#and if you have no means to assist i would honestly just love to see your armandposts😭🧡 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherry-leclerc · 8 months ago

Text

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by sharpest tool, sabrina carpenter !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him.

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often."

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?”

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters.

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t.

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones.

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body.

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver.

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower.

He’s just becoming— too real.

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his.

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush.

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble.

The start of the season is always tough.

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn.

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world.

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing.

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention.

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand.

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough.

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles.

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend?

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words.

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing.

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.”

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement.

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry.

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room.

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help.

Woah, are you feeling alright?

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.”

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright.

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you.

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter.

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek.

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little.

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration.

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you.

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground.

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open.

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver.

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace.

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.”

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.”

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat.

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.”

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose.

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering.

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it.

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers.

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers.

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs.

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess.

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon.

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando.

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.”

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands.

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.”

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.”

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him.

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again.

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan.

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing.

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.”

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief.

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.”

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision.

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk.

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing.

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off.

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop.

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you?

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning.

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other.

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry.

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath.

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer.

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning.

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome.

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando.

You what?

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers.

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream.

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean.

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.”

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts.

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice.

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare he have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to.

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has.

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might.

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, round eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.”

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct.

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now.

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once.

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it.

It was never going to be you.

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues.

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt?

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend.

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing.

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you.

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded.

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you?

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks just as tired as you. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab.

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough.

Only then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.”

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring.

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle.

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.”

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed m—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a shy laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes.

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly.

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes.

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock.

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it will for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place.

“What about me?”

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

2K notes · View notes

venusalexian · 3 months ago

Text

solet • everything under control

barça femení x teen!reader in which the younger players are worried about a B team player and they make it Alexia’s problem, and you learn that maybe letting people care for you isn’t that bad

When Alexia finishes training, she’s looking forward to quickly showering and rushing home, where her newly-arrived-from-a-work-trip girlfriend and leftovers from dinner at her mami’s house the night before are waiting for her. Her plans are quickly derailed when she enters the locker room. In a corner, a group of the youngest members of the team are huddled, rapidly speaking over each other with concerned expressions. Yeah, she’d definitely have to do damage control before making it home.

Surprisingly, she does not even have to force one of them to confess to whatever mess they had got themselves into this time. Vicky, Jana, Kika and Sydney approach her themselves before she can move to their side.

“Hey Capi, do you have a minute?” Okay, now she really is worried. If Vicky is approaching her so bashfully, something must be really wrong.

“Always. What have you all done now?”

“Nothing! Honestly Ale, so rude to make that assumption.” Jana responds, exasperatedly.

“Okay, let’s focus here, please” redirects Kika quickly.

Alexia waits for one of them to continue, but they all seem suddenly nervous and out of words.

Unexpectedly, it is Sydney, the youngest and shiest of the group, who breaks the silence.

“Do you remember the 15-year-old girl from the B team? She was in the group that joined training on Saturday.” Alexia nods. Of course she does. After their Supercopa win, they had decided to have a joint training with the B team, looking to source for up-and-coming talents. At just a couple months away from turning 16, you had amazed her. You had a great eye for plays, reading the game perfect and providing key pass after key pass. A perfect midfielder, only still slightly too young to transition into the first team. She does not understand why her teammates are bringing you up now, though.

“Well, the girls got worried because she wasn’t there when they came to see our game this weekend.” Sydney continues. “And I told them that she has been more distracted lately and showing up late to training. Our coaching team is more angry than concerned and we all think something is going on but we have no idea what to do.”

“So, um, we were thinking you could use your position as captain to try to find out more from the club? Please, Ale?” Jana finishes Sydney’s speech.

Alexia loves to see that you have already made a mark on the other players, and she feels so proud that they are looking after a younger player like she does for them.

“Okay.” Alexia sighs. “I’m not sure how much I can do, but I’ll keep an eye on it and ask some questions. Now, all of you a la ducha. C’mon kids, you stink!” The younger players roll their eyes at Alexia’s remark, but smile at her promise. They know she means it.

When Saturday comes along, you are surprised to find so many first team players at your match, including all four captains. It makes you even more nervous for today’s game. You had left your home after making sure your grandparents were set for the day and the neighbor was staying around to keep an eye on them. You do not wanna disappoint your team for a second week straight. And you know that another absence would get you benched. You had fought hard for your starting spot during the past year, having to prove yourself twice as much due to your age. You couldn’t give it up now.

You stretch with your team try to ignore the presence of the older players. Once the game starts, though, it is just you and the game. You tune out the yelling from the stands, your worry for your grandparents and your exhaustion after your abuelo’s surgery last week had meant a couple nights of sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs and getting up extra early to go to school.

It is a great match, especially for you. Two goals and an assistance later, you are beaming as they declare you player of the game. You are so relieved that such a good performance would quiet the concerns over your commitment to the club in the last couple of weeks.

You rush to the locker room, wanting to make it home as soon as possible and help your grandparents with their evening routine. But before you can run out the grounds to catch the train, you feel a hand tapping your back. Sydney, one of the kindest members of your team, is smiling at you. You also really admire her and the work she had been doing with the first team.

”Hey, congrats on the goals and thanks for the assist! The girls from the first team were telling me to bring you over. You made a mark during the joint training and they wanna congratulate you too. Wanna come?” You cannot believe what you are hearing. You forget all about the train you’re supposed to catch and nod enthusiastically. “Ye-yeah, let’s go!”

She smiles at you and pushes you towards the exit. The girls are waiting around in the parking lot. Vicky and Jana are the first to approach you, as you had attached yourself more to them during the training due to your closer ages. The rest come behind them, and you try not to blush when the older players congratulate you. You probably fail. The conversation moves from talking about your game to their future duels.

By the time you realise, an hour has gone by and the chances of you making it on time for dinner are slim. Your realization must have shown in your face, as Alexia touches your arm and frowns at your expression. “All good?”

“Yeah, I just…” You are unsure whether to share your concern, why would she care? But something in the kindness she has shown during the conversation, asking for your input and making sure you felt integrated, and the openness in her expression when she asks, moves you to respond. “I was supposed to be home already, and I’m not sure when the next train that reaches my town passes.” You worry at your lip.

“Would it be okay if I drive you then? It’ll be faster.” You’re shocked at her offer.

“Ye-yeah, that would be great.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.” You’re both too busy saying your goodbyes to realize your smile has faltered and the pointed glances that Alexia is receiving.

The drive to your home is mostly silent after you give Alexia your address. She is shocked at how far away from the city it is, and you’re uncomfortable at her realization of how much time you spend commuting to training using public transport. The silence is not necessarily awkward though. The soft radio music and the constant thrum of the car settle you into a warm comfort. You feel cared for by an adult, instead of being worried about them, for the first team in a while. Alexia breaks the silence mid-way though.

“What happened last weekend? You weren’t there.” She flinches at her own tactlessness, but isn’t willing to let it go.

You squirm, not sure how much you’re comfortable sharing.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry like this, you barely know me. The girls were worried though, so I asked your coaching team and they also didn’t know. Is everything okay?” It takes you a bit to take in her words. You feel warmth at the girls’ concern, but uncomfortable at the idea of people talking about you and trying to pry about your life. You’re used to doing everything yourself, and having other people involved is weird. Still, the kindness and concern are obvious in her voice and expression, so you decide to give a bit of information in the hopes that she will understand and leave it behind.

“Just some family things. All good though, it’s solved and I’m 110% committed to the team.”

“I never thought you weren’t. Just wanted to make sure you’ve got the support you need.” That leaves you silent again. You do, right? You don’t want to worry anyone because you don’t need it. You’ve got everything under control and things are okay.

“I do! Yeah.”

“Good, good.”

You return to silence for the rest of the drive, but both of you are stuck in the other's words.

When the car comes to a stop outside your home, you’re turning around to thank Alexia for the ride but she’s opening her own door and walking towards your door. The sight spurs you o, and you run to the door to reach her before she has a chance to ring the bell.

“You don’t have to come in!” Alexia raises an eyebrow.

“Thank you for driving me, it was so nice of you but I’m all good to go from here.” You quickly add. She frowns, and looks ready to contradict you but your conversation is interrupted by the door opening.

“Good, you’re here! I heard the car coming and was unsure but I’m glad you got someone to drive you instead of catching the train so late, mi vida.” Your grandma is smiling at you from the door, and you forget about your conversation with Alexia in favor of hugging her. When you, after a few seconds, come out of the hug, Alexia’s eyes are back to a soft expression.

“Both of you, in you go! Dinner is at the table ready.”

“Uh… Grandma, this is…”

“Oh, mi vida. I know perfectly well who she is considering how much you talk about her and her career.”

You’ve already blushed a lot today, but now surely you must be the reddest so far. Alexia practically coos at the statement, proud to be a good role model for young players like you, but she’s reluctant to take your grandma’s offer.

“Thank you for the invitation but I would not want to impose on your dinner.”

“Nonsense. It’ll take too long for you to get back to the city. Stay. Dinner is with your team’s rules on diet for mi nieta so I’m sure it’s suitable for you too.”

Alexia seems to be weighing her options. She doesn’t want to impose but she does want to get a better understanding of your situation so she can give a calming response to the girls.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

As you all walk toward the living room, your grandma must notice your inquisitive looks and reluctance to ask.

“He’s all good, mi vida. We both had dinner an hour ago, and the neighbor came by to help me get him ready for bed. He’s sleeping now, don’t you worry.” You still feel guilty. You should have been here to help make dinner and make sure they took their meds and get them ready for bed.

“Now sit, both of you. I set another plate when I saw you came accompanied by car. I am gonna go to bed myself now. You both have a good night. And a safe trip back home for you Alexia.”

As she takes her leave up the stairs, the room is left silent until Alexia breaks it.

“Alright kid, let’s have dinner then.”

You’re on auto-pilot as you sit down at the table and start to eat, your mind still stuck on all the things you hadn’t been here for.

“So, are your parents out of town for the night?” You swallow audibly. You don’t like to talk about this, but you know she won’t let it go.

“No, um, no. It’s just us three.” You avoid her gaze, not wanting to see the usual look of pity you receive.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that sucks.” You can tell she’s flinching.

“It’s always been the three of us. I was a baby when they passed.” You shrug.

You dare look at her, and her expression surprises you. There’s still the pity you hate, but there’s also an understanding. Right, her dad. Your circumstances might be different, but she does know loss.

“So, um, you help around a lot then?”

“Ye-yeah.” You don’t want her to doubt your commitment to the club though. “But I make it work! I have a good grasp on my schedule and great discipline.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re such a solet.” (good kid, but also literally little sun)

She smiles so kindly at you it overwhelms you. The conversation shifts to lighter topics, about your play style, both of your future games and even sharing small glimpses of each other’s lives. When you're done, she helps you clean up the table and dishes, it only takes a few minutes with her help.

“I’m gonna go home now, I don’t want my girlfriend to wait until late for me. Please tell your grandma thank you for the meal, it was delicious, and that you have a beautiful home.”

“Yeah, of course.” You smile easily now, her presence comforting.

“And you… you’re doing well. Believe it. But please also let yourself seek help when you need it. You’re not alone. Rely on your team and your coaches. You’re just a kid, let the adults take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yes, thank you again for driving me home.” You weren’t sure how much you could let go of the tight control you held in your life, but it felt nice to be told that you weren’t alone.

“Of course, my pleasure. I am happy to help. I’ll see you soon, yeah, solet?”

And as you watch her drive out of your driveway, you cannot imagine how true that is.

~~~~~ an:

yay! thank you for reading!

first work uploaded. kinda nervous to get this out there but excited to start sharing my work. (please be nice to me)

I already have some ideas for this universe but I’ll be super happy to receive requests and asks about it, or any other universes you’d like to see from me :))

xoxo, a.c.

part 2 now up!

#barca femeni x teen!reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x teen!reader #alexia putellas imagine #barcelona femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x teen!reader #alexia x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #teen!reader #teen!oc

630 notes · View notes

zorostitties · 25 days ago

Text

Intertwined; 1

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 6k

A/N: I've had this fic in mind for ages but finally managed to squeeze the words out of my brain thanks to the encouragement of my followers 🥹 This fic is an attempt to write Luffy in love in the most beliavable/close to canon way possible. Let's hope I'll succeed :D - This is a afab!reader insert, so no physical traits will be described EXCEPT that I'm giving you reading glasses because Luffy needs to give you a silly nickname based on your appearance like he does to everybody. - If you like the fic, PLEASE interact with it so I can keep motivated to write the next parts 🥹 And per usual, English is not my first language. Enjoy!!

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

- PART 1 -

"A secret shared by us alone, a smile the wind would carry. In the yard, just you and I knew how the world was merry."

- Cecilia Meireles

➛ 8

Heavy rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the night you killed that man.

Alex Husquid was his name. A small nobleman, heir to the Husquid fortune and businesses. Born and raised at the Dawn Island, probably never left the East Blue and probably never would have wanted to, since his source of power and prestige was located here. Married to a woman called Frida. Father of three healthy boys, all around your age.

Just a common, law-abiding citizen in this god forsaken corner of the world.

But his successful whiskey business pissed someone bigger than him, which meant he had to die.

You didn’t know who your contractors were – you never did. They hid behind Den Den Mushis with voice distortion or faceless messengers. Discretion and secrecy was the soul of the business; that went both ways. The contractors didn’t know who you were either. Didn’t know your face, or your brothers’ faces, or your mother’s, or your father’s, or your grandfather’s…

No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.

Your breathing echoed inside the mask made especially to hide your small face. Your grandfather threw the runes made of bones the day you were born, and the runes said that your animal – the one that would represent your soul the most – was the wolf. And so, your mask was the image of a wolf’s face. Eerily white, contrasting with the black raincoat you wore.

The wolf is an auspicious animal, your grandfather said. Lone. Smart. Ferocious. Good to business.

The entire family expected you to honor this mask that night.

It was your first trial – the first time an assassination was assigned to you, the first time you’d have to take a commission on your own. Up until then, you’d only assist your brothers or watch them work from far. But you were eight years old now, and that was the right age to be initiated. You had trained enough. You were ready.

Just a small commission. Alex Husquid was a nobleman, but not that noble. This little and humid archipelago in the East Blue was far from being important. Not a death that would cause a stir. It honestly even felt that your father was belittling your capabilities with this commission. Why were you assigned to kill a short ugly nobleman at the end of the world, while Crowley who was only one year older got commissioned with Marines or troublesome pirates in the New World?

Because I’m the girl, you thought with resigned anger.

Well. Whatever.

It’s not like you wanted to impress them anyway. This was boring. The travel to the East Blue was boring, this commission was boring, having to stare at Landon’s ugly mustache the entire travel was boring. The only good thing that came from this initiation is that it also happened to be your birthday. The only day in the year where you had permission to do whatever you wanted.

So you just had to get this over with.

Alex Husquid was alone in his office, scribbling something on his desk. You watched him intently from the roof of the nearest house. Heavy rain fell over your head, lightnings illuminated the night sky from time to time, thunders roared. This storm would be your perfect ally.

Alex had left a breach on his window, probably to let some fresh air enter the room despite the rain.

That mistake would cost his life.

It wasn’t hard to jump from the roof into his room. Your feet made no noise when they touched the carpet. Your presence, barely a breeze from outside. But despite your best efforts, it called Alex’s attention.

Your father and grandfather had talked about it many times – and you had seen it from far, too, observing your brothers work. Humans have a weird sixth sense. They somehow always know death is near.

And death, to him, came in the form of a child.

Alex got a bit startled, but sat down again on his leather chair. All he saw was a kid wearing a white wolf mask. All he thought was that one of his sons put a funny costume to spook him.

A smile was beginning to take form on his chapped lips.

He didn’t have time to complete it.

You focused on your right hand. Your nails grew, sharpened like blades. When you launched yourself towards him, you made no noise – no disturbance in the room despite your inhumane speed, no wrinkles on the carpet. Silent. Fast. Unnoticeable. Like it should be.

Your nails slit his throat faster than his mind could comprehend. A deep cut, deep enough so he wouldn’t be able to scream. His eyes widened. He gagged in silent despair. He looked at the figure of a child standing over his desk, their face hidden behind a white wolf mask, and tears welled up his eyes.

He would be dead in a minute.

You knew it’d take a long time for anyone to find his body. The entire house was asleep. So you decided to stand there and watch until life completely left his body – until he stopped trembling, until he was soaked with his own blood, until his eyes were empty.

Just an uninhabited corpse.

Boring.

You flew out the same window you used to enter.

While landing on the nearest roof, you looked down at your right hand. Your nails were back to normal; your fingertips were bloody. You frowned. That wasn’t a clean cut. You’d have to work on that.

“Congratulations on your first solo commission, Young Mistress.”

An instinctive huff emerged from your chest. Of course, you knew he’d be around – he was always around, this boring old man. You turned around to face Landon and his annoying mustache.

The butler wore his usual boring black suit and boring white gloves and boring umbrella to protect him from the rain. Despite his words, he had the same blank expression over his features. Hell, was he boring.

“I should note, however, that you were sloppy. Your target noticed your presence. You also caused unnecessary mass bleeding. A good assassin is always–“

“Clean.” You concluded for him with annoyance.

Landon didn’t seem to care. He never seemed to care about anything.

“It’s past midnight. It is now your birthday. What do you wish to do?”

“I wish to be left alone.” You didn’t bother looking back at him as you took off your mask and shoved it inside the bag crossed around your chest. “Do not follow me.”

Landon wasn’t surprised. You spent most of your time trying to run away from him, his lessons, his unstoppable and overwhelming watch. Sometimes you managed to get some time alone. Most times you didn’t.

But it was your birthday, so today he had to obey.

Not that you’d have much to do in this boring island at this boring kingdom at the least interesting part of the ocean.

At least, you’d be truly alone for the next 24 hours.

You jumped from roof to roof away from Landon, satisfied to know that he wasn’t following you for once – and wondering if this island could entertain you in the only day of freedom you had.

The town was boring. As expected.

Small. The buildings weren’t very tall, there weren’t many nice stores or restaurants. It was even funny how the people living at this part of the island walked around with high chins and chests full of pride… their city, their properties and titles were nothing compared to the magnificent islands of the New World. But they were just simple minded creatures, you knew; they never planned to leave this place. They would never understand that the world was vast and that they didn’t matter on the grand scheme of things.

So you didn’t waste much time there.

Then there was the giant junkyard at the other side of the city, separated from it by a high wall. Mountains and mountains of trash, rubble and junk extended for maybe two or three kilometers. It smelled as bad as you’d expect and a strange gray fog hovered in the air. Gray Terminal was a suitable name, indeed.

Surprisingly, that place was a bit more interesting than the town.

Poor people gathered like vermin over meat around the junk mountains. Scavengers looking for anything valuable. In the span of maybe thirty minutes, you saw a few fights popping here and there. It was a bit entertaining to sit and watch how normal people fought. But you decided to leave not only because the place really smelled bad, but because your good clothes and your neat pigtails would probably draw unwanted attention.

So you walked into the woods nearby – and finally, things got interesting.

One or two hours of walking took you deep into the forest. It was very obviously a rainforest with the heat and humidity expected from it, which made you take your raincoat and jacket off, shoving them inside your backpack. You quickly realized you were, in fact, climbing a mountain. The human sounds were replaced with the sounds of nature – leaves shuffling, birds chirping, and the noises of many other unknown animals.

What caught your attention at first was the sheer size of the trees – the deeper you got into the mountain, the bigger they got. Some seemed to be taller than thirty meters. Some branches were thicker than actual tree trunks.

But you soon found out that the trees weren’t the only giant things there.

The floor shook beneath your feet in regular intervals. Steps of something extremely heavy.

You expanded your perception to a wider radius than what your eyes could see and your ears could hear – and came to a conclusion. Immediate danger.

You swiftly jumped up to the nearest tree, standing on its lower branch – which was still pretty high, probably eight meters away from the ground, and waited in complete silence.

What came from between the trees made your eyes widen.

A bear. But not just any brown bear. That thing was colossal. Ridiculously big. Its claws seemed to be as tall as you.

And finally, you were excited about something.

You immediately took the small notebook from your backpack and started sketching the beast, silently regretting not bringing a Den Den Mushi to take a picture of it (you knew Landon would put a tracking device on it if you brought one with you, so you decided not to). You sketched the creature as fast as you could before it could disappear inside the forest again, making quick annotations around the drawing.

You knew that many islands had strange and unique fauna and flora, though you’d only read about it in books. You’d never seen abnormal animals like that, and honestly didn’t expect to find anything like this out of the Grand Line.

A small smile grew on your lips.

Your birthday wouldn’t be that boring, after all.

You looked down at the notebook and tightened your eyes. Oh… the bear came and went so quickly that you didn’t have time to put your round reading glasses on. After taking them from the backpack, you could see with clarity that you missed many details. You sat down on the branch and made the finishing touches.

It was time to move on.

You began to feel a little hungry past noon.

Not that you weren’t used to not eating for long periods of time. A good assassin must be in control of all of their physiological necessities at all times. What if a commission takes place at a critical environment? What if you need to be undercover for long periods of time to study your target? Things like hunger should be brushed aside. You’d only eat when your body begged for it.

But you were so entertained that your rumbling belly was just an afterthought.

Only a day wouldn’t be enough to catalog all of what you’ve found. Who would’ve thought this insignificant island would have so much to offer?

Going deeper into the mountain, you saw even more strange animals. Giant tigers and more bears and alligators in a river nearby. Why did the fauna at this island became so gigantic? What must’ve happened in their evolutionary process? In the span of only a few hours, you filled more than twenty pages with sketches and notes.

Morpho menelaus, you scribbled at the top of the page while checking your Insect Encyclopedia to be completely sure. It was pretty unmistakable: the beautiful blue wings of the butterfly resting in front of your eyes couldn’t be replicated by any other species. You held your breath, made sure to not produce any sound as to not scare the butterfly away. Why didn’t I bring a Den Den Mushi?, you scolded yourself for the hundredth time. It would’ve made your life so much easier.

You were almost finishing the sketch. This butterfly had a very specific black pattern at the tip of its wings and you wanted to convey it perfectly. You rushed to catch its details before it would go away–

“What are you doing?”

You gasped and turned around in a jump.

Of course, you knew there was something approaching – but it didn’t exude immediate danger, so you assumed it was just a squirrel or something.

It definitely wasn’t a squirrel.

It was a… boy.

The stranger looked at you with round, curious dark brown eyes – so dark that they almost looked completely black. A bit shorter than you, but definitely your age; his hair was a mess of black, almost completely hidden under a straw hat that was too big for his head. His olive skin was covered with dirt, just like the rest of his clothes – a red tank top and battered jeans shorts. He had a thin curvy scar under his left eye and a bandaid over the bridge of his nose.

He blinked.

You blinked.

But slowly, your surprise dissipated. A frown set on your face.

...Boring.

You turned around. The butterfly had obviously flown away. An annoyed sigh went past your lips.

You started to walk away.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” He whined. His voice was annoyingly high pitched. You heard the tap tap of his sandals fast approaching. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”

“Do I look lost?” You groaned between gritted teeth. Why did you even answer him?

“Well, then, are you stupid?”

This made you turn to look at him.

He didn’t seem bothered by your angry face.

“Why the hell would you want to climb Mt. Colubo alone?” The boy continued. “Never seen you ‘round Foosha or downtown. You’re from High Town, aren’t you? With those fancy clothes and all?”

You went back to walking.

He followed.

“This forest is pretty dangerous, did you know that? It’s not a place for the weak.” Then what are you doing here, too?, is what you wanted to ask, but you resigned to stay silent. “It’s full of monsters and poisonous snakes and bandits. They’ll want to steal you.” More silence. “By the way, my name is–“

“Shhhh!” You shushed him angrily before jumping to the branch of a tree.

You immediately opened your notebook again and started scribbling while crouching down.

To your distaste, you heard him jump after you. “What are you–?”

“Shhhh!” You shushed more aggressively this time. “You’ll scare it away!”

The boy tilted his head to the side and finally found what you were looking at while sketching rapidly.

“Ooooh,” he was surprisingly quiet this time.

Onychocerus albitarsis, you wrote at the top of the page. Commonly known as Scorpion Beetle. The brown, black and white insect moved slowly, its long antennae scooping the wood beneath it.

“This one’s pretty poisonous, did you know that?” He said. You didn’t need to turn your head to know he was looking from over your shoulder.

“Hmm.”

“I learned it the worst way.” He hissed as if remembering the pain of the sting. “You ain’t never seen one before? There are plenty of these here.” Silence. “None at the High Town, I guess? Yeah, I don’t think these stuck up people like insects.” More silence. “Is this why you’re here? To see insects?” He leaned away slightly. “Are you some sort of insect hunter?”

You paused for a second.

Shit. He definitely saw the family crest embroidered on the back of your shirt: the red symbol of a scorpion. You were sloppy once more. No one was supposed to see that family crest.

At the same time, there was no way this boy would know what it meant, so you decided to brush it aside.

“Well, I’m a pirate.” He seemed proud of himself, a sonorous smile in his voice. “Huh, not yet, but I’ll be one day. I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!” Silence. The boy hummed after a few seconds. “You’re pretty boring, did you know that, Four Eyes?”

You whipped your head at him for the first time.

“What did you just call me?”

“Four Eyes.” He was, once again, unbothered by your ferocious glare. His eyes fell over your notebook. “But you draw pretty well. Not better than me, though. Oh! It’s gone.”

You turned back in time to see the beetle flying away.

You sighed deeply and got up again while looking at him angrily. The boy got up, too. He either didn’t understand why you were angry or simply didn’t care.

“...I only wear glasses when I need to read,” you said between gritted teeth.

He blinked.

“And?”

You rolled your eyes and jumped to the floor again.

“Where are you going now?”

“Why are you following me?” You retorted. From the corner of your eye, you saw him rest both hands behind his head in a relaxed position.

“I got nothing better to do and I don’t see other kids here often.” Then, he opened a wide grin – you could probably see all his teeth with that smile. “Let’s be friends!”

You looked ahead again, feeling your stomach twirl.

Your father’s deep voice echoed inside your mind.

A Scarpia family member does not have friends.

Friends are weaknesses. A Scarpia only needs another Scarpia.

You tightened your fists.

No one should see the face of a Scarpia family member and live to tell the next day.

If you followed these rules to a ten, you’d have killed that boy already.

It’s what your father would have wanted. It’s what your brothers would have done. You’d seen them doing that before. This weird straw hat kid had already seen your face unmasked and the family crest on your back. If Landon were here, he would even have finished him for you.

It wouldn’t be hard to kill him. He wouldn’t even notice you slicing his throat with your nails.

But…

He wasn’t a commission. You didn’t want to dirt your fingertips with blood if you didn’t need to. There was no way this boy even knew what the Scarpia family was.

So you quickened your pace without looking back.

He followed.

You started running.

He followed.

You sprinted.

“Hey!” He yelled…

And followed.

You ran in zigzag in between the trees, climbing thick vines and jumping down cliffs, trying to mislead him – but damn, that boy actually seemed to know where he was going, differently from you. He was slower, but that was definitely an advantage. Shit, stop following me! Leave me alone! Why are you following me anyway?! How are you keeping up?!

Why– why are you laughing?!

Actually laughing. Not in a mocking way. He laughed at the top of his lungs, that huge grin never leaving his face.

“I’m gonna catch you!” He yelled.

“No, you won’t!” You yelled back. Why were you yelling?

“Just you wait!” And he laughed again.

That stirred something inside you.

You focused all of your strength in your legs; you visualized the energy in your body gathering there like white lines. The burst of adrenaline. A technique to be used in an escape situation.

When you got impulse to step forward, the floor cracked beneath your feet.

You sprinted away – so fast that it almost felt like flying. The world around you went by in a confusing blur, wind howled on your ears with the speed. As you didn’t know the area, you didn’t know exactly how many meters you ran – five hundred meters? Seven hundred? Your record was nine hundred meters, and you hoped to reach a kilometer soon, preferably before Crowley could do it.

It took a lot of effort to stop.

You rested both hands over your knees, panting. That was the disadvantage of this technique: it was too tiring. You couldn’t do it more than once a day and you still didn’t know how to take turns, always sprinting on a beeline. Your father could do it as many times as he wanted and change directions in the blink of an eye. You hoped to reach his level someday.

Well. That was enough to mislead that weirdo, at least.

You straightened your back and dried your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. You had aimed north, which meant you went higher into the mountain… you’d have to find your compass inside the backpack to be sure. Luckily, you had been marking the trees as to find the way out easily–

And that’s when someone slapped the back of your neck.

You turned around in a jump, already taking a fight stance–

It was that boy.

He grinned so wide that it looked like his cheeks would rip apart.

“Tag! You’re it!” He announced before turning around and– and–

And running away.

You stood there, completely shocked, following him with your eyes.

How… how…?

Did he reach you in a minute and half?

He ran over five hundred meters in a minute and half?

Who the hell was that boy?!

He realized you weren’t following after a while. He turned around, still smiling – but confusion covered his features.

“You’re it!” He yelled from there as if reminding you.

He was distancing himself from you. You should take that opportunity to run in the opposite direction and finally get rid of him. But something made you stop – something that completely silenced the voice of reason, the voice of your father.

Curiosity.

“How did you do that?” You asked. He frowned.

“Huhhhh??” He put his hand in a shell near his ear. Oh. He was quite far.

“How–“ You cleaned your throat. Screaming was not something you were used to do. “How did you do that?!”

“Do what?!”

“Reached me so fast?!”

“Oh!” He grinned again – but there was something a bit mischievous about it this time.

You watched, confused, as the boy spun his right arm around many times.

You watched, shocked, when he threw his arm after taking impulse and it stretched.

It stretched and stretched and stretched to a tree standing by your side. He entangled his stretched arm around the trunk; his arm distended as if it was a rubber band and he came flying towards you.

You watched, jaw dropped, when he landed in front of you. His arm untangled from around the trunk and went back to normal with a very sonorous snap.

He grinned proudly.

“Like that!”

It took you a few seconds to recover.

“...You ate a Devil Fruit.”

He nodded.

“The Gomu Gomu no Mi. I became the rubber man!” He pinched his own cheek and it stretched too, before releasing it with, again, a sonorous snap. As if he needed to demonstrate it even more.

That was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t even think someone from this small island, so far from the Grand Line, would even know what a Devil Fruit is – let alone eat one.

You frowned slightly.

“My father says Devil Fruits are for the weak. Someone should be strong based on their inherent body capabilities alone.” That was hammered into your head over and over again… and you noticed with some distaste that you kind of sounded like Landon.

The boy crossed his arms. The smile never left his lips.

“Well, your father’s an idiot!”

Your jaw dropped again.

That scrawny dirty looking boy just called Scarpia Drachen an idiot.

And at that moment – something very very strange and very very unusual happened inside of you, something you couldn’t control, and it was like you could hear Landon’s annoying husky voice echoing in your ears that you should always be in control of your body and your reactions–

But you couldn’t help it.

You laughed.

You covered your mouth and bent over slightly, the other hand gripping the fabric of the shirt over your stomach. I shouldn’t laugh! This is so so so disrespectful! I will be scolded for sure!

But– But Landon wasn’t there. Or your father. Or any of your brothers.

Just the weird stretchy boy.

And he thought that was funny, too. He giggled as if proud of himself.

“By the way, how did you do that?” He asked, crossing his arms. “You ran so fast that the ground cracked! That was faster than Ace! Is that an insect hunter ability or something?”

You didn’t know who the hell Ace was and you didn’t feel like asking. You straightened your back after swallowing the laughter. “Yeah. We… we train to be faster than everybody.”

Why were you talking to him? Why did you answer his question? Why hadn’t you mislead him yet? What was wrong with you? No no no– that was wrong. You needed to get away from him as fast as possible.

But, for some reason, you didn’t move.

The straw hat boy grinned mischievously again and rubbed his hands.

“But I bet you’re not faster than me! I already know your technique, it won’t surprise me anymore!” He started walking on his back at a fast pace while still grinning at you. “C’mon, you’re it!”

But you still didn’t move.

“Do you… want me to chase you?”

“Duuuuh, that’s how it works, Four Eyes!”

You still didn’t understand.

“Why? Is this some sort of training?”

He finally stopped running.

“How come, why?” Now he looked confused. “Because it’s fun!”

The boy grinned.

It… seemed so easy for him. So obvious. Like you were the stupid one there.

...Fun?

Fun was the opposite of boring.

You weren’t bored searching for animals and cataloging them. You liked to draw, you liked to be left alone. You knew that the right thing to do would be to distance yourself.

But he was jigging from side to side excitedly and that made your heart beat faster for some reason. The same way it was beating faster when you were trying to mislead him. Because of adrenaline, you knew – that was the obvious answer. But maybe… maybe…

It was because it was fun.

You started to walk towards him. He laughed excitedly and turned around.

Then you were running.

Then you were sprinting.

He changed directions either with his legs or gripping tree trunks with his abnormal ability to drastically take turns. You ran after him, unable to use that burst of adrenaline again, but that wasn’t necessary… if you did it, you’d reach him quicker and it would all be over too soon. It wouldn’t be fun.

So you caught him without cheating. But he wasn’t angry or disappointed when you did – he just laughed at the top of his lungs and yelled, my turn!

And then you were being chased.

And then you were laughing.

And then he caught you and it was your turn to yell you’re it!

And then you were breathless and your stomach hurt from laughing but you didn’t want to stop.

Because… because it was fun.

“I wanted meat!” He whined unhappily.

You side eyed him while munching your slice of watermelon. Even though he kept complaining, he was eating his anyway – and it was a bit scary how fast he ate and how big his bites were. He was finishing his… second? Third watermelon? You weren’t counting.

When both of you got way too tired – and that took a lot: the sun was starting to set – you decided to rest for a bit and eat something. A clearing nearby had a plantation of watermelons. It was obviously cultivated by someone, but turns out he had no idea who it was or if they would mind if you’d take some. You certainly didn’t mind taking them.

You’d been sitting side by side, facing a cliff with a gorgeous view of the forest and sunset ever since.

“And how would you find meat?” You asked absentmindedly while munching.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d hunt! There are tons of weird animals here!” He took another big bite and tilted his head at you. “You’re kind of slow, aren’t you, Four Eyes?”

“My name’s not Four Eyes,” you said between gritted teeth. You didn’t even realize you were still wearing the glasses… you took them off and shoved them inside the backpack.

“What’s your name, then?”

You froze.

You hadn’t given him a name. He hadn’t told his either, even though you’d been playing for the past few hours.

But you couldn’t give him your real name. That was a basic rule: no one should see your face. No one should know your name. Every interaction with an outsider had to be calculated and well-thought out for the safety of the family.

The straw hat boy had already seen your face and the family crest.

But… it’s not like he had any idea what the Scarpia family was, right? So giving him a fake name would suffice.

“...Wolfie,” you lied after the first thing that came to mind. You immediately regretted it, realizing how silly it sounded after the made up name left your mouth, but it was too late to correct it now.

He nodded and swallowed a big bite before grinning. His mouth was all dirty with watermelon juice. “My name’s Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be the King of Pirates!”

He didn’t seem to notice how stupid your “name” sounded… great. “...You already said that.” You looked ahead again. The sky had pretty hues of pink and orange as the sun disappeared slowly behind the horizon line. The treetops swayed softly with the wind, resembling sea waves of green. “Why do you wanna be a pirate?”

Why were you asking?

You had no idea. You weren’t supposed to find more about this Luffy boy. You weren’t supposed to be interested. But at the same time – you’d never see him again anyway, so what was wrong with making a question?

Right?

“Is it for the treasures?” It should be, you remarked, given how ragged his clothes were. Well, there was nothing wrong with wanting a fortune.

Luffy’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Pirates are the coolest people in the world!” He declared, gesticulating widely and setting the half eaten watermelon aside for the first time. “They go anywhere they want, do whatever they want and take what they want! They are free!” The more he talked, the more excited he looked. “My friend Shanks– he’s a pirate, too, and he goes on all sorts of adventures. He told me about it, all the islands and people and enemies he faced!” Luffy held the brim of his straw hat softly. “I made a promise that I’d become a great pirate like him so we can meet again in the sea someday!”

You hummed quietly.

The watermelon tasted sweet, way too sweet. You took another bite and munched it slowly.

“Freedom, huh?” Your voice was just a little bit louder than the wind. “Must be nice.”

“Right?” Luffy elbowed your arm excitedly. “The world is so much bigger than Mt. Colubo or Foosha Village or the Gray Terminal. There are so many islands out there! So many weird monsters and strong guys to fight!” He tightened his hands in fists and punched an invisible enemy. “That’s why me and Ace train everyday. To get even stronger!”

You side eyed Luffy again. He had an interesting ability, you had to admit, even though you were taught to despise Devil Fruit users. And yeah, he was definitely faster and stronger than the average kid your age. But… he was far from being strong. He was very killable, in fact. If he actually wanted to go to the seas someday, he had a long way to go.

Whatever. It was none of your business.

But even so – his speech about how vast the world is was kind of… touching, in a way. You knew about that, too. You’d been to many places, following your brothers in commissions or being taken to harsh environments to train. But you’d never… paid attention to anything. Everything was just training or business. Everything was boring.

But you thought Dawn Island was boring at first too – until you had the time and freedom to explore it and find all these giant animals and insects. Until you could look closely.

Maybe he had a point.

You swallowed another bite before speaking.

“There is an island I’d like to visit someday, you know.” You started slowly. Hesitantly. Luffy was paying attention, which somehow made you nervous. You weren’t used to that – someone actually listening to you. “I mean… an archipelago on the Grand Line. The islands are full of giant insects.”

“Giant insects?!” Luffy widened his eyes. “Do you think there are giant beetles there too?!”

“From what I’ve read, yeah. Beetles larger than houses. Spiders taller than giraffes. And carnivorous plants, too, big enough to eat a person.”

The straw hat boy giggled excitedly and bounced a bit while still sitting. He seemed unable to not move for a long time, you noticed. “You could fill entire notebooks with your drawings there!” Luffy eyed you up and down with somewhat of a smug expression. “Why haven’t you been there yet, though? You don’t look broke. I bet you have enough money to travel wherever you want.”

Your shoulder dropped a bit. “The Boin Islands are far. Very very far. And… I don’t think my parents would let me.”

Because it’d be useless. A waste of money and time. It wouldn’t make you a better assassin in their opinion… so what was the point?

Luffy filled his chest and pointed at himself with his thumb proudly. “No problem. I’ll take you there when I become a pirate! My ship will be huuuge with, like, two masts and a big crew. No storms will sink us. We’ll get there and see all the giant bugs!”

For the hundredth time that day, you had the strange, instinctive reaction to giggle. You had the even stranger thought that, yeah, traveling with him would be fun.

The straw hat boy stretched his arms and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hah… the sun’s setting, I should get back before Ace gets worried.” Luffy got up and looked down at you excitedly. “Come with me, Wolfie! The forest’s even more dangerous at night, but our place is safe. We got meat for dinner, too.”

It was a bit insane how he could think of eating more after chomping so many watermelons.

But… his reminder that the sun was setting filled you with sudden sadness.

It took you hours to get to the top of the mountain… it’d take more hours to get down. If you didn’t leave now, Landon would climb it to find you – he always found you somehow – and to see you with this boy would put you in serious trouble.

It would put him in serious trouble, actually. In danger.

So you sighed and got up, too, taking the backpack from the floor and putting it on your back.

“Sorry, I have to go now.”

Luffy quirked one eyebrow. “You sure? Ain’t you gonna get lost? Is someone coming to pick you up?” He put his hands on each side of his waist. “I’m serious, the forest is really dangerous at night! Not even us go around when it’s dark!”

“I’ll be fine.” It was a bit interesting how this boy, much weaker than you, seemed so worried for your safety. That was also unusual.

You stood there awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do. You also weren’t used to goodbyes.

“Hm… I’ll… get going then.” You started to walk backwards while gripping the trap of the backpack nervously. “It was… it was nice meeting you.”

Luffy smiled and nodded. “See ya!”

You hesitated before turning around.

See ya. He probably thought he’d see you again soon. That was funny.

No. That was a bit sad.

Your eyes kept glued to the floor, shoulders dropped, as you made your way down the hill slowly. Maybe you could go back and spend a little more time with him… maybe meet this Ace he kept talking about. You could play a little more. Sketch a few more insects.

No no no. Landon was nearby. He’d kill Luffy on the spot. He had permission to kill anyone he deemed a threat to your safety or your education – and he’d do it without consulting your opinion.

It was better for Luffy to never see you again.

...Your steps slowed even more.

For the first time, you remember Alex Husquid – the man you killed as soon it turned midnight. How you stood there and watched as his eyes emptied. How it made you feel nothing but boredom. Just a commission, after all, like any other.

But why the idea of seeing that same thing happen to Luffy bothered you so much?

This… this weird short boy you met just a few hours ago?

Why did the fact that you’d never see him again made your heart tighten like that?

You suddenly stopped on your tracks.

Wait.

Maybe… maybe you could. Maybe you could see him again.

You turned around, ready to run up the hill again to find Luffy– but turns out he was still standing there, watching you go.

Your heart throbbed loudly. Your hands were sweating. That was wrong wrong wrong. But even so–

“Luffy!” You called. He smiled from far and waved. “Can I… Can I see you again next year?”

Luffy narrowed his eyes and put his hands over his knees. “Huuhhh?!”

Oh– right. You were already too far.

You tightened your hands into fists, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment, before screaming:

“Can I see you again next year?!”

This time, your voice echoed through the woods.

Luffy widened his eyes in surprise. “Next year?! That’s too long!”

You were immediately taken aback. Was he brushing you aside?

“I… I live very far!” That wasn’t a lie. “Can I come or not?!”

Luffy straightened his back.

He grinned again – one of his big, big grins, so big that his eyes closed tight, so large that you felt your own lips curving up, too.

“Of course! I’ll be waiting for you!”

Why were you bouncing a bit? Why did a light weird squeal went past your lips?

“Okay! Let’s meet right here!”

“Okay!”

“Let’s play even more next time!”

“I’ll be even faster than you!” He giggled smugly.

“No, you won’t!” Oh no– you still had to leave. You turned around slowly and waved him a last goodbye. “Bye!”

Luffy waved back excitedly.

Finally, you turned completely and walked down the hill.

Then you were running.

Then you were laughing.

It was probably because of the adrenaline, you knew, but you also knew that it was because you had fun. Because you had something to look forward to – someone to look forward to.

And that was far from being boring.

No rain fell over the Goa Kingdom the day you made your first friend.

#luffy x reader #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #op x reader #luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x you #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #op luffy #monkey d. luffy x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #mugiwara no luffy #no preview i am impatient idc idccc #PLS COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT PLS PLSSSSS I REALLY WANT TO KEEP WRITING THIS FIC BUT I WANT INTERACTIONS TOOOOO

544 notes · View notes

midnightshindig · 2 months ago

Note

OMG your Cecil X reader writings are my favorite!! Can you please do some headcanons on Cecil being married to a superhero!female!reader who’s very bubbly, naive, and a bit incompetent. People see the two of them together and they are always so shocked they are married. Cecil would for sure be the type to say “what has my silly wife gotten to this time” with a straight face on a daily basis

Cecil x Superhero!F!Reader

Oof okay requests- i'm so normal after the last episode yeah man I am chilllll

thank you for the request!!

hcs under the cut

Cecil is relatively at peace with his lot in life

He has a routine, he has a purpose, he's got people who depend on him and that's important.

He does important work and gets appreciated for it

But a man has to have a hobby

and lucky for him, he found the best of hobbies in the best of women

When you joined the GotG, it was instant sparks

You were so refreshing, a true breath of fresh air compared to the mess he'd been cleaning up his whole career

With you it wasn't "is Y/n going to start a coupe?" or "Is Y/n going to cause irreversible damage and cause a lot of casualties?" It was just a matter of seeing what you'd gotten into

Honestly, this whole superhero thing was a hobby for you as well

Your ability: Cartoon Logic, is relatively OP, allowing you to get into all types of mischief

The only stipulation to your powers is that they only work as part of a punchline, so you have to be reaaaaal funny to actually use your abilities.

So Cecil will hear about you pieing supervillains in the face with hidden detonators inside, comedically exploding your enemies from

And he can't help but sigh wistfully

You add a touch of whimsy to an otherwise fraught situation, you're always there to brighten his day

This expands to other things, not just fighting

You routinely hit Cecil with a zap handshake

or using hammer space to pull out random gifts and doo dads to give him, such as a flower or new tie clip

"Oh shit- Y/n, honey, I forgot my wallet..." he watches you, smiling

both of you know he only does this to watch you reach behind your back

your back which is bare except for the dress on your figure

and pull out a random fistful of cash from god knows where

"I got it!" you grin goofily, straightening out the bills and laying them on the table

You could probably end food insecurity, but that wouldn't be comedic, would it?

Cecil notices all your odd little mannerisms

humming to yourself, walking on your toes, the way you jingle when you walk and he can never discern which part of your outfit is making the noise

all the way down to the way you comedically squeak like a chew toy when a supervillain lands a hit on you

It's so hard to take your health seriously when you squeak oh my god-

Cecil over here at the GDA trying to keep a straight face

he only laughs because he ultimately knows you're fine and can take whoever it is on

You're a great dancer, following your fancy wherever it takes you and having a very graceful pattern of motion

Cecil had spy training when most people were out clubbing and learning these dance skills

He.... let's just say Robot dances smoother than Cecil.

but he loves the way you dance around the house, doing whatever it is you're doing that morning

You're always humming something or another under your breath and he's always mesmerized, trying to place the tune as you invent it

Cecil's favorite thing

and I mean his favorite thing at all

is when he's having a stressful day at work, but not something that he can throw himself into

too many supervillain attacks, too much paperwork, so much to do

and then Donald or some assistant will come into his office and inform him that you've gotten into an altercation with a supervillain

he turns on his personal tv to watch the fight in the background, amused by the sounds of you walloping some poor guy for trying to kill the president or rob a bank or something

it relieves him to be able to take a mental break from his work to see you on the field

two people who love each other working for the same ideal

it warms his heart

#invincible #invincible show #invincible fanfic #invincible season 3 #invincible x reader #cecil stedman #invincible cecil #cecil stedman x reader #cecil invincible #cecil x reader

418 notes · View notes

inosukijiro · 1 year ago

Text

✮⋆˙ giyuu has a crush

𝘀𝘆𝗻. ━ giyuu is wholeheartedly in love with you.

⟡ 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 .ᐟ no bc i am making this man a pathetic simp for you idc. im writing these with myself in mind so yk, i have to pour out my feelings. and also i need to get all this giyuu writing off my chest, its actually a problem the fixation i have on this man but no fics tickle my brain just right so i have to write them myself

⟡ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 .ᐟ none. giyuu might be a little ooc. modern reader in kny. i rewrote this a few times so pls be nice 🤧. 1.4k words.

─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅𖦹⋅⋆ ───

Giyuu actually doesn’t know how this occurred. No, actually that was a lie. He knew how this happened, but didn’t at the same time. And honestly speaking, the man does not care at all. You were so nice and sweet to Giyuu it made his head spin. Like it makes him ill in the best way imaginable. He doesn’t understand why you want to be around him so much, why you want to be his friend – not that he minds – but he just can’t get past his own indiscretions about himself. That was until you told him to his face.

You tell him that you thought he was cute – I'm sorry? – and you liked how calm he was – really? His brain can’t compute anything that you say. He doesn’t know if you need any medical assistance or he’s just dreaming. But it makes you laugh. The cute, dumb look on his face as he stands there, gaping at you like a fish.

It wasn’t like it was new information. You did enjoy his company the most. He was very quiet and by no means were you either, but you have this habit of matching the energy of people you were with. So, it was almost relaxing and refreshing spending time with Giyuu. Though Giyuu is silent most of the time, he does in fact talk. At first it's about a mission he was on recently, if and most likely when he gets more comfortable with you, he’s talking a little more in depth about random things that are on his brain. It's endearing really. Or sometimes he’s just talking about things that he thinks you might like to know, random facts, and so on.

But sometimes you do the talking and he likes that too. You could talk for hours and he could listen to every word you have to say. He would soak it up like a sponge as you focus your eyes on the crochet hooks weaving in front of you. Your voice is quiet and nice, soft and warm sounding.

This typically happens when you visit his estate. And you visit his estate a lot. Maybe Giyuu was a little disappointed that you weren’t staying with him, but he knows that he shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds. He’s lucky enough to see you this much, as much as he's lucky to see you at all. He can’t be too mad though. Mitsuri has jumped you the first moment she got when the Master had brought up your living arrangements. You had nowhere to go. And honestly, Giyuu may have been a little relieved that Mitsuri of all people had gotten to you first.

He really wouldn’t have minded if it had been Rengoku or Gyomei. For obvious reasons, Rengoku would be happy to have him stopped by and probably Gyomei too, because it seems like they don’t have a bone to pick with him. Honestly speaking, he wouldn’t have minded Muichiro either, though the boy would have probably forgotten your existence within the day. But any of the others, the thought made his skin crawl for plenty of reasons. Maybe it was because it would have become a hassle, or he would be harassed every time he went to visit you. Yes, it does seem on par with him that might just avoid you so you don’t get verbally assaulted like he does if you were to associate with him. But he was a lonely, pathetic man who was enamored with you at first glance the minute you showed up out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that the stars had aligned so nicely for him – even if he felt he didn’t deserve it.

His only issue with the arrangement was Obanai. The man had almost butchered him on numerous occasions just for showing up to the Love estate. Even if he wasn’t there for Mitsuri, the Serpent Hashira didn’t seem to care. Maybe it was funny the first few times – it actually wasn’t – but you really couldn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. Obanai was wearing you thin with his commentary. Everytime Giyuu was around, it was like the others just couldn’t help themselves by making a comment insulting the man. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to disrespect a Hashira, especially if four of them were in the room with you, but Giyuu was here to see you, and it was almost like insulting Giyuu was an insult to you for wanting to spend time with him.

Mitsuri was okay with Giyuu coming to visit you, she actually encouraged it. So watching Mitsuri stand behind you while you gave Iguro a piece of your mind was something Giyuu didn’t know he needed to see until then. And maybe he did allow himself to feel a little selfish and smile mentally. He still remembers how Iguro had this look of disdain on his face, simultaneously looking like a scolded child and embarrassed because this was happening in front of Mitsuri.

Giyuu wondered if you caught the look that Obanai and Kaburamaru were giving you – if looks could kill and all that – but that was stupid. You most certainly did and just didn’t care enough. And Giyuu also wonders just what kind of sorcery you have, because he did hear you mention Sanemi by name at some point and now he's not bothering him as much, especially when you are around.

It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, not like he had ever done anything about it in the past. He never really had the heart to correct anyone in their assumptions of him, he never really thought he had to. Though, that mainly was because he thought he deserved such mistreatment. Regardless, it didn’t matter how he felt about it and himself. If you enjoyed his company that much to defend him, he was going to provide as much of it as you wanted. But there was something about it that made his heart swell a little bit bigger and flooded him with enough warmth that you could have mistaken it as him having a fever.

Now here the two of you were, sitting outside the Water Estate. You both had taken your places by the koi pond Giyuu has. It's so calm and cool. The soft moving of water could be heard every time the wind blew just enough, as well as the sharp sound of water splashing because some fish got too close to the surface.

Giyuu isn’t losing himself as he stares at the pond, watching the fish move around. He finds himself mesmerized though, as you talk. It’s nice, as usual. He likes how you talk and the way you talk. He could listen to you for hours and never get tired of hearing you. And he knows that if he glances at you now, even briefly, he wouldn’t be able to look away. You just look so… wonderful. It makes him dizzy. But he has such a weak will to do so, and now he's staring at you. Eyes soft and relaxed. He has never felt so content.

Giyuu doesn’t know if he realizes what kind of situation he is in. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s finally realizing just how much of an effect you have on him. He likes you. He likes you beyond anything in the world. He loves you and everything about you.

You don't notice him staring. You’re too busy weaving the crochet hook in and out of your craft. You make it look so effortless. So enjoyable. And you seem so happy crocheting away as you speak. The way you talk and do it at the same time, you're so smart. You have to be. And Giyuu can’t help but hope you don’t look up. You’re as mesmerized with your work as he is with you. He would die though, if you caught him. The thought makes him sweat almost, being so close to you like this. His hands are clammy, and he's never been this nervous.

Yeah, he definitely has it bad for you. And for the first time in a while, even despite his nerves, he found the corners of his lips curling upwards, in a soft and timid smile. He averts his eyes, almost to gather his bearings, but that isn't enough. The subtle flush creeping onto his cheeks betrayed him. But he couldn’t be more delighted.

⟡ .ᐟ thank you for reading !

1K notes · View notes

fluemsiie · 3 months ago

Text

fit in [ d. winchester ]

synopsis. you’re no longer useful to the winchesters notes. 1.1k words, angst, fluff— comments & rbs appreciated.

“it’s honestly ridiculous.” sam smiles, nodding. you know he’s not exactly listening but there’s more pressing matters. like the fact that dean is going home with yet another woman. it’s like no matter what you do, there’s no winning.

after things have settled down— relatively, you thought he’d enjoy being at the bunker more; hanging out with his brother, seeing cass, seeing you. but it just all went to crap. dean’s back to hunt after hunt and the celebratory sex that comes after. the one with any hot woman in the nearest bar.

“sam, i’m serious.” he knows you are, he just can’t find it in him to care too much. he’s already told you the only way to fix this is to tell dean how you feel and you’ve rejected the idea every single time.

he parks the mustang in the garage, killing the engine. “look, dean’s doin’ what he wants because you never said anything. i’m not saying to tell him how you feel, but tell him you don’t like it at least.”

you’re about to argue again, sam can see it, but the look on his face stops you in your tracks. he doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this; dean’s his brother and you’re his friend, he doesn’t need to keep listening to you say you’re in love with his brother.

despite what sam might think, your feelings towards him will never change, no matter what happens with dean. even if he rejects you so horribly that you never leave your house again, you'll make time to call sam and tell him you’re fine and ask about him. he’s been your best friend since forever, that can’t change.

“finally!” you both jump, hands already on your guns and sam’s is even half way pointed at the sound before you both sigh. “woah, what’s with the not so warm welcome?”

“weren’t you with the blond bimbo?” you immediately wince after the words leave your mouth and try to make it better before he shakes his head.

“she admitted she drank more than a few when we got to her place.” you furrow your eyebrows, not sure what that means. dean’s a great guy and you’re aware he’d never force himself on anyone, nevermind take advantage of an intoxicated girl. but he was drunk too, and the girl was fine if dean didn’t notice till she told him— why would dean just leave? “you don’t need to look at me like that.” he scoffs.

“no, dean, of course that’s not what i meant—”

“i know what you meant.” he walks back into the bunker and just as you’re about to look beside you at sam to ask what the hell just happened, but he’s already shutting the car door and you’re left alone in the garage.

you can’t wrap your head around the boys’ seldom reactions. it has to mean more than what was said, right? is this their way of saying you overstayed your welcome?

it would make sense, now that there’s no more danger because amara left, they don’t need your witchy assistance and even if they did, they know you’d come running back the second they ask, you don’t need to live with them.

the duffel bag on your bed fills up quicker than you initially thought— and with it your eyes brim with tears. you didn’t think you had such little impact on the boys, especially because they mean the world to you. they helped you figure out your magic and even if it wasn’t for the best reasons in the beginning, you became their friend in the end.

you thought they liked you. you especially thought dean liked you. but you’re wrong, you’re just plain wrong and now crying on a bed that doesn’t belong to you in a home that isn’t yours.

someone knocks on the door and you quickly dry your eyes, throwing the bag under the bed hastily. dean makes his way into your room before you tell him to come in. “hey, sweetheart.”

he’s smiling, like nothings wrong at all and you can’t find it in you to do anything but mirror his reaction. but he quickly noticed your red eyes. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“i’m leaving.” you mumble, standing up. his eyebrows furrow and when he looks you up and down, he notices the strap of the bag peeking from under the bed. he grabs it and throws it onto the bed. “i, uh, yeah. tonight, probably.”

“why on earth would you…”

“i just think it’s time, you know?” this is exactly what dean wants, you repeat in your head. but he’s also a good man, and he won’t do it himself so you’re gonna make it seem like your idea.

“no— no, god, no. why is it time— what time? what’s wrong with staying here with me and sam?”

“it’s just not my home, dean.”

“why? you’ve lived here for four years. how much longer before you decide it’s your home?” you shrug, sniffling and his eyes quickly snaps to your face. “do you even want this? you’re crying.” he emphasis the last word, pointing to your entire body and you let out a frustrated sigh.

“i know i’m crying, it’s fucking embarrassing. look, i just know i need to—”

“you don’t need to do anything. you can stay here.”

“and help with what? amara’s gone, the mark’s gone—”

“i’m still here!” you… don’t even know what that means. “i’m here and you’re trying to leave me. why? what’s so horrible about living with me? with us?”

“nothing, i just don’t fit anymore.” when you look up to study his face, he’s never looked so confused. it takes a second for either of you to move but dean quickly pulls you in closer, his lips against yours. he doesn’t waste time, swallowing your gasps and mumbles of his name.

and when he decides to let go of the assault on your lips and pulls back, you’re the one confused. “do you fit now? will you stay?”

it all crashes down on you in a horrible pile. you push him away and shake your head. “you kissed me to get me to stay? i’m a phone call away, dean, if something shows up and threatens to kill you, i’ll come back, but you can’t play around with my feelings—”

“what? no, no,” he closes the space that you added between the two of you, “stop it, that’s not why i did it. i like you, i’m—” he struggles for a second before letting out a frustrated noise and kissing you again. this time you melt into it.

this time he melts your worries away.

546 notes · View notes

rue-isabelle · 6 months ago

Text

Aphrodite of Formula 1

Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.

---

Charles and Alexandra

Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.

Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.

Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”

Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.

Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”

“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.

Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.

---

Carlos and Rebecca

Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.

“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.

“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”

Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”

Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.

Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...

She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”

“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.

Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.

---

Max and Kelly

Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.

“Max,” Kelly said sharply.

He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.”

Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”

“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”

Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”

Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”

Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.

Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.

---

Oscar and Lily

Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.

“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.

Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”

“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”

Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”

“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”

---

George and Carmen

Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.

“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.

George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”

Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)

“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.

George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.

---

Pierre and Kika

Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.

Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.

Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.

Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.

They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.

---

Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.

When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”

Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”

Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”

She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.

Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.

Part 2. Part 3

#formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader #pierre gasly x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russel x reader #the WAGS know their boyfriends are in love #jealous!alexandra saint mleux #jealous! kelly piquet #lesbian!rebecca donaldson #rebecca would leave carlos for yn

787 notes · View notes

tpwk-formula1 · 8 months ago

Note

lando, gluten free, red sauce, onions, chicken, gouda cheese, mozzarella, pulled pork, kale with a sprite, black tea and green tea with dessert please <3

im imagining reader working for his team and they can't stand each other but always end up in each others beds somehow, he catches her flirting w another guy and although he usually wouldn't care for some reason he gets really jealous and has to remind her he's the only one that can have her ? do w this as you wish hehe

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex onions "I saw you being a little slut" chicken "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” mozzarella “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" kale "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" sprite size kink black tea choking green tea doggy dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x fem! reader

TW - MEAN ASF Lando, crying, choking, 2 ass slaps, creampie, ROUGH sex, honestly just all the warnings :) MDNI 18+

WC 3000+ (sorry I got really into this one!)

Y/N POV

"Lando, you have filming for Quadrant today," I remind Lando softly making him roll his eyes.

"i know my own damn schedule," Lando snapped making me roll my eyes back at him.

"Then why do you need a fucking assistant," I say while throwing my hands up in defeat.

"I don't fucking know. I thought it would be a good idea, instead, I got stuck with you," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes and get everything together that Lando would need for the Quadrant video.

"I love to see you try and live a week without me hounding on your ass," I snap back while placing Lando's backpack by the front door so he didn't forget it while also getting his lunch together knowing he would leave without eating if I didn't do it.

"I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, give me the rest of the week off. I'll be back Monday morning and if you survived then I'll quit no questions asked, but if you don't then you will learn how to respect me and not be an absolute dick to me," I tell him while pulling his food back down onto the counter no longer preparing him food.

"Deal. It's Thursday which means I only have to survive 4 days, I can manage," Lando replied back making me smile and head to the front door to leave.

"Bye, don't be scared to call when you inevitably need help," I say while exiting and heading back to my own apartment.

I spent the rest of my day relaxing and enjoying my time away from Lando knowing tomorrow was gonna be a new day and he was probably gonna call tomorrow when he realized my job wasn't useless like he always liked to claim.

It was Friday at noon and by now I would normally be with Lando planning what his next week would look like but instead, I'm laying out on a yacht with Oscar.

Oscar and I had always been close. We both started the same year and both bonded over being so young working for McLaren and further bonded when I would rant to him about how Lando was treating me.

"Hold on I'm getting a call," I sit up softly picking up my phone to see who was calling.

I showed Oscar the caller ID making both of us smirk and laugh softly.

"Couldn't even go 24 hours," Oscar mutters making me laugh a little harder before I answer the call.

"Why are you with him," Lando seethed the second I answered my phone.

"Oh, quit it Lando. Do you need me or are you just interrupting my weekend off," I snap back at him having no patience for his jealous ass.

"Get your ass back to my apartment," Lando snapped back making me roll my eyes.

"Lando if this isn't for work related issues then I will not be coming over until I am done hanging out with my friend," I reply back emphasizing the word friend.

"Y/N I swear to God if you don't get you ass to my apartment in the next hour you will lose your job," Lando said back.

"And you're gonna tell Zak what exactly? 'I want her removed from my team cause she was hanging out with Oscar and I was a jealous twat who couldn't get my dick wet.' Sounds real mature Lando Norris. I will come over later tonight," I tell him finalizing my plan before hanging up on him before he could say anything else.

"I don't understand why you won't make it official," Oscar says with a raised brow making me raise my brow mirroring his actions.

"He's inmature and doesn't know what he wants," I tell Oscar softly climbing back onto the couch so Oscar and I can continue soaking up the sun.

"I just know he's call Max to use his yacht right now to track your ass down," Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh.

"Probably," I reply honestly.

"You ever gonna put him out of his misery and become his?" Oscar asks making me think hard before answering.

"I don't know. Definitely not until he starts respecting my work," I tell Oscar softly making him nod his head.

"I think that's fair. Maybe this weekend will open his eyes to realize how much you do for him. Going above and beyond what is in your job description," Oscar replies back making me smile, happy he understands.

"Hell, I too wouldn't want to share you if you prepared my lunches, made sure I had time allotted for a break, and spent the night in my bed," Oscar says smirking at the last part making me roll my eyes.

Oscar and I had a teasing relationship closer to siblings than lovers and it was refreshing to be close with someone in this crazy life we both live.

"You're an ass for that, Piastri," I say while laughing softly.

We spent the rest of the afternoon tanning and enjoying each others calm presence before we decided to dock and head back to our individual apartments.

"Better not find out I'm gonna be an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," Oscar says with a smirk across his face making me roll my eyes and close the door to my apartment while Oscar walks the rest of the way to his.

Lando, Oscar and I all live in the same building making it easy to have group dinners or see each other when we are getting bored or lonely.

I hadn't even been back to my own room for 5 minutes when I hear a pounding on my front door making me roll my eyes knowing it could only be one person making such a scene.

"Open the door," I hear Lando say in a sing-song voice being far more menacing than I would prefer.

"What is your damn problem," I snap when I swing open the door making Lando shove his way through the door before taking my neck into his big hands and squeezing choking me slightly while he pushes me against the door.

"I saw you being a little slut. All cuddled up with Oscar in the middle of the water," Lando says getting closer to my face and showing me just how upset he is.

"You know damn well it's not like that," I snap back getting just as angry at him.

"Do I know that though? Cause between fans spying on yall and your own snap story it looks like you were dressed into next to nothing cuddled right up to Oscar's side," Lando scoffs back squeezing my throat a bit tighter making it more difficult to breathe.

"You're ridiculous you know that," I say while gripping his wrist trying to pry his grip off of me. Lando finally releases my neck but quickly grips my hard into a death grip and yanks me through my apartment where he dumps me near the bed.

I was on the floor when Lando situates me onto my knees before he quickly pulls his pants down with his briefs leaving his hard cock to bounce freely between us.

"Don't make me fucking tell you want to do," Lando snaps when I make no move to take him into my mouth,

"You're pathetic," I mutter softly before I take Lando into my mouth. I knew he heard me when his hands were on the back of my head again pushing his whole length into my throat making me gag and instantly start to tear up.

"I'm fucking pathetic? You're the one crying on my cock less than 10 seconds after giving it to you. Bet your fucking pussy is weeping too," Lando says while holding my head in place and brutally fucking into my mouth making me repetitively take him into my mouth. Once Lando has fucked my face for a few seconds he shoves his whole length into my mouth and holding me on his cock for several seconds making me gag and cry around his cock hitting his hips trying to get away from his brutal attack.

Once Lando pulls out of my mouth I yank my head away best as possible while I gasp and cough for air.

"Not so rough," I whisper softly through my hoarse voice.

Lando just pulls me back onto his cock and starts fucking my face again. Still rough but nowhere near as rough as he had been.

“All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it,” Lando grunts while still pumping his cock into my mouth. I can feel my tears have completely soaked my cheeks and my own spit in starting to trail down the front of my neck making me look like a proper used-up whore.

"God, I love destroying you," Lando says smirking when he pulled me off his cock leaving me to heave in heavy breaths while he stared down at my ruined face.

"Look most beautiful when you're wrapped around my cock," Lando whispers with a smirk before softly biting my earlobe making me whimper at the feeling.

Lando helps me to my feet where he quickly pulls the swim suit cover I was wear off leaving me in my bikini I had been wearing. I cringed slightly when Lando was eyeing my bikini.

"Turn around," Lando says roughly making me turn in curiousity. When Lando got a view of my ass he instantly slapped it leaving a large hand print behind.

"For someone who says Oscar and you aren't more than friends you're leaving far too little for his imagination. You think sweet little Oscar could destroy your pussy even half as good as me," Lando says stepping closer to my back making me rest softly against him.

"No Lando, only you. You literally fucking ruined me for anyone else," I cry out in confession. It had been true, ever since Lando and I got involved I hadn't been able to finish with anyone but Lando. Even my trusted vibrator was now useless.

"Oh is that true?" Lando says clearly a smirk laced in his voice.

"Yes, I literally can't even make myself cum anyone," I confess in pure annoyance at the situation.

"I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you," Lando says while turning me back around so I can see his face.

"I hate you," I whisper back.

"That's a fucking lie and we both know it," Lando whispered back getting closer to my mouth before finishing his sentence by kissing my lips.

I whimper into the rough kiss when I feel Lando start pulling at the strings of my bikini leaving me completely bare for Lando's rough hands to continue to explore my body.

When I feel Lando's large hands grip my ass I whimper out that quickly turns into a strangled cry when he roughly lands a slap on my ass.

"That side was jealous," Lando says smirking against my lips.

Lando roughly pulls his shirt off leaving him completely naked before he roughly throws me onto the bed where I bounce a couple times before Lando is gripping onto my foot and pulling me into him where he is kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

My pussy was now at face level with Lando who wastes absolutely no time to pull my clit into his mouth and start eating me out like a starved man.

"Oh fuck Lan," I moan softly when I feel Lando slowly slip two fingers into my pussy.

"Fuck, so fucking sweet," Lando groans before standing up and towering over my body and spitting into my mouth making me gasp in shock.

"Fuck I love when you're like this," Lando groans getting back onto his knees and continuing to eat my pussy out like a starved man. When he puts his fingers back into my pussy he's not nearly as gentle this time. He quickly shoves them in finding my G-spot with no trouble and attacking it.

"Oh my god Lando," I scream out and clench around him in preparation for the orgasm I can feel building in the pit of my stomach.

"Please Lan," I moan when I can feel myself on the edge of cumming. But instead of Lando giving me permission like I thought he would he rips his fingers and mouth away ripping my orgasm away with them.

"Lando what the actual fuck," I heave sitting up slightly only to be pushed back down.

"Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" Lando says with a smirk making me want to slap him across the face. Instead I just clench my hands at my side.

"Lando please," I finally beg out when I calmed down. Lando didn't say anything he just roughly flipped me onto my stomach before he pulled me onto all fours and pushed his dick into me.

Lando gave me no time to adjust, he just quickly started fucking into my tight pussy making me whimper.

"Too big," I gasp when I finally find my voice making Lando speed up his actions on my pussy.

"You can fucking take it," Lando says snapping his hips into mine making me whimper at the hard thrusts.

Lando pulls me up by me hair so he was still fucking into me but my back was now pressed against his chest where he moves his hand from my hair to my neck and giving it a hard squeeze making my eyes tear up again from the choking.

"Close," I gasp in a stranged moan not being able to breathe fully.

"Cum on my cock," Lando roughly states making me instatly start cumming all over his cock.

"Fuck Lando," I moan through my orgasm while Lando squeezes hard on my throat completely cutting my airflow off as I'm cumming only making it that much more intense. When my orgasm ended only then did Lando release my throat making me gasp for air.

"Lando," I scream when he continues to fuck into me as I fall out of his arms and back into doggy position.

"Please Lan, it's too much," I whine losing all fight I once had in my body.

"You can take it, love," Lando tells me softly while slowing his thrusts to let me catch my breath for a second.

"So pretty all fucked out," Lando mumbles before speeding his thrusts up and continuing to fuck into my overused pussy.

"Faster," I beg when I feel another orgasm starting to build up again. This one coming in far faster and stronger than the previous one.

"Cum for me," Lando grunts when he can feel my pussy clenching for another release. I instantly cum all over his cock again barely able to hold my body up anymore. I would have completely fallen into the bed had Lando not been holding me up by the hips.

Lando continues his hard and fast thrusts even after I have come down from my orgasm making me cry out again in overstimulation.

"Slow down," I scream out only making Lando speed up.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Lando grunts out before sending one final thrust into my pussy before I feel his hot cum start splashing my walls letting me know Lando was cumming deep into my pussy.

"Oh Lan," I gasp and fall half onto the bed while my legs dangle over the side. When Lando was slipping out of my pussy he made sure to pull out slowly to make sure to not overstimulate me further.

"Don't leave," I gasp when I watch Lando start retreating into the bathroom making him turn around and lock eyes with me.

"I'm gonna leave you. I'm just gonna grab something to clean you up," Lando tells me softly before disappearing into my bathroom and grabbing a rag before coming back into my room and cleaning my sore pussy up softly.

"Hurts Lan," I whine when he brushes against my sensitive clit with the rough rag.

"I'm sorry," Lando mumbles sheepishly.

I feel Lando observing me while I slowly climb into bed properly getting under my covers and pulling my blanket up to my chin as I watch Lando throw on his boxers before picking up his shirt and softly placing it on me.

"Thanks," I reply softly as Lando climbs into the bed next to me.

"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. Now you're sitting here all pretty and blissed out," Lando tells me softly making me smile up at him.

"I don't like the way you dismiss my work," I tell him softly finally opening up about my feelings.

"I could barely survive today, please come to work with me tomorrow," Lando says turning his body towards me so I can look at him.

"Fine, but you better start having some respect for me all the time, not just during post nut clarity," I tell him back making him blush just thinking about what just transpired between us.

"And you owe me a plan B I promised Osc he wouldn't become an uncle in 4 to 6 weeks," I tell Lando making the both of us start laughing.

"Deal, and I promise from now on I promise I'll stop being condescending and undermining you. I realized how much you really do for me. I didn't eat until dinner cause I forgot about a meeting and had no time to grab anything," Lando confesses making me smile and laugh lightly.

"Didn't even realize I was such a pain that you were feeding me too," Lando admits hiding his face in my neck due to embarrassment.

"And I wanna work on us. I wanna build a better friendship between us so one day I can make you mine," Lando says once he pulls his face from my neck.

"I would like that Lando," I admit softly before pulling his face close to mine and giving him a soft kiss.

"I wanna keep doing this though and maybe sometimes not so rough," I tell Lando making him break out into a blushing smile.

"Deal. I would love to spend my time worshipping your body," Lando tells me softly making me turn red.

648 notes · View notes

rae-writes · 1 year ago

Text

part-time

N.M || 0.8k || some romcom for a man I don't even have any solid thoughts/feelings on but the inspo slapped me in the face. violently.

You would think that after attending Yuuei for three years now and being classmates for said three years with dumbasses like Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijiro, and Izuku Midoriya (yes, class 3-A’s golden boy. You just have to catch his dumbassery at the perfect time) that you would learn to…not engage in their ideas that lack common sense.

But either you haven’t learned or you just don’t have any self preservation, because that’s exactly how you got here:

Pulling open the door to the infirmary, mumbling curses under your breath (still grinning, might you add— it had been funny as shit, even if you got a sprained arm for the trouble). Though, as you looked around, Recovery Girl didn’t seem to be around.

But Neito Monoma was.

“Oh, fuck no.”

Listen, you honestly didn’t have a real problem with Monoma. He was just…

A prick. All because your class starts with an ‘A’ and had its fair share of spotlight encounters (mainly with villains— all of which were highly unwanted, thank you very much).

“It’s so good to see you, too, Y/n.” Monoma’s annoyingly condescending voice managed to come out sickly sweet, immediately making you turn around and start to go right back out the door.

But unfortunately, he’d caught sight of your swelled arm- which had started to bruise pretty badly- and stopped you from relieving yourself of his presence.

“Now, now. I am here assisting our lovely Recovery Girl and I can’t just have you leaving while still injured, that would make me look like I’m not doing my job.”

You deadpanned, reluctantly sitting on the edge of one of the beds. “No offense, and by that I mean full offense, but I’d rather just walk it off than let your lips come anywhere near me.”

His copy quirk is what allowed him to help out as a healer in the first place— and Recovery Girl’s quirk healed by kisses. You’d be damned if you were letting him have the privilege of kissing even a sliver of your skin.

“Oh my, so rude. You’re breaking my heart.” His grin was a little too smug, but Monoma couldn’t help it. He’s had a stupid crush on you since year one: this opportunity was just too perfect.

Not that he would ever admit it. Especially the part where his heart was fucking racing faster than Iida could run right now.

“Good. Perish.” you groaned, looking away with an apprehensive frown. Your arm was starting to hurt as the adrenaline slowly wore off and…you did come all the way to the infirmary to get healed…

Was it weird that your heart was thudding in your chest? You barely even knew Monoma, for fucks sake, he was just…an academic rival at best.

‘And pretty.’ Your brain supplied. To which you promptly told it to shut up…which it didn’t, because Monoma’s pretty face was currently all up in your business.

“That arm of yours looks painful. Are you really too prideful to be healed by me? That’s not a good heroic quality, you know.”

He sincerely hoped you would cave before he just started begging— and the embarrassing part is, Monoma wouldn’t have to even think twice about it. That’s how..tightly you have him wrapped around your finger.

“Shut up. You’re one to talk about pride, smug bastard.” Your words didn’t really have the bite that you intended- and you could feel your cheeks starting to burn- so with another colorful curse, you relented.

“Fine.”

Except no kiss came after your agreement. You’d even tensed up your arm in preparation for his touch but there was nothing. That was funny— he was so smug just a second ago and now he’s all quiet.

“Monoma, are you gonna heal me or not-“

As soon as your head turned towards him, his lips pressed against yours. It was as shocking as seeing Bakugo Katsuki be nice, which was pretty damn high up on the ‘what the fuck is happening’ list.

But it felt…good.

Monoma himself was surprised, not at his actions, but at your own: the reciprocation of his kiss (when he was so sure you’d pull away and knock his block off), the way your hands- both of them now that your arm was healing- had cupped his jaw, pulling him closer.

It was like the room was spinning, but..softly. With warmth being woven in, making you feel fuzzy starting from the tips of your toes and moving all the way to your fingertips.

When the kiss finally broke, it was quiet, only unsure breaths filling the air. Oddly enough, he felt nervous and had to fight the urge to apologize.

“Well? How was that for healing?” Is what came out of his mouth instead.

And you didn’t even have a witty response to give back, too dazed and flustered to even care at that second.

“Do it again…still hurts.”

‘Academic rivals’ be damned.

inspo credits:

(I found the text post on Pinterest so I just screenshotted it because who knows how old it may be oasjihrugoajfk but their user is still the same: @energon-with-a-curly-straw)

#mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #neito monoma x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha drabble #bnha drabble

932 notes · View notes

galactic-magick · 5 months ago

Text

A Proper Date: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Viktor wants to take you out on a proper date. Sequel to my fic "The Handsome Assistant."

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: mostly just fluff, some mentions of suggestive stuff towards the end

Author's Notes: Reworked my Arcane masterlist to reflect the reading order for my Vik fics that are in the same continuity, and future fics will now be added to it in the correct order. Thank you guys for all the love it really means the world to me!

Life is sweet ever since Viktor’s been in it—and even more so now that you get to kiss him every day.

In all honestly, your routine hasn’t drastically changed. You still distract each other at work way too much, and he still keeps you in conversation long past when you should go home. But now you also stop by each other’s apartments, cook for each other, and spend late nights together in the Academy library and labs working on projects.

Your roommates love him, letting him in even if you’re out doing errands at the moment. Today is one of those days, a bright smile stretching across your face when you see him upon arriving home.

“Viktor!” you drop your things and skip into his arms. You look down and see he’s dressed up a bit more than usual, and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’ve been wanting to take you on a proper date,” he says. “We can go whenever you’re ready.”

“Vik, you know I don’t need fancy dates—“

“Hush.” he presses a finger to your lips. “Go put on something nice, alright?”

You nod, rushing back to your room to change. You meant what you said, you really haven’t minded never having a “proper” date. Neither of you make a ton of money, really just enough to live on and maybe a tiny bit leftover, so you’ve never expected to be taken out to restaurants or really any sort of activity you have to pay for. Most times your dates are making dinner for each other after work, Viktor making you the delicious recipes of his ancestors, mainly. Other times you just people-watch out in the city, chatting about anything and everything. You honestly would do anything with him no matter what it was.

Viktor’s eyes soften at the sight of you when you return to him, taking your hand to leave.

When you approach where you’re going, your grip on his hand tightens and your jaw drops.

“Viktor, you didn’t…”

Your gaze falls onto one of the fanciest restaurants in Piltover, complete with live music and an open ceiling with a perfect view of the stars, both things he knows you love.

“Viktor, this is too much,” you whisper, still flabbergasted. “I would never ask you to pay for a place like this.”

“What makes you think you would have to ask?” he chuckles, pulling you inside. “I’ve been saving up to take you somewhere nice.”

The inside is truly gorgeous, no doubt full of decorative items that are worth twice everything you own. The live band’s sound fills the entire room, setting a soft mood for a night under the sky. You feel entirely out of place, looking at everyone around you, but your eyes always return to Viktor, who’s looking at you like you’re the only thing of value in sight.

He insists that you order anything you want, of course, despite your protests. He wants to treat you, and eventually you have to accept that.

When you finish eating and the restaurant winds down to close, he asks the waitress something that you don’t quite catch while you’re listening to the last song. Viktor hands her quite a decent tip, then motions for you to follow her.

She leads you both to the back of the restaurant, passing multiple signs that say “Staff Only,” then finally gesturing to a tall flight of stairs.

“Up there,” she says. “Don’t stay too long though, I could get in big trouble if you’re caught.”

Viktor thanks her and she leaves the two of you alone.

“I...may have convinced her to let us go to the roof.” he smirks.

You glance back at the stairs, “Vik, you really don’t have to do this for me.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he assures you. “Just...go slow.”

The amount of stairs is ludicrous, but it’s not too long before you reach the top and open the door to the beautiful starry night.

You go as close to the edge as you can without falling, craning your neck to look at the miraculous view. Viktor is close behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back.

“Careful, darling,” he mumbles into your shoulder, kissing it before looking up for himself.

You stare in silence for several minutes, Viktor still holding you close.

“Can we live up here?”

He chuckles, “That might be too high a request, I’m afraid,” he nuzzles his nose into your hair. “But I assure you, someday I will give you a place with a view like this.”

You turn around, surprised by the unwavering authenticity in his features. You’ve only been together for a few months now, was he really already thinking about a future with you?

“Viktor—“

His expression quickly changes into one of panic, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so forward—“

“No, Viktor,” you wrap your arms around his neck, your faces inches apart. “I’d like that someday too.”

Sneaking back out goes smoother than you expected, and Viktor insists on walking you home as usual. There’s a warmth to your heartbeat, a welcome contrast to the chill outside. You can’t believe he went through all the trouble to arrange this night for you, genuinely wanting to surprise you with something extravagant.

When you arrive to your apartment, Viktor walks in with you when you’re met with quite the sight on the couch. Your roommate, Eli, is snuggled up with Sevika, and your snickering quickly wakes them up.

“If I had known you were having a date night too, I would’ve stayed out with Vik longer,” you laugh.

“Well we were going to go to my room, but someone fell asleep on the couch,” Eli nudges Sevika.

“Hmmph,” Sevika grunts, too groggy to properly retaliate.

“We’ll leave you be, then,” you giggle all the way back to your room, pulling Viktor behind you.

“Those two are certainly...something,” Viktor says as you close the door.

“I’m just glad they’re happy,” you shrug. “Anyway—sorry—I didn’t even ask you if you wanted to stay. You can go home if you’d like. Just maybe close your eyes walking back through the living room…”

“No, no. I’d like to stay.” he nods.

“Okay.” you sigh, slowly coming to the realization that this will be the first night you’ve spent together. It’s a bit terrifying, if you’re honest, no matter how much you love him.

You continue, avoiding his gaze, “But just so you know, I’m not ready yet to—um…”

Viktor takes your face in his hands as you drift off, “You don’t have to explain yourself, love. I would be more than happy to simply sleep next to you tonight.”

You nod, most of your anxieties subsiding.

You borrow some pajamas from your roommates that would fit him, then get changed yourself. Your bed certainly isn’t meant for two people, but you both snuggle in well enough to be comfortable. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Viktor rubs your arms and back, pressing kisses to your head. Holding you long after you’ve fallen asleep and his own arms have gone a bit numb.

He smiles at your stirs and snores, your fists gripping him closer the further you drift. He may never be able to go back to sleeping alone after experiencing this.

“Someday...I’ll give you everything you could ever want.” he whispers, closing his eyes.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane x reader

314 notes · View notes

spiritgutz · 2 months ago

Text

TWO TIME HEADCANONS

i am obsessed with this freak and need to dump my thoughts

WARNINGS: brief mentions of blood (involving two time's wings) and cults, two time being two time word count: 914

authors note: i'm extremely rusty with writing and i quite literally never use tumblr. please forgive any mistakes i've made as i try to get the hang of this 🙏

First of all, Two Time is absolutely enamored by you. The two of you are practically connected by the hip. It may seem a bit much, but they just feel so drawn to you! Why wouldn't they want to spend every waking moment by your side?

Very touchy. Their hand is usually almost always on some part of you in public, most likely on the small of your back or simply holding your hand.

They would likely refer to you as their "guardian angel."

You'll catch them staring a lot pre relationship with that signature smile on their face.

Glances turn into full-on staring, innocent touches seem to last longer, your personal space seemingly becoming shared between the two of you.

In all honesty you probably catch on fairly quick to their habits.

From across the cabin you could feel eyes trained on your frame. Most would find this unsettling, but you honestly didn't mind. You didn't move to find the source, nor acknowledge it for that matter.

However Chance, who you had just been talking to, seemed more focused on something behind you rather than conversing. You tilted your head in confusion before twisting your body around to discover the distraction. Ah, that suddenly made a lot more sense. Settled up on the second floor, Two Time gazed down at you while their arms rested on the wooden railing. Their smile seemed to grow the moment your eyes locked with theirs. Chance would address you, asking something along the lines of "Are they bothering you?" In response you would only wave your hand dismissively. Their behavior, albeit creepy at times, didn't bother you. It was almost...endearing.

As stated by the devs, Two Time is a little "insane in the membrane." But this doesn't mean that you love them any less!!

They can and will talk to you about the cult and the Spawn as a whole.

Speaking of that, Two Time would love for you to be a member of the cult someday! They won't force you by any means, but that doesn't mean they won't try and persuade you.

Sometimes you'll catch them watching you while you sleep. They'll just..stare at you. They almost act like a cat in that regard.

They sleep almost completely still minus the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

You might just end up staring at them instead. They look so peaceful when they're asleep, so serene.

I'd like to think that Two Time naturally runs colder than most people. Their hands would be like ice cubes.

PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE GIVE THAT CULTIST A HUG!!! WARM THEM UP RIGHT NOW!!!!

Two Time will melt if you touch their hair. I'm not arguing about this I am correct and anyone else is WRONG /lh

One of their favorite things is when you comb your fingers through their hair as they lay on top of you after a round is completed. It makes them feel safe

The two of you have totally fallen asleep on the cabin's couch before

If you're an active participant of the games(?), Two Time will always put your safety before theirs. A killer is trying to attack you? They’re using their body as a shield to protect you.

As much as they want to keep you safe, you're very against their methods. Your heart sinks whenever you see their wings burst from their back.

Sat on their bed, your hand gently trailed down from Two Time's shoulders, to their back, to just below where their wings had sprouted from their back the round prior. Their shirt still had remnants of dry blood, just barely blending into their black top.

You hadn't meant to get in the way. One moment you were assisting with a generator, and the next you were almost another victim of the masked killer, Jason. You surely would have perished right then and there if Two Time hadn't grabbed you by the arm, pulling you behind them as they took the blunt of the attack.

As you relived the events again in your head, a shuddered breath left the cultist sitting in front of you. Snapping out of your daze, you muttered an apology. You didn't want them to be hurt, to have put their life on the line for you.

"The Spawn would be pleased in knowing you're safe."

Two Time spoke, tilting their head back and smiling your way. It was pained.

Deep down you knew they would do anything for you, but you couldn't help but feel guilty. Even "The Spawn" seemed to encourage Two Time's efforts despite the pain that came with it. So wordlessly you shook your head.

You leaned forward, placing a soft but fleeting kiss just in-between their wings. Their posture stiffened at your actions, almost making you wonder if you had upset or even worse, hurt them. But they soon relaxed, releasing a sigh of contentment. You took notice of the way their face blossomed in color.

A wave of silence washed between you two. However as your finger traced shapes along their shoulder, your partner spoke up again, although a bit quiet.

"Perhaps they would be pleased with my safety as well.."

Their muttering, that small revelation—it brought a smile to your face. Carefully you leaned in and placed a kiss on their cheek, causing them to chuckle. They're devoted to The Spawn, but to you as well. Even if it conflicts, they'll try and make you happy <3

#forsaken x reader #forsaken roblox #forsaken two time #two time x reader

400 notes · View notes

xclowniex · 4 months ago

Text

I criticize the left so frequently as I am a leftist. I want to see leftism thrive and prosper, especially in a time where so many countries are having right wing governments.

And honestly every criticism I have can be boiled down to two root factors.

1. The left loves to watch people suffer more than seeing people succeed

2. The left will 100% harm their neighbors if it means they can be viewed as radical

To elaborate;

The LA fires are a prime recent example. The majority of people in LA are not the elite. Most are closer to homelessness than being the elite. And even if we are talking about the non elite rich, the vast majority aren't rich. I know it's hard to think that when you see a lot of celebs living in LA, but you're forgetting that there are people who are these celebs assistants, people who work on sets. Artists and animators. People who do so much behind the scenes who aren't rich. You also have all the supporting infrastructure. People who work at all the stores, teachers, builders and other trades folk building the infrastructures and keeping people's cars running. Nurses and health care workers.

LA isn't a city full of just rich folk with everyone else spawning in for their shifts and being teleported back to the void when they're done for the day. And these people aren't all just chucked into the "poor" parts of LA. They live all throughout. Some people who live in the rich homes either bought the house themselves decades ago and can't afford it in today's economy. Some their grandparents had money but they don't and the house was passed down to them. Others are forced to live in these areas as that's where the work is and barely scrape by or even have to choose between seeing the doctor and eating.

And the fires are spreading. There is a real possibility that they might not stay in these rich neighborhoods. What happens when they spread? Will the "let is burn" sentiment still exist?. And that's not even touching on the health effects. Smoke travels. It is not safe to breathe in. Its not rare for firefighters to get cancer after fighting massive wildfires. Imagine what it's doing even short-term to people in higher class, middle class and lower class neighborhoods where the smoke has traveled to.

Yet so many on the left have chosen to point and laugh because some of those affected are wealthy. People are so focused on the suffering of those they dislike, that they don't give a shit about those they are neutral towards or like being affected. Not that it should matter. Adam Sandler isn't the one keeping your wages low. Mandy Moore isn't the one causing the cost of living crisis.

And the reaction from the left since Oct 7th is prime example for the second point.

You would rather harm jews to get your radical short lived relief for palestinians than work with jews to create a long term solution and relief for palestinians.

Putting jews down to uplift Palestinians isn't being pro Palestine, it's called being antisemitic. There should be Jewish palestinian solidarity, that is the key to peace. But when goyim actively harm jews for their radikewl revolution moment, it prevents that from happening.

The left is so individualistic currently. You would eat your neighbor if it benefited you. This is not what leftist values are about. It's amount community, getting rid of bigotry, supporting each other.

#antisemitism #jumblr #jewblr #israel #palestine #leftist antisemitism #leftism #la fires #palisades fire #politics

398 notes · View notes

httpsryu · 10 months ago

Text

the cc; campus crush : 2

pairing: kim minjeong x fem! reader

summary: kim minjeong feels her heart rush at the sight of the cold-hearted rich girl

category: enemies-to-lovers(in minjeong's head)

genre: this part is ANGSTY

warnings: y/n is kind of mean (ITS IN HER BLOOD)

a/n: i had no clue that cc would have this much support! thank you so much guys <3

The second the professor ended the lecture, students bombards the door. Jimin turns back to her shoulder to check up on Minjeong and see if she's going to hang with her and the others. However, seeing you still next to her gives her other ideas.

Her phone lets out a small buzz, having her look at it and she smiles while typing back an 'alright, have fun! i'll inform the others'.

"Think Minjeong is going to be with someone else today." Jimin informs Aeri and Yizhou while closing up her notebooks and putting them in her extremely large and heavy black backpack.

Aeri swears that backpack can be used as a dumbbell workout at this rate.

Both Aeri and Yizhou nods, putting two-and-two together.

"I admit, I'm surprised that Minjeong is managing this far with Hong Y/N." The Japanese amusedly turns back to look at her friend and the cold-faced rich girl. "I kind of thought they would just sit next to each other and that would be it."

The Chinese besides her throws her head back in a fit of laughter. "Come on! Give some hope in our Jeongie."

On the other hand, Minjeong patiently waits for you as you finish typing out the rest of the lecture's notes. However, she can see the slight confusion resting upon your very attractive face at some of the points given in today's lecture.

She assumes it's probably because you're not here for every class so confusion would make sense.

"Hey..um..if you always need help with anything, feel free to ask me. I can always help assist you." The short-haired offers, a bit shy, of course.

This reaction of the intriguing female sparks sort of a frenzy in you. Of course; you cannot pinpoint what it is.

"I don't need your help." A blunt yet short response comes from you.

You aren't sure if what you said was offensive, as you've always are used to that tone while growing up. However, to Minjeong, it seems a bit too honest. But then again, she understands it. You are a cold person like everyone else said. She can stand it.

"Ah." She can only respond, nodding as she doesn't want to push any boundaries on you.

With a slam from closing your laptop, you shove the device into your backpack. With no care if it breaks or not because less work for you to do. You look up after zipping up the bag.

"You should close that more gently." Minjeong suggests, seeing you raise your eyebrow at her suggestion. "Just because your hand can get hurt."

If anyone can see the way your eyes soften for a glimpse second, it would be the heavens from above.

"It's whatever." You reply, getting out of your seat.

The short-haired doesn't move, still frozen at where she is sitting. Unsure of whether you'd still want to grab coffee with her or not. It seemed like she pushed your buttons, judging from how you respond.

"Are we getting coffee or not?" You ask, sounding a little bit impatient as you couldn't help but to swing your bag in a sassy manner as you also don't forget to fix your hair with a swing of a finger.

Minjeong's eyes widens, immediately getting out of where she was sitting and rushing over to your side. "Yeah we are."

"She's like a puppy. A bit cute." You can't help but to mumble under your breath, walking ahead of her, a smile kind of crept to your mouth as you hear her following swiftly behind you.

Minjeong shoots her friends a small smile before disappearing out the classroom to catch up with you.

"You know what?" Yizhou stands up, ready for a snack break before her 12 PM class starts. "I kind of ship it."

Aeri gets what Yizhou means. "Honestly, it's like a cute love-smitten nerd and her bossy mean girlfriend."

Both Minjeong and Y/N kind of clicks well, looking good to the eyes too.

"Can we stop by the vending machines so I can get some more energy drinks?" Jimin asks, pushing her glasses up on the nose bridge.

The Japanese and Chinese look at each other, sighing before shaking their heads NO.

"PLEASE!"

"NO!" Both girls say in unison, getting up from their seat.

"Hey! Where are you guys going? Wait for me!" Jimin pushes up her glasses on her nose bridge once again before hastily putting the rest of her supplies in her very heavy backpack in a frantic.

Minjeong cannot believe she is sitting right in front of THE Hong Y/N. How does one get lucky with their campus crush? Certainly Minjeong must've been a hero in her past life because what do you mean Y/N is here having coffee with her?

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you divert your eyes from the coffee cup in your hands to the short-haired female.

Minjeong flashes her eyes to somewhere else, not wanting you to catch her staring, enamored by you.

You hate to admit it but Minjeong is pretty cute.

Your phone rings, having you span your attention somewhere else as you grab it from your bag. With a sigh, you decline the call before stuffing it in back into your bag.

"If you have places to be, we can end the day here."

Furrowing your brows at the other sitting across from you, you shake your head. You don't want to seem rude, especially after someone treated you out. "No. It's fine."

"I understand that you're a busy person." Minjeong responds back, reaching over to take a sip of the sweet-looking frappe (you try your best to not cringe at how sweet it is).

"Minjeong-shi?" You call her name and the church bells started ringing in the other girl's head at the way you said her name. "I don't leave my appointments hanging."

Oh.

Appointments.

That's all Minjeong would ever be to you.

While she's over here thinking it was a chance to know one another, you see her as an appointment. A one-time thing. Minjeong knew it was too good to be true. Why would someone like you ever be into someone like her?

You seem to take notice of the sudden dejection of the other sitting across from you. However, you did not want to ask her if everything is alright. After all, you don't have the time to do anything yet alone, try to get to know someone else. After four years of university, you'll never see anyone from campus again.

There's no point in getting to know someone.

Just even getting coffee with this girl is a lot of time taken from you.

"I think it's best if we cut it short." You look down at the watch on your wrist, already dreading at the fact that you need to be at the department. You can already hear the scolding from both your father and sister.

Time is a limitation to you, Minjeong assumes.

"Oh. Yeah, I understand!" The red haired is about to stand up from her seat to greet you out but you stop her from doing so.

"No need for that." Disliking the idea of someone walking you out, especially if it's someone that does not work for the family. You pick up your handbag, giving the other a small half-smile. "I enjoyed this."

Minjeong can only smile back in response, unsure of what else to say. It's quite evident that you don't want to waste your time with someone like her. She takes the hint, she gets it.

She feels foolish, honestly.

"Well then, I am off now." You turn, ready to walk away with your signature Valentino heels, that make quite a presence to themselves. However, you turn back around to lock eye contact with the puppy-eyed girl. "See you around."

"Yeah. See you.." The puppy-eyed girl responds quietly to your farewell.

A sad sigh escapes from her, her shoulders falling beside her as she slumps herself in the chair. Wondering why someone as pretty as you have to be such a busy person.

Was there a need to call her your appointment though?

It's quite clear that Minjeong wants to know you better, hell, you probably already knew.

And yet; you called her an appointment.

Everyone's right.

You are a cold-hearted soul.

But why does Minjeong still like the idea of you and her? Even though it's clear you're not interested in her the same way she is in you. Why does Minjeong still want to keep trying?

Tip-toeing between the many different stores in the department, you check a quick scan-looking around for any sights of a Hong Haein. You let out a sigh of relief before running fast to another store across from you.

"Why are you late?"

Startled at the sudden voice, your heart starts wanting to leap out your chest at the voice of your older sister.

"Hi..." You force a smile, turning around to be met with Haein, her brows furrowed from frustration, pout evident on her lips and her arms are crossed as she repeatedly taps her right foot as she waits for your reasoning. "I just had an appointment."

Haein lowers her gaze, meeting with your height. "You missed the meeting for an appointment?"

"Yeah...?"

The older stares straight on, not caring if it made you feel small nor vulnerable. "An appointment isn't going to be there in the future like this department store is."

"Yes, I know that." You're tired of hearing anything to do with the department and the business that comes from it.

Haein clenches her jaw, not wanting to lose her patience in front of the customers. "If you knew that, why did you miss the meeting? Do you not care about your future?"

"I do care..." Your voice suddenly becoming quiet, blinking fast while looking away from your sister's gaze to not let the tears fall.

The older Hong can only let out a sigh. "Look, someday, I'll stop being the CEO of this department store and I want you to take my place. How can I trust you for this position when you don't even show up to these important meetings we have?"

"I'll do better."

"You always say that to get out of me nagging you." Haein tsks, her patience getting less with you. "How is Soocheol more reliable than you?"

Digging your nails into the palm of your hands from withstanding the awful and horrible words you were about to say to your sister, you can only nod.

"There was no point to even show up." Your sister looks down at her watch, staring at the time which means it was pointless to even try to talk sense into you. "Just go home or wherever you came from."

Before you could respond, the older puts up her hand to answer a phone call. You can only look away in frustration at the way she doesn't care about your feelings. Why would she try to understand?

She's the most successful out of the three of you.

Of course, she doesn't understand.

She loves being in this business, that's how much she loves the company.

Why couldn't it be the same for you?

"Grandfather wants to see us tonight for a family meeting tonight." Haein puts her phone away, looking at you with a stern look but her eyes softened for a quick glimpse at how tired you looked. "Y/N, you know I love you more than Soocheol. I don't want to nag you, but it's my job to make sure you'll do well in this business. Do you understand?"

Staring down at your heels, you can only sigh.

"Aren't you going to answer me?"

"Alright."

With a final nod and a small tight lipped smile, Haein turns around and walks away on her heels.

Knowing that you're not actually allowed to head back home until everyone else leaves, you can only gather yourself together before standing up with your back straight and face held high. Letting out another deep breath before composing yourself to continue the act you've perfected for years, you walk off towards the elevators.

Making sure each step of your heels are seen with confidence, like how your family wanted to be known as. Staring straight on, ignoring the passer-by's attention that are naturally drawn to you.

You see your secretary waiting for you at the elevators ready to give you your assigned orders given to you by both your father and sister.

"Hi Secretary Park." You open out your hand, waiting for the iPad to be given.

The older lady in front bows. "Good evening, Miss Hong." Handing you the iPad which shows the stocks, shares and information regarding of each store in the department. "The CEO wants you to write an analytical summary of each store regarding their sales."

And how in the world do you do that?

"Without Director Baek's assistance." Your secretary says with worry.

Hong Haein is doing this on purpose! What the hell?

"Got it." You look down at the screen in your hands, wanting to just throw and break the device displaying the graphs in front of your face. "Inform her that I'll try to get that at the end of next week."

Noticing the uncomfortable yet concerned expression on Secretary Park's face, you tilt your head. "What?"

"She wants this all done by tomorrow."

Fucking hell.

"Oh. Ok."

Minjeong types on her laptop in the dimly-lit library on campus, of course, with her best friends by her side because who needs girls when she has three awesome people.

But, in spite of that, the short-haired ejects a small upset sigh to where she can't even focus on her assignments. This, of course earned her three friends to turn to her, pitying the other.

"There's other of plenty pretty women on this campus, you know?" Aeri softly says, tapping her pen on her notebook as she tries to think of someone's name. "What about Ryujin?"

Minjeong stops typing, looking up from the screen and at the Japanese. "No, she's too much of a flirt and besides, her and I would clash in the worst way possible."

"Plus she's in a situation-ship with Yeji..." Yizhou mumbles, trying not to let Jimin hear.

The oldest of the four picks her head up from the medical book she's buried in. "You don't have to walk on eggshells around me when you talk about Yeji, alright? She wasn't out the closet during that time and I completely gotten over it."

The short-haired can only stare at her best friend, never forgetting the night when Jimin, the most composed and mature of the group lost her chill that night when Yeji and her ended things. Perhaps, it could be the case for you. You probably weren't into women.

Minjeong glances over at Aeri, wondering when the Japanese would just confess to Jimin already.

"Hmm..what about Yunjin?" Aeri suggests the pretty red-haired music major.

Minjeong shakes her head in agony. "I'll never find someone like Y/N."

"Obviously. She's a rich woman whose family earned their way up. She knows how to hold herself well." Yizhou points out the obvious, not surprised at all for Minjeong feeling the way she feels.

Jimin sighs, looking up from the book she's burying her face into. "Minjeong, I'm saying this to you as your best friend. It's okay to have an ideal type, but it's also alright to accept potential candidates too. Why do you seem to be interested in Hong Y/N so much?"

"I-I don't know where I should start. For starters, she's a very pretty girl. One of the most pretty girls, if not-the prettiest girl I've ever laid my eyes on. She somehow, despite being busy with her family, she's always balancing work-school life. Like yeah, she's kind of mean but I kind of like that about her. I don't mind her being mean to me at all."

"Oh." Jimin can only react with. "You're in pretty deep."

Minjeong can only sigh, putting her head into her hands with frustration. "She made it clear that she isn't interested in anything but why do I want to keep trying?"

"Good luck." Aeri snorts, dismissively going back to studying.

The puppy-like female brings her head back up at Aeri's dismissive attitude leaving Yizhou laughing. This results in Minjeong flicking a pencil at the Chinese's teasing.

"OW!"

Minjeong can only shrug. "You all think its funny that I'm pining over someone who wants nothing to do with me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe."

"Let's have some faith in our Minjeong, come on."

Minjeong wants to bury herself in a hole for even being like this over a girl. But it's not just any girl...ITS you.

"Guys, I think I'm going to keep trying." Minjeong announces with full determination in her eyes.

Jimin, Aeri and Yizhou can only sigh in response.

prev. part

august 2, 2024; publishing date

hey...how is everyone doing...?

taglist: OPEN

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #httpsryu #aespa x reader #kim minjeong x reader #minjeong x reader #winter x reader #aespa x fem reader

486 notes · View notes