between you and Wink.

Your eyes widened as much as hers. "Who's that?"

"Fuck." she muttered, shifting in place somewhat sheepishly. "I thought, well… the fucker didn't show up and…"

"A substitute?" you asked.

"A supplanter." she admitted. "Only this one has two eyes."

The kittens looked at each other and Wink hissed at the newcomer, while Sevika seemed to want to hide from your gaze. “Sev…” you said.

“I’ll take it back.”

“No!” you said, taking a step. “No, it’s okay. It can stay.”

"It's just..." Sevika muttered. "I thought you'd be less sad, that's all."

The way she said it, the softness of her words, and the tangible gesture of bringing a cat home just to cheer you up tugged at your heartstrings. Gently, you reached out and touched her chin, tilting her face down towards yours. "I haven't been fair with you." she muttered.

"I've been too naive myself." you whispered.

Sevika sighed, stepping forward to place a kiss on your lips. "The cat was an excuse," she finally admitted.

"The best excuse you could come up with."

Sevika pulled you into a warm embrace and for a moment you wondered if you were still sleeping, only to realize that all of this was as true as the fact that Wink began attacking the newcomer.

"Hey, stop it!" yelled Sevika.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #league of legends #arcane s2 #arcane sevika #arcane smut #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #fluff #cats #more cats #situationships #toxic #this is so damn corny im sorry girls

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